#what a fun little pick me up after a rough couple months

[thatrandomblogsays]

It’s a fun video, check her out @what-is-my-aesthetic

My favorite part was her immediately checking out CSPAN footage after showing my meme and…

Mood girlie, mood…

(if you had kept watching you would’ve seen the senators almost break into a brawl…)

[6ix9inewiturmom]

Secretly crushing- Matt and Chris Sturniolo

Summary: You and chris are dating, matt has secretly liked you, you secretly like matt, and chris asks you about it, you try your best to deny it, but chris can see right through you and lets you have one little night with matt ;)

Warnings: Angst, Smut, oral (fem receiving), candaulesism (watching people have sex in front of you: i think this is the correct term) p in v, unprotected sex, degrading, threesome ish?, picture taking, praising, cream pie, Dom!matt!Dom!chris!Sub!reader, use of Y/N, squirting, multiple orgasms, begging, “sir” kink, picture taking, OVERALL FILTHY AS FUCK

A/N: I HAD SM FUN WRITING THIS!! this is my first attempt at writing something like this!! be kind pls

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The triplets and I have been friends since about 8th grade, I met Matt in science class, then met the other two, and became inseparable. were all 20 now, living in LA together. about a year ago Chris and I started dating. It has been absolutely amazing, we go out once a week on a date night, and he always puts me first, and the sex? oh, that's heavenly. I've always been closer to Matt rather than Chris, but I can't deny that I've always had a thing for Matt and Chris, when the boys and I hit high school, I could never pick between the two of them. all of my friends would always tell me 'If you had to pick between Matt and Chris who would you pick?' I could never answer that because deep down, I wanted them both, but I was happily with Chris.

Today the Triplets invited me to do a blind deaf and mute challenge for their channel, except because there was 4 of us one of us would have to be blind and deaf.

“MATT I WANNA BE BLIND” chris exclaimed

“Okay to solve this issue, i’ll be blind and deaf, chris can be blind, matt you can be mute, and nick can be deaf, is that okay?” i say standing in the middle of matt and chris as they argue about who’s who.

“i mean i have no issue being any of them” nick throws his hands up in defense.

“alright that works for me” chris shrugs his shoulders and smiles at me.

the fans knew about mine and chris’ relationship because chris and i was accidentally spotted on nicks live stream cuddling and kissing on the couch while he was on instagram doing a Space Camp promo, it was a rough adjustment, i was getting a lot of hate, but after a couple months people just kind of accepted it.

“So since we all got our parts we’re gonna get ready to bake cupcakes” nick explained to the camera.

i grabbed my Airpods Max’s and a bandana.

“i’m suprised you didn’t grab that cute silk blindfold you’ve made me keep in my underwear drawer” chris says behind me helping me put the bandana over my eyes.

“CHRISTOPHER” i use my hand and slap his arm.

i put my airpods on and start blasting my music. nick and i are jumping around singing the same song as our spotify’s we’re linked so we could listen together.

“NEVER HAD A BITCH LIKE ME IN YA LIFE” nick and i said in unison

“OKAY IS EVERYONE READY” i say screaming as i can’t hear or see shit hoping someone can guide me in the right direction of what the hell to do.

“she obviously can’t hear how loud she is” chris says in attempt to look at the camera but looking in the complete opposite direction of the camera.

i feel a pair of hands touch my shoulders and guide me through the kitchen because apparently i was standing out of frame. i assumed it was Chris, though chris never has this firm of a grip on my shoulders.

“THANK YOU BABY” i scream looking upwards trying to thank chris for helping me.

“what’d i do” chris looks around in confusion

“OH MY GOD NICK I LOVE THIS FUCKING SONGGGGG” i lean over and start shaking my ass thinking it’s chris “THROW SOME MO” not realizing it’s matt, he gets wide eyed, and his cheeks brighten up with a light shade of pink, but in his favor you can’t see it because his bandana is covering his cheeks. i feel someone grab and yank me away

“Y/N WATCH WHERE YOUR SHAKING YOUR ASS” nick screams holding my shoulders

“WHAT” i scream back

“YES Y/N” nick yells back at me, not being able to hear what i said

“OKAY CHRIS GRAB THE EGGS” Nick screams across the kitchen and i accidentally walk out of frame again, and the second i walk out of frame i feel the same grip on my waist this time guiding me back into frame. “IM SORRY CHRIS” i scream up at who i think is chris.

“MATT WHY DOES Y/N KEEP YELLING STUFF AT ME” chris says trying to ask matt for help “and where are they eggs” he walks around in practical circles

matt rolls his eyes and he walks to the refrigerator and grabs the carton of eggs for Chris and hands them to him.

“OKAY CHRIS OPEN THE EGGS AND CRACK THEM” nick tells right in chris’ ear

“HEY JACKASS I CAN HEAR YOU, YOU DONT GOT TO START YELLING WITH YA MOUTH” chris yells towards nick.

matt pushes chris out of the way and starts trying to tell nick to be quiet because of how close their neighbors are, me being blind and deaf i’m just chilling and dancing around to the songs that are playing.

“I WANNA HELP” i try to find my way to the kitchen island by holding my hands out infront of me making my way over to where the ingredients are.

matt is pointing at me and doing mixing motions with his hands trying to get nick to tell chris that i wanna help.

“WHAT ABOUT Y/N MATT” nick frustratingly yells. “OH OH CHRIS YOUR GIRLFRIEND WANTS TO HELP” he continues

“here Y/N” chris attempts to hand me the whisk and accidentally hands me the whisk with the dirty side facing me, i grab the whisk from the top.

“EW YOU HANDED ME THIS SHIT WITH THE EGG ALL OVER IT” i yell.

“OKAY Y/N I LOVE YOU BUT SHUT THE FUCK UP” chris yells back at me.

i grab the whisk and start mixing the eggs together at the best of my blind ability’s.

“okay matt’s telling at me to lower my tone so chris try to get Y/N to put a 1/2 cup of oil in the pan” nicks voice softens.

i drop the whisk in the bowl “I GIVE UP THIS SHIT IS NASTY” in my attempt to walk to the paper towels i walk over and almost hit the fridge but matt grabs my hips and leads me to the paper towel and hands me one. but again, being blind and deaf i had no earthly sense of who it was grabbing my hips.

“CHRIS STOP STOP” nick slapping chris’ arm to get him to stop pouring the oil into the bowl.

“OKAY NOW CUT OR RIP THE BAG OPEN AND POUR THE BAG INTO THE BOWL” nick screams again in Chris’ ear

“YOU THINK YOU THE SHIT?” i start yelling “YOU NOT EVEN THE FART” i continue singing along to the ice spice song blasting in my headphones, obviously in my own world, i start dancing around in the kitchen

“YES Y/N YOURE EATING THIS SHIT UP” nick exclaimed hyping me up “OH SHIT CHRIS STOP MIXING SO HARD WAIT LET Y/N DO IT” nick yells again grabbing the whisk and walking towards me and leading me to the bowl. i place the whisk into the bowl carefully and start mixing how i normally would and i feel matt (assuming its nick this time) grab my hand and slow my movements down.

“OKAY ITS MIXED UP NOW” nick once again yelling “NOW MATT IS GONNA POUR IT BECAUSE I DONT TRUST YOU GUYS TO POUR IT IN THE CUPCAKE SHEET” yelling in chris’ ear he throws his hands in the air.

“matt swear im gonna kill em, keeps yelling in my ear like a fucking animal” chris looks around at this point just talking to himself.

“OKAY WERE GONNA TAKE OUR STUFF OFF AND PUT THESE IN THE OVEN AND WELL BE BACK” nick yells before taking off his headphones, and tapping me letting me know to take off my headphones and bandana.

“nick you gotta stop yelling, you too Y/N” looking at me smiling

“i can’t hear or see, i was in my own world half the time” i say smiling back at him

“okay it says they gotta cook for 25 minutes” matt says reading the box to nick.

as the cupcakes are cooking we’re all in the kitchen cleaning it up from the mess we all made laughing at shit we did without realizing it, talking about how bad these cupcakes could turn out.

Chris pulls the cupcakes out of the oven and places them on the stove and we’re all looking at them admitting they look a little weird but still edible.

“okay we didn’t do HORRIBLE” chris admitted to the camera.

“i mean we definitely could have absolutely fucked these up so badly” i say laughing softly.

“WELL anyways that’s it for today’s wednesdays video! i hope you guys enjoyed it and we’ll see you guys on friday!” nick says before walking over and clicking the red button and ended the recording.

“so who’s editing, cause i don’t feel like it” nick comes back around to the kitchen island.

“yeah no i’m good, last time i edited i saw clips on tiktok over the poor editing i did” matt laughed

“i will” chris groans and walks to the camera grabs the SD card

“come on Y/N, i can go edit this and you can watch Gossip girl for the 50th time” chris smiled gabbing my hand and leading me to his bedroom.

“Y/N YOURE SO REAL FOR REWATCHING THAT” nick yells from downstairs causing me to giggle softly.

“okay ma, just lay down i got the rest” chris says in a soft loving tone with a smile on his face

as i lay down i turn on the tv to gossip girl and just lay down in the comfort of Chris’ room as he sits and gets on the laptop on his desk and begins to rewatch and edit the video with the occasional laughter.

“Y/N what the fuck is this” chris’ voice goes cold almost.

i get up off the bed looking a little confused “what are you talking about baby?”

he rewinds the video a little to see me grinding up on matt singing along to throw some mo “this isnt even the first either, you and matt flirted the WHOLE video, we can’t even fucking post this now, because of your dumbass” his voice raises

“chris, you do realize i couldn’t see or fucking hear right?” i turn to look at him who’s once loving eyes now filled with rage.

“yeah but don’t you think you should have KNOWN my touch?” he raised his voice. “in matter of fact” he starts and fast forwards the video “look at his hands, look at how they hold your waist, if you think that’s it hold on there’s more” he sarcastically says. “HERE, when you’re whisking his hands are GRIPPING on yours and you don’t even stop him” he stand off his gaming chair looking down at me.

“Chris i don’t know what you’re so pissed off for, i do understand we can’t post this now, but you’re mad because i couldn’t see or hear ANYTHING? me and matt are JUST friends chris” i say looking up in his eyes. deep down i knew i was lying, ive always loved matt more then a friend but watching these videos knowing it was matt now? i can’t help but feel a little turned on, i know it was wrong of me but damn.

“Y/N don’t lie, i see the way you look at matt sometimes, i’ve seen it since we were younger, but i thought maybe i had a chance, you can’t lie to me about how you feel about him” his voice stays in a deeper tone almost a hurt tone, but knowing chris he’s not gonna get all mushy with me.

“Chris what the hell are you even talking about?” i run my fingers through my hair.

“okay since you’re playing stupid, leave. i don’t care where the hell you go, just go away from me” his voice now in anger pointing at the door.

i press my lips together and nod before grabbing my belongings from his nightstand and slamming his door and walking downstairs.

“WOAH Y/N where are you going and why did you just slam Chris’ door?” nick questions.

i let out a sigh “he thought when matt was guiding me through the kitchen being BLIND AND DEAF, was me and him flirting, and when i accidentally starting throwing it back on him, BUT-“ i was cut off by nick

“OKAY FOR ONE, it wasn’t flirting, and for two, you didn’t mean it, you were blind and deaf, why is he so mad, i mean we can just cut those parts out, it’s not totally ruined” nick says in an attempt to justify my actions, matt was so deeply invested in his phone i doubt he even heard the conversation.

“well whatever, i’m out of here, i love you guys!” i say walking out of the front door carefully shutting it and making my way to the car.

i back out of the driveway and turn my music on to distract me of my thoughts but my mind clouds with thoughts of the way matt’s hands felt on my body, the way he grabbed my waist, the way i accidentally threw it back on matt. why was i thinking like that? my thighs subconsciously clenched together. god i knew it was wrong. but here i am, getting turned on over a man who is my best friend and my boyfriend’s brother. but he had this glow to him, it was addictive.

𝜗𝜚 The next day 𝜗𝜚

i didn’t really sleep much last night, i was anxious, horny, mad, all of the feelings in one. i lay in bed watching movies when my Phone pings, i turn it over to see a message from chris.

Owen 💍

Come over tonight, and wear something easy to take off.

is he for real? make up sex isn’t gonna fix anything.

Y/N

Chris? really? make up sex?

Owen 💍

Nah nah just trust me ma, you’re gonna love it.

Y/N

Okay okay i’ll see you at 6

what did he have planned?? but alas i accepted, i sighed and went to the bathroom and turned on my shower to wash my hair, and shave… for whatever reason. chris didn’t care about what i looked like but something definitely told me that i should shave.

6 o clock rolled around faster then i knew it. i did my makeup, curled my hair and threw on a tight, short, skirt and a white crop top with a matching black lacy lingerie set underneath it all.

i grab my purse and phone and drive over to chris’ shared house with his brothers. as soon as i get there i use my spare key and open the locked door, to find the living room empty, assuming they’re all in their separate rooms. i slowly make my way to chris’ room and knock a couple times.

“Chris.. it’s me” i softly say into the door.

“come in” he yells softly from the other side of the door.

i walk into the room and find matt and chris sitting on his bed looking at chris’ phone, i’m a little confused but i thought he wanted to have a sit down talk with me and matt about stuff considering how last night went.

“so Y/N” chris stands up making his way towards me “i want to first start off by saying you look amazing” he comes closer to me talking in almost a whisper while brushing his fingers tips on my cheek making me shiver.

i lean my head down “thank you” i softly smile.

“no talking” his voice gets sturn “im gonna be doing all the talking and you’re gonna listen like the good girl i know you can be” his eyes fill with lust.

i nod “yes sir” i bite my lip softly

“you’re such a good girl for me” he smiles.

“now since you want to be a little slut and try to flaunt around my brother… you’re gonna be treated like a slut and let Matt fuck you like one” he smirks.

“w-what..?” my eyes widen.

“you heard me. i’m gonna watch matt fuck you like the little whore you are” he spits holding my jaw between his thumb and pointer finger.

“understand?” he says gazing down at me.

“y-yes sir” i nod nervously.

“such a good listener for me yeah?” he smiles placing a soft kiss on my lips.

“now strip and show matt what kind of whore you are” he says and walking to his gaming chair sitting down manspreading.

i walk over towards matt who’s sitting on the edge of the bed, i smiling devilishly pulling the shirt over my head and throwing it on the floor and pulling my skirt down leaving me exposed in nothing but my lingerie set.

“you can touch her, no need to be shy now matt” chris spits adjusting himself in the chair.

matt grabs my hips pulling me closer to him harshly and admiring my figure before him, running his fingers up and down my waist slightly running his fingers over my clothed nipples which hardened over his touch.

“you’re so fucking sexy” matt says in a husk whisper.

“t-thank you” i smile at matt.

“nu uh stop talking. you’re only gonna speak when i ask a question, got it?” matt’s eyes darken with lust.

“y-yes sir?” i questioned him not knowing if that’s what i say, i know chris likes it but considering i don’t know how matt is, im nervous.

“you treat him how you treat me Y/N” chris speaks from a couple feet away admiring how i react under matt’s touch.

i nod softly returning my eyes back to matt still gazing at my figure under his fingers. he wraps his arms around my back to unclip my bra letting it fall off my shoulders, his eyes widen slightly at my bare breast as his lower lip goes between his teeth.

his lips attached to my breast taking my hard nipplr between his teeth sucking harshly making my head go back and a soft whimper escape my lips as he massages one breast and his lips around the other occasionally kissing my nipple and switching breast.

chris’ eyes never leave me watching me come undone from his brothers touch. “you’re such a whore Y/N” chris speaks under his breath.

matt detached his lips from my breasts and uses his hands to rip my underwear off my legs and picking me up and throwing me on the bed letting a whimper fall from my lips at his harshness. he adjusts himself between my legs and comes up to face me and places a harsh hungry kiss on my lips swiping his tongue over my bottom lip almost begging for entry. as soon as my mouth open slightly he uses his tongue to explore my mouth fighting my own tongue for dominance he obviously won. his hand creeps down to rub his fingers through my wet folds of my pussy and letting a soft groan to escape from his mouth at my own wetness.

“so fucking wet for me yeah?” he says smirking into my lips.

he stands up using his hands to grab my ankles yanking me to the edge of the bed and immediately attacking my pussy with his mouth leaving open mouthed kissed on my clit.

“M-Matt, so fuc-fucking good” i moan out struggling to get a full sentence out of my mouth.

chris chuckles from across the room in a mocking manner. matt continues to flick his tongue over my clit now using his middle finger to enter my aching hole and curling it upward leaving me a moaning mess with just his mouth and fingers. he whines into my pussy “you have the sweetest fucking pussy”

i moan in response as he adds his ring finger in me as his cold rings hit the entry of my hole over and over again. my hands goes down to run his fingers through his hair.

“did he say you could touch him Y/N?” chris stands up from his seat walking to the other side of the bed and grabbing my wrist to pin them over my head.

i violently shake my head as my legs begin shaking and my cervixs contracts around matt’s fingers.

“Y/N i asked you a question” he says sternly looking at me. “did he say you could touch him?” he spits looking down at my fucked out face.

“N-no s-sir” i stutter out in a whimper. “cl-close” i scream out.

“beg” matt mumbles against me.

“i-i can’t” my eyes roll back into my head with moans spilling out of me.

“beg him Y/N, or you’re not cumming the rest of the night, and believe me, you’re in for a LONG night” chris says smirking still holding my wrists pent above my head.

“p-please s-sir, i’m so, so close” i whimper out.

“beg harder” matt’s head lifts up looking down at me while his fingers plunge into my at a ungodly speed curling them upwards hitting my spot sending me over the edge.

“please” i repeat a couple times “i-ill be- good” my back arches off the bed.

“cum” matt harshly says, which is all it took to send me into a euphoric orgasm as my cum drips out of me and onto his fingers.

chris let’s go of my wrists smiling down at me with nothing but lust in his eyes as my eyes trail from his eyes down to matt who’s undressing himself pulling his sweatpants and underwear down in one swift motion letting his hard needy cock to spring up and hit his stomach, he was pretty close to chris’ size but matt had so much more girth to his.

“you like what you see?” matt taunts.

i nod with a smile on my lips.

“get on all fours” matt’s once smile turns into a smirk looking up at chris who’s also smirking over at matt.

i flip over with my ass flaunting in the air and using my elbows for support and speeding my thighs and legs apart slightly for matt.

matt rummaged through chris’ bedside table for a condom but was quickly stopped by chris.

“no since she wants to act like a whore, you can fuck her like one and fuck her raw” matt smirks over at Chris’ comment and walks towards the edge of the bed and using his cock and slapping my pussy harshly with it letting a loud whine from me.

“someone’s sensitive” matt chuckles taunting me as his slides his tip up and down my soaping wet folds.

he slides just the tip in at first before inching his way in allowing me to adjust to his size as he bottoms out letting a groan escape from his lips and a screech from my lips come out.

“fuck she’s so tight” he groans and mumbles out.

chris smirks walking backwards till his back hits the wall crossing his arms watching matt fuck himself into me.

he starts thrusting in and out pulling out except for the tip and thrusting hard bottoming out each time before thrusting faster and harder.

“Matt” i moan out dragging out the ‘t’ of his name.

his left hand grabs my wrist wrist cuffing them behind my back using his right hand to push my head into the mattress containing his pace in and out of me.

“C-close” i muffle out in the sheets

“no, you’re gonna hold it” matt sternly replied.

“p-please” tears of pleasure form in my eyes as i whimper and scream.

“hold it” he forces my head deeper in the mattress

“c-ca-“ i was cut off by my orgasm gushing out of me squirting all over his cock and thighs leaving a puddle beneath me.

“that was incredibly hot Y/N but, you’re in deep shit now” matt pulls out flipping me back over my back staring down at my glistening red sensitive pussy.

chris shoots matt a smirk and walks over to his dresser ruffles through it pulling out my pink vibrator i use on occasion with chris or when chris is on tour, and throwing it to matt.

matt immediately turns it on the highest setting and placing it on my sensitive clit and pushes himself in me giving me no time to adjust.

matt forces my knees to my chest spreading them open to allow room for the vibrator on me, thrusting heavily in me kissing my cervix with his tip.

i’m a moaning mess beneath him as chris comes around placing his hands on either side of my head.

“is it too much princess?” he taunts smirking.

i nod vigorously as a response as screams and moans escape from me while matt continues to pound himself into my grunting with each thrust.

“this is what happens when you don’t listen Y/N” matt growls down at me as i can feel another orgasm approaching in my core as i tighten around matt again. chris stands up a little and pulls his phone out and opens his camera to get a picture of my fucked out expressions with my mascara pouring down my cheeks and lipstick stains down my chin as he smiles at his phone.

“are you close?” matt removed his hand from my knee still holding the vibrator against my clit, he used his hand to hold my throat softly squeezing my neck on the sides making me see more then just stars now.

“NO” i scream out but my trembling legs gave me away as my cervix spasms around his cock thrusting in me.

“are you close” his grip on my throat tightens as he moves the vibrator around my clit making my eyes roll back and my back arching off the bed.

“NO” i scream out again with more tears falling from my eyes from the overstimulation and pleasure.

“i don’t believe you” he spits smirking at me.

“Fu-fuck” my voice shakes and my throat becomes dry “C-CLOSE” i horsily scream out.

“i know you are baby, come on, cum on my cock” matt’s voice becomes softer as my legs shake and i contract around his cock squirting once again on his torso, cock, and the bed.

his thrusts become sloppier throwing the vibrator on the bed somewhere else as he thrusts in me a couple more times before coating my pink walls white with his cum as he pulls out slowly watching his cum come out of my hole smiling at me.

“are you okay” Chris and matt said in unison smiling at me and back at eachother.

“y-yes” i said out of breath.

chris and matt chuckles.

“i’ll change the sheets” matt says helping me off the bed placing me down on the floor making sure i don’t fall over.

“i’ll go run her a shower real quick” chris comes over towards me picking me up bridal style and carrying me to the shower.

“i-im sorry i never told you ab-“ i start.

“don’t worry about it ma i promise, me and matt are fine, me and you are even better i promise you that” he says kissing my lips softly before putting me in the shower and helping me shower.

“i love you” i say smiling at him as he massages my scalp.

“i love you most” he smiles back at me rinsing my hair out.

we finish showering after putting on some of chris’ clothes on me then making our way back to chris’ room as matt finishes changing the sheets smiling at me.

“i can’t believe you got her to squirt before me” chris chuckles breaking the silence.

“YOUVE NEVER GOTTEN HER TO DO THAT?” matt’s eyes widen as a smile peaks from his lips.

“nope” me and chris said together.

we all laugh softly “wait where’s nick? i really don’t want to explain this to him…” my voice trails off.

“well after chris came to me with a proposal about all this we made him go to a friends house for the night, and told him that i was also going to a friends house so he wouldn’t get suspicious” matt says kind of laughing at himself.

“well then can we all watch a movie together?” i smile at both chris and matt

“of course we can” chris chimed in making his way to the bed and placing me in the middle of the bed as matt is on one side and chris on the other turning on the TV putting on Gossip girl for me.

“i never understood the plot of this fucking show” matt says looking over at chris then back at me who already fell asleep. “and she’s out” matt says smiling

“this is typical Y/N” chris says laughing “i just roll with it” he adds turning back to the TV, and slowly both of them fell asleep with me in between both of them peacefully.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N pt 2: SO I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY WITH THIS I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS AND ENJOYED IT AS MUCH AS I DID WRITING IT!! i love you all and tysm for over 400 followers!! 🩷🩷

XOXO

gabs 💋

[heartsforvin]

facetime sex with vinnie since they are a long distance couple

FUN OVER THE PHONE

thank you for the request !! i hope you enjoy <3

pairing; vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings; phone sex, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, praise kink, cussing, lmk if i missed anything !

summary; long distance can be rough on people, thankfully you and vinnie know how to ease the tension

fresh out of the shower, you wrap the towel around you and walk to open the bathroom door slightly to air out the bathroom a bit.

you lived alone so you didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing you naked. after opening the door, you start your night routine, skin care, brushing your hair and your teeth, and just getting ready for the night.

as soon as you finish up, you drop the towel to put on your pajama clothes but are soon interrupted by your phone ringing.

“hey ba—oh,” vinnie stops mid sentence when he realizes you’re not in frame. “sweetheart?”

you peak your head above the counter just enough for the blonde to see you. “hi my love.”

you finish putting on your top while you hear vinnie talking, making you laugh to yourself.

when you jump back up into the camera view, vinnie has a wide smile across his face.

“nice panties, princess.” vinnie smirks, making you cover your front as if he hasn’t seen you naked before.

although, that was months ago. you and vinnie are long distance, he’s in LA while you’re in seattle for college.

it’s rough at times, but it makes seeing each other in person a lot more special.

“shut up and come tear them off me.” you don’t know where the confidence came from since you just tired to shield yourself moments ago, but vinnie smiles.

“that something you want?” his tone is teasing, you know what he wants, and you want it too.

walking to your room, you set your phone against something so vinnie can see you fully.

you stand in front of your phone, the smirk on vinnie’s face never leaves as he watches you pick up the waistband of your panties and pull it down a bit.

pulling them back up to rest on your waist, you can tell vinnie’s rolling his eyes at you right now.

“wish you were here.” vinnie says breathlessly, and you can only imagine what he’s doing on the other end of the phone.

you crawl onto your bed and get under the covers. “you just wanna rip my clothes off and fuck me senseless.” you tell him matter of factly.

vinnie groans. “not true,” he says. “maybe a little.” you then hear him whisper.

“i heard that, hacker.” you tell him, smiling as you do.

the two of you sit in silence for a minute before you hear a faint whine on the other end of the line.

you wait a moment to see if vinnie would say something but he doesn’t. “baby?” you ask.

the noise is heard again but louder, making you smile and realize what he’s doing. “vin, look up.” you say, and he does as told, looking up at you.

“holy shit,” he breathes out once he sees you had propped your phone up against something on your bed. “you’re so fucking beautiful.”

you were kneeling on your bed with nothing covering you, on full display for the man on the other end of the phone.

the smile never leaves his face as he watches you slowly move your hands down your body, wishing it was him touching you like that.

you hear shuffling from the other end and smirk, moving your hands farther down your body until you reach the place that needs the most attention.

vinnie watches as you move your hand lower and lower until you reach the end, that’s when he stops you before you can even do anything, and says. “play with your tits for me.”

the way he says it makes you even more wet than you already are. moving your hands back up your body, you see vinnie smile when you push and squeeze your tits together.

“fuck,” the man on the other line moans, and you can hear the wet sounds as he does, making you more needy. “so good for me, sweetheart.”

you give vinnie a sweet smile then go back to what you were originally doing. you look up at your phone to see your boyfriend with his head back and eyes closed, giving you the prettiest sight.

pushing a finger into yourself, you gasp when you do, making vinnie open his eyes and look at what’s in front of him. he watches you intently, wishing it could be him making you feel good.

all that could be heard is the wet sounds from either end of the call and profanities being moaned out.

“that’s it, pretty girl,” you hear vinnie praise, making you speed up your actions along with him. “look so pretty like this while you moan my name.”

it takes everything in you to not let go right there, you’re not ready to yet, and you can tell vinnie isn’t either.

you watch as his actions speed up, his breathing becoming more erratic, and his head slowly lulling back onto his pillow.

when vinnie realizes he stopped hearing you, he opens his eyes and looks at you. “like this, sweet girl?” he asks in a teasing tone. “like watching me get off to the thought of you?”

you can’t help but let a moan slip, making the man smile. “yeah, i know you do.” he says, pace quickening.

a string of profanities and vinnie’s name rolls off your tongue when you hit a particularly good spot, making vinnie smirk at the camera. “you gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

you bite your lip and nod your head but vinnie doesn’t take that as an answer. “words, my love.” he tells you.

trying your best to let actual words slip out, you say a faint ‘yes’ to which vinnie tells you that he can’t hear you.

you roll your eyes at your boyfriend and say the word a little louder, making vinnie smile.

“good girl,” he praises. “go on and cum for me, pretty. imagine it’s my cock you’re cumming all over…yeah, that’s it.” he talks you through it and pretty soon is right behind you.

the two of you come down from your highs, chests heaving and sweat dripping from your foreheads as you do.

you give vinnie a smile and all he wants to do now is cuddle you and kiss your pretty face.

“wish i could kiss you all over, my pretty girl.” he tells you, making your smile grow wider.

you want nothing more than that, but you two will see each other soon.

“i got something for you until then.” you tell him, and he already knows you’re up to something.

“yeah?” he questions. “what’s that?”

you lean up a bit and make sure your head is out of frame so it’s just your chest. you push your tits together once more and vinnie groans.

“gonna get me hard again, baby.” he warns, but it really isn’t a warning.

you giggle, getting back into frame so he can see you. “i love you, vin,” you say, making the man smile. “this was fun.”

he’s sad it’s coming to an end, but both of you have things to do in the morning and can’t talk all night, unfortunately .

“i love you too, princess. sweet dreams, my pretty girl.” he tells you.

the two of you blow each other kisses, saying one last ‘i love you’ and ‘goodnight’ before hanging up for the night.

i’m slacking I KNOW 🥲 but i finally got this out so here it is !!

also i know there’s a demand for more fluff, and there definitely will be, trust. but i also have like 3 or 4 other smut requests rn 😭

but the fluff WILL come, just gimme some time cus ya girl is busy busy

but i hope you all enjoyed, i rewrote it and i like this version better, so i hope you all do too !!

taglist: @forevergirlposts , @cosmicanakin , @lyndys , @lovingsturniolo , @slvthrs , @kriissy4gov , @laylasbunbunny , @kayleiggh , @hallecarey1 , @st4rswrld , @supabhad , @visualbutterflysworld , @leqonsluv3r

also thank you again for 300 followers !! i love you all sooooo much 🤍

[notjustjavierpena]

Him

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Part 3 of Mean!Joel coming straight to ya. This is a big mishmash of emotions, I’m sorry, but something has to lead to part 4.

Summary: You find a dress during a supplies run but Joel doesn’t give a shit about you looking nice for him.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), dub-con and mentions of non-con, dirty talk, painful and rough PIV sex, unprotected sex, creampie, choking, fingering, pussy slapping

Word count: 4.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48179338/chapters/121494847

Him

There’s the distinct smell of mold and old basement in the abandoned apartment complex. Joel has told you to stay close to him, but as soon as he tells you that the place is clear, you wander off and he grumbles something about it being your funeral. 

“Only what’s necessary,” he had said on the way up the stairs, still clutching onto his rifle as if something could come out of the shadows any second despite your thorough investigation of the place.

You go through each room of your selected condo, but there is nothing interesting to be found. There had been a convenience store last week which had been picked over except for a few toothbrushes. You had given the toothbrushes to a couple of the kids back at Jackson, but still been bummed that you have yet to find something that you can take home just for yourself. Last month, some of the other women had found a box of old 2000s clothes and you had been disappointed at not having been there with them as they chose whatever they wanted. You are still empty-handed. 

That is, until now. 

In the master bedroom, you go through the clothes that whoever used to live here has left behind. It isn’t a particularly thrilling closet, but you think it almost feels like shopping as you push the hangers to the side along the metal bar one by one. Everything has been eaten by moths.

“Find anything?” Joel pops his head through the door, walks closer a second after to see what you are doing. He rolls his eyes, “Find anything of importance?”

You give him a pointed look, but he just returns it. 

“These are boring anyw—“ you stop at a garment that’s wrapped in a protective travel bag made of plastic. It makes you raise a brow, unzipping the front of the garment bag only to reveal a short, expensive-looking cocktail dress. You pull it off its hanger and hold it up in front of you, “I think this is my size.”

“Yippee,” he deadpans, but you see him glancing down at the garment and you hope that he is imagining you in it, “I said only useful things.” 

“You actually said necessary,” you remind him and he scoffs, shifts, and turns away from you. Anyone who witnesses your interaction will never guess that you are sleeping together, but you like the fact that you despise him outside of the bedroom. It makes it even more fun and satisfying when he finally gives in to come fuck you. 

You feel the satin fabric between your fingers. It’s in good condition, having been saved from moths by being packed away in a plastic garment bag. It’s a classic little black dress where the hem stops just above the knees and the slit in the side leaves just enough for the imagination. You hook your fingers into the spaghetti straps and watch the way the fabric falls around the chest area. It’s very simple and elegant, and nothing like anything you’ve ever owned, “I like it. I’m taking it with me.” 

“Whatever,” Joel says after a sigh.

You stuff the dress into your bag, determined to restore it to its former glory. 

*

Joel never tells you when he will stop by and you don’t ask in case it will come off as begging for his attention. Despite this, you have a hunch of his intention to have his way with you whenever he starts acting differently around you; looks at you whenever he thinks you aren’t paying attention to him, ravishing you with his eyes that get just a little bit darker than when he normally glances your way. 

Additionally, he gets more short-tempered with your never-ending snark, and you swear that today you could see his hand twitch by his side as if he was desperate to yank you away from the rest, itching to grab whatever he could in that moment even if it meant pulling you back to your place by your hair. It had really set your next encounter in stone when you’d called him a caveman without the others hearing. The rest of the day had been him fidgeting like crazy.

You know that he doesn’t realize these tells, because he’d never give you the satisfaction of having him figured out, but oh how you wish that his stupid, overly aggressive behavior is deliberate and all for you. 

You look at yourself in the bedroom mirror after sliding on the dress, knowing you’ll see him soon because he is a man of habit and you’re his vice. 

It is rare that you see yourself dressed up like this, but the butterflies that you feel in your stomach as you gaze at your reflection make you certain that Joel will like this in just the right way.

At that, the butterflies move down between your legs where you are not wearing anything to cover you. You dip your hand between your thighs, pushing the fabric inwards, and it over your mound. You try to tell yourself that you’ve skipped the underwear because it would be visible underneath the fabric of the dress, but you know the real reason is him. You hate yourself for hating him to the point where he floods your mind whenever he isn’t here. 

You want to pull the dress up over your hips, rub your clit that’s throbbing in anticipation, but instead, you just wait.

*

When your waiting comes to an end, you hear Joel violently open the front door downstairs, ripping at the handle and calling your name multiple times to which you do not respond. There’s always a game here; where it had started out being a real refusal of him, it has turned into something else. The moment he had made you come the first time, you knew there was no going back to what was before. Now, you enjoy the cat-and-mouse act where you want him to corner you. 

Joel looks tense and impatient when he steps into your bedroom, but he doesn’t say anything for you to read the tone of his voice. He is aggressively shrugging off his jacket, biting into a leather glove’s fingertip to pull it off his hand before moving to the other and doing the same. 

The gloves suggest that he has worked late today and not showered as you have, that he has taken his frustrations towards you out on hard labor but to no avail; he has still walked in here, too turned on to pass your house on his way home. 

His outerwear ends up on the floor beside him and then he stalks after you. He is hard in his jeans, his eyes cold and black with desire, and for some reason, you find yourself backing away just because he still hasn’t opened his mouth.

“Get the fuck back here,” he seethes. He grabs your arm and pulls, too fast for you as you try to take another step away, “Why didn’t you come when I called ya?”

“Sorry, I-I…”

“You come when I call. Full stop,” he traps you against your bedroom wall and doesn’t acknowledge the dress whatsoever. The hand on your arm slides up until it rests at your throat, squeezing without doing too much damage to your windpipe whilst he examines your face. He needs you to talk, “Do you understand?”

His nostrils flare whilst you nod frantically. The grip on your throat has you lightheaded, but you think that you might want it like this, to be just on the edge of getting tunnel vision so you can see only him. He looks beautiful like this, you think, angry like a God, but your thoughts are interrupted and you moan as he shakes you a little.

“Words, use ‘em, you fuckin’ bimbo.”

“Yes, I understand,” you croak, but he mustn’t think that you give in so easily. There are a million snarky comments to select from in your head, but he doesn’t give you time to choose your favorite when he makes you cough as he lets go of your neck.

“You needa take this stupid fuckin’ dress off or I’ll rip it to pieces. You know I will,” he growls, and you bite your tongue to keep yourself from saying something to spite him. Something to hurt his huge masculine ego and compare him to a Neanderthal. So much for looking nice for his pleasure. 

Additionally, so much for scrubbing the fabric of the dress you had found in the abandoned condo until your hands were raw. In the end, it doesn’t surprise you that he doesn’t give a damn because he hadn’t even been enthusiastic when you had shown it to him during your supplies patrol together. You’d hoped that it had just been because he hadn’t seen you in it.

With a sour expression, you yank at the straps and Joel lets out a condescending huff of a laugh as he watches. You slide the straps off your shoulders and down your arms until you can pull at the top of the dress to guide it down your body. When it reaches the swell of your hips, you wiggle your ass until it pools at your feet. Joel goes quiet at the realization that you’ve gone commando.

“You were prepared, huh? Easy fuckin’ access. All I had to do was just pull it up over your ass, but ya wanted me to find out like this,” Joel tuts, immediately placing a foot between your feet. Gross, you think to yourself at hearing those words but you also realize, with the way that your walls flutter in a delicious clench of your cunt, that you like gross. Joel holds a hand out, and you get ready for the worst, but he simply cups your whole mound in his enormous hand, “Filthy girl, I fuck you that good? So good you wanna be ready for cock like that?” 

All confidence seeps out of you in an instant, because fuck, he is touching you and you almost forget how much it turns you into a little obedient dog. You gasp and find yourself pathetically nodding in an aroused state that has taken hold of you so quickly that you are feeling dizzy. You think, perhaps, that it has something to do with how it felt the last time the two of you were together. You don’t think you’ve ever come so many times in a row, kicking your legs, crying and screaming in pleasure as he reveled in your painful oversensitivity. He had promised that it would hurt, and it did, deliciously, for several days afterward. You miss being able to have a reminder of him with every step you take.

You realize now that the dress probably came off as a laughable attempt at making him have his wicked way with you once more instead of pleasing him.

Pleasing him. 

Pleasing. Him.

Fuck.

Two thick fingers press into you and the ability to elaborate on the thought of wanting to do something nice for him disappears. Instead, you keen loudly and throw yourself back into the wall with a thump. He sinks his digits knuckle-deep into your sex, and it hurts because he doesn’t give you time to adjust. 

You furrow your brows, looking down at where the heel of his hand is pushing into your clit. You take what you can get to soothe the stretch of your pussy, grinding your hips into his palm with a mewl. Your mouth hangs open in an o-shape and you’re already panting for him, desperate to come as he harshly takes his annoyance out on your g-spot. His fingers are warm inside of you from the gloves despite how he has just come from the outside, and they drag deliciously outwards along your walls again and again. 

It makes you come with a soft cry not long after. He settles his fingers inside of your cunt as you clamp down on them, a gush of your arousal dripping down into his palm as you shake and try to hold yourself up. 

Joel laughs at the dazed look in your eyes when you come down. He thrusts his fingers inside of you once more without warning before removing them altogether, smirking at the gasp you let out from being empty so soon again.

“Joel.”

You don’t know why you’re saying his name, but it makes him go a little softer. He still has his hand between your legs, fingers slowly sliding back and forth through your slick folds. It feels good, your hips stuttering each time the pads of his fingers slip across your clit, “Ya want more, sweetheart? Tell me what ya want. Ain’t that hard to use your words.”

“I missed you,” you dare to breathe because it’s true. Although it’s not so much him as it is the way he makes you feel between your legs.

He brings down his hand on your pulsing mound and clit. It makes you nearly fall to your knees but he catches you, wrapping his strong arms around you as you slump against him. It’s the post-orgasmic sensitivity that’s making it hurt like you didn’t know it could, and suddenly you have tears in your eyes from the stinging heat the slap has left. You quickly blink them away because he spits abuse at you, and you won’t give him the satisfaction of making you come and then cry, “Shut the fuck up. Don’t give me any of that pussy shit.” 

It’s a weird contrast to being held, but you suppose that he can’t fuck you if you fall face-first into the wooden floorboards and earn yourself a bad concussion. You wouldn’t put it past him though, knowing he’d probably laugh at the gibberish that you’d blabber as you came on his dick without being able to recall it the next day. 

Joel carries you in his arms, drags your feet across the floor until he can throw you onto your bed. You lie on top of the covers and look at him with glazed eyes, watching him unbuckle his belt and shove his jeans down impatiently. He undresses the rest of himself in a hurry, showing little mercy for the flannel he is wearing as he nearly pops off its buttons. It seems like a chase to get to you, but Joel has no opponents, and he’ll never have any. 

“If ya can’t use your mouth for anything other than soundin’ like a little girl begging for my attention, then you might as well have it put to other use,” he says matter-of-factly. He kneels onto the bed then, crawls forward on his knees, and settles one on either side of your head. 

His dick impressively stands into the air, an angry red color to the head that begs for touch and threatens to drip with precome. It’s never felt more inviting to suck him off, even despite the obvious unease that you’d felt the last time that he had had his dick in your mouth. 

When the bead of precome finally becomes too big and slides down his length, you respond by greedily letting your mouth fall open. He slides the fat head past your lips. The girth of him already has your jaw aching, but you take him in as far as you can and use your fist for what doesn’t fit. Your wrist twists as you work him in unison with your mouth. 

You set up a slow pace, bobbing your head despite the knowledge of how strained your neck will be in the morning when you are lying down like this. The strain is worth it all though, because you earn a moan from him. It tells you exactly how you’re doing; it’s low and guttural above you. Your pussy screams for more. 

With your lips closed around him, you suck him off in earnest to get another reaction. You hollow your cheeks whenever you draw off of him, and whilst you’re at the tip, you run the flat of your tongue along the sensitive underside. 

Not that it should surprise you at this point, but no matter how hard you try to start slow and steady, Joel becomes enthusiastic about his own pleasure very quickly and it leaves very little empathy for you. He thrusts forwards, practically burying his cock down your windpipe and you immediately start to shed big, wet tears. 

“Fuck,” he moans quietly into the room. He stares down at you, one large hand cupping your cheek to hold you in place if you try to squirm away. Your tears slide down over the back of his hand, but he doesn’t comment on it. 

Your whimper vibrates along his hard length as he starts using your throat. With his generous size, it’s hard to breathe without choking. The air simply won’t go down your lungs in the way this overwork on your body demands. It causes you to drool, slicking his dick as spit pools in your mouth. It begins to dribble down your chin, his balls smacking wetly against it.

You’re a complete and utter mess beneath him with your nose buried in his happy trail. You take his brutal stabs to the back of your throat in stride and relax your neck muscles to take him as far as humanly possible. 

His free hand curls around your hair. Occasionally, he pulls it instead of moving his hips. Your head swims, your tears flow and your throat continuously gags with obscenely wet noises. He is so noisy above you. It keeps focus on your throbbing clit instead of your pained jaw.

From his breathing, you can hear that Joel is getting closer to coming. He gets a little louder, hips stuttering and dick pulsing just a bit more on your tongue. He suddenly pulls back with a force that tells you that he has used every fiber of self-restraint to do it. You didn’t think that his caveman behavior would make him able to edge himself.

“Shit, that was too close,” he grits out between pants, moving back on you again until he is between your legs. He squeezes around the base of his cock whilst you cough violently. 

“Can’t handle a little deep-throating?” You tease hoarsely.

“Fuck you,” he snaps, mercilessly pulling your legs apart by reaching behind himself and grabbing your ankles. He digs his nails into your legs as he slides his hands upward again, smacks one of your thighs aggressively, jiggling the flesh after.

“Yes, please,” you moan at the tiny sting he has caused to your upper leg, “Please, Joel. Fuck me.” 

“Turn around,” he commands. 

“But I wanna see you,” you start but it sounds way too sugary, “-r face when you come inside me.” 

“Yeah? Well, I don’t wanna see ya,” he says with little affection, drawing a circle in the air, “Do as you’re told and turn around. I can leave if—“

“No!” You protest a little too quickly. It earns you a smug smile that tells you Joel’s ego has grown three sizes in a mere second. God, you despise how needy he makes you. 

You move onto your front, lying flat on your belly. You turn your face to the side, grabbing at whatever of the sheets you can curl your fingers into. Joel shuffles behind you, reaches for your hips to angle your pelvis and you help him by bending your knees and pushing your legs out to the sides. 

Suddenly, his crushing weight is on top of you so he can whisper filth in your ear and keep you on the verge of insanity as you wait for him. You let out a soft sound as air is knocked out of your lungs and you feel like your pelvis might snap in half. It helps that his lips attach to the space where your neck meets your shoulder, biting more than sucking. 

“Gonna make ya cream yourself on my dick, honey,” he promises with confidence in his voice, still high on his ego trip from before. Your body responds with several somersaults in your lower abdomen, your pussy clenching at its emptiness and demand for more.  

“Oh fuck, Joel, n-need you to make it hurt… till I can’t breathe, baby.”

“Yeah?” He stretches again, gets comfortable on his knees, and jiggles the flesh of your behind before smacking your ass hard. He spreads your cheeks to spit down the cleft of your ass, watching it run down over your puckered hole and further down over your pussy. It earns you a groan, “This pussy is so ready for me. Look at it drippin’.”

Then you feel him pushing into you with brutal force until you can do nothing else, but mewl weakly. It feels like he is splitting you open right down the middle of your lower body, rough hands holding you in place by your waist.

He never fails to give you exactly what you ask for. Even despite this, you put on a show of trying to crawl away from him and you’re rewarded by another hard slap to your ass. Joel moans as it makes you clench around him. 

“You stay right here where I want ya,” he growls, setting up a rhythm that makes you want to sob. He is bruising you to the point where your eyes water, filling you to the brim with every thrust and slamming the fat head of his cock into your front wall where his little favorite spot is. When you whine loudly and wantonly, he laughs darkly, “Greedy little whore. You’re fucking shameless, ain’t you? Don’t even try— fuck. You don’t even try to hide how much you want it.” 

“Yes, fuck Joel, keep going,” you egg him on as your g-spot is getting the treatment it needs to make you scream. You arch your back a little by lifting your head from the mattress, and Joel takes it as an opportunity to slide his right hand around the front of your throat until he can contort your body to accept each hard thrust without slipping away. 

The new angle makes you grip the sheets so hard that you think you might tear the fabric. Fuck it, you think, they’re old ones anyway, and with the way that you are gushing around Joel’s dick, you think you might just throw them out after this. There’s no way you’re going to give them the same treatment as the dress if no one will appreciate it.

Joel’s hand moves up to cup your whole jaw. His other hand is bound to leave a mark on your hip bone, bracing himself on it as he pounds you until he can feel tears run down over the fingers on your chin. He kisses your back, slides his tongue up to your shoulder where he plants a wet kiss. It helps with staying focused and soothes you a little as he relentlessly moves inside of you. 

He tilts your head back afterward, moves his hips a little forwards without slipping out to tower over your body. His thumb drags down on your chin, leaving your mouth a little open.

And then he kisses you for the first time ever, right on your open mouth whilst bottoming out over and over inside of your cunt right where you need him the most. You melt into his lips, delirious with pleasure that’s sending you closer to the edge and pain that’s going to linger for a few days. 

But it’s neither the pain nor pleasure that unravels you in his arms. It’s the fact that you are being allowed something so intimate from him, causing tears to spill as he tears down the pleasure that he’s built inside of your belly. You come with a feeble sob, clamping down on his cock which feels bigger now that your cunt is quivering with pleasurable shocks. 

It’s too much for him. He thrusts a few times more before his hips stutter. He buries himself inside your pussy, the tip of his dick nudging your cervix. You feel his warm load fill you up, wet squelches echoing through your quiet bedroom as he fucks you through his aftershocks. 

Your thighs are aching, your fingers too. Your cunt is a whole other story, painfully sensitive as he pulls out with a moan and rolls off of you. 

It doesn’t matter. Absolutely none of it matters. Not a single fucking thing matters besides the way that he is pulling you down onto his chest, still kissing you on the lips, roughly in the beginning, but slowly now that his energy is spent.

After a while, he starts to move. 

“No,” you whine, “Stay. Please.”

“I can’t,” he mumbles, “That ain’t how this works.”

He leaves ten minutes later, but you ache more from heartbreak than the bruises that have started to form on your skin.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[palioom]

Hi omg I love your work so much I’ve been following your fics every time you post I thank the twitter algorithm everyday for letting your fics get to me 🥹

if you’re taking requests could I request maybe some period sex? Any Pedro pascal character of your choice! :))

Either that or just a fic with LOTS of oral fem receiving? Up to you :))

Can’t wait for your future fics, with or without my requests 🥹

hi! thank you so much for your request! i had so much fun writing this, basically went right to work and just waited a bit to post it!! I hope you enjoy! 🖤

recommended dose of dick

summary: waking up to your period in the morning, you insist that javier still goes to work. when he comes back in the evening, having worried about you all day, he knows exactly how to help you.

pairing: javier peña x f!reader word count: 2.4k warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n (but a lot of nicknames); period sex; period talk; descriptions of blood; unprotected p in v; fingering; javier being sweet as hell

• masterlist •

Cramps.

That’s all she woke up to, that annoying tug in her abdomen and the mild cramps that would certainly get worse as the sun rose higher.

Honestly, she had been expecting it. That weird feeling in her stomach had been bothering her for days now, her breasts had suddenly started to hurt, too.

Still, she couldn’t quite stop herself from snapping at Javier when he woke up in the morning, already finding her in the kitchen, sipping her coffee. Slightly hunched over, a hot-water bottle pressed against her stomach despite the sweltering Colombian heat.

He knew immediately what plagued her, kissing the top of her head as he walked up to her, hearing her grumpy hum.

“Want me to stay home, cariño?” He asked, brushing his knuckles over her cheek. She looked tired and fucking exhausted, worse than he did sometimes after a long chase. 

Javier wouldn’t even try to say he understood her pain, because he truly did not. What he knew was that it hurt like hell and not even painkillers seemed to help in the first couple of days. Not for her, at least.

“How’re they gonna catch Escobar if you’re not there?” She responded, looking at him as he poured himself his own cup of coffee.  “I think I’ll call in today but you go to work or Escobar is gonna be the least of your worries.”

A small laugh escaped her as she said that, regretting it as a sharp pain shot through her.

He just smiled a little, drinking his coffee.

“You’re not scaring anybody like this, cariño.” He replied, chuckling into his cup as she shot daggers at him over the rim of hers.

All day he spent thinking about her, wondering if she was holding up alright every free minute he got. Javier knew she was tough, she would make it through the day without him somehow.

But he was worried about how she felt. Some months were worse than others, and it ranged from some cramps and back pain to feeling dizzy and sick and barely being able to move.

So once he got off work, later than he had expected to, he drove straight home, taking the chocolates he had picked up before work with him.

She loved them when she was on her period, said it brought her some relief, as long as she didn’t eat too much at once. It was the least he could do for her.

At least in a non-physical way.

Smiling when he walked into their shared apartment, setting the sweets down before finding her curled up in bed, blanket pulled up to her chin despite the heat, eyes closed but not sleeping.

Javier’s heart broke a little, seeing her like this. Hated to see her in pain, tired and exhausted.

Maybe he could help her a little.

Kneeling down in front of her, he brushed some hair out of her face, letting the rough pads of his fingers trace over her temple and down to her jaw. Taking in just how tired she looked, but also how beautiful.

Always so goddamn beautiful, no matter what.

Her eyes opened, bleary as she squinted at him, the smallest smile tugging at the corners of her pretty lips.

“Hey.”

He chuckled softly, thumb brushing over her cheekbone.

“Hey, cariño.” Voice quiet as he spoke, he leaned forward to kiss her forehead, lingering for just a few seconds longer than he usually would. “Still bad?”

She nodded and hummed before she sighed, freeing one arm of her loose cocoon of blankets and reaching out to brush some of his dark hair back, letting her fingernails run along his scalp.

“Been trying to sleep all day ‘cause nothing helps, but I can’t even sleep.”

He wished he had stayed home with her, then he at least could have tried to help her. Even if it was only to bring her things, to cuddle with her.

But as she had said, Escobar would have been nothing compared to her if he had stayed.

“Got an idea how to help the cramps and tire you out.” He said, smirking just a little.

As her brows knit together in confusion, he let out a soft laugh.

It took her a moment too long to realize what he meant, rolling her eyes with a smile as she did.

“God, Javi.” 

“Took you long enough to get.” He grinned, thumb still brushing over her cheek. So soft and warm, her soft smile making her cheeks appear so much bigger, making her look adorable. “What do you say, mhm?”

Leaning in, he slotted his lips against hers, hand moving to pull back the blanket she had wrapped herself in. The smallest hum left her, letting him continue as he rolled her onto her back by her shoulder, deepening the kiss as he went.

She immediately felt a different kind of pressure in her abdomen, moaning when his hand dipped into her tank top and squeezed her sensitive breast.

It was like a switch had been flipped, needing nothing more than him between her thighs and his cock inside of her, eternally thankful that he was so nonchalant about the mess of it all.

When he pulled back and got up, she looked up at him confused.

“Just a moment, cariño.” He said, leaving the room.

There was the sound of cabinets opening and closing, then he was back already, towels in hand and having shedded his jacket now.

She laughed when he threw the towels into the bed next to her before climbing on top of her, the pain that followed after making her grunt softly.

“Looks like you really need some relief, querida.” He chuckled, starting to take off her top. Rough, broad hands roamed over the warm and exposed skin before moving to work on her sweatpants next.

“Can’t wait for my recommended dose of dick, guaranteed to relieve any period cramps.” She joked, the smile that graced her pretty face so stunning, even despite the pain she was in. “Been waiting all day for you to deliver it to me.”

“You told me to go to work, querida.” He said, hooking his fingers under the waistband and pulling them down slowly.  “Could’ve had it a lot sooner.”

She rolled her eyes, pulling him down to her by the collar of his shirt, kissing him. He felt so warm against her, his hands wandering down to lay over her lower abdomen, right where he knew it hurt the most.

Like it usually did, his hands were almost better than any hot-water bottle when he placed them there.

It brought her some relief, sighing into his mouth as her hands worked on the button of his too tight jeans, needing him desperately.

His hands just never were enough.

She peeled the denim off of him with his help and his shirt followed next, leaving him only in his boxers.

When she gently palmed him, he stopped for just a moment with a soft groan, making her chuckle.

“Fuck, cariño.”

Javier let her continue for a few more seconds before remembering he was supposed to help her, not have her do this to him.

So he moved her hand away, sitting back on his haunches before grabbing the towel. She lifted her hips without a word, biting her lip as he placed it beneath her, then moving to pull off her panties.

She felt so exposed, like every time they did this, even though it was far from the first time he had fucked her like this, his thick fingers already brushing over the inside of her thighs before finding her lips. Pressing two fingers against her sensitive clit, he watched how she squirmed, took in her throaty hum that turned into a drawn out moan.

“Javier, please-” She moaned, rolling her hips against his fingers, her own twisting into the sheets.

Pressure already building as he gently pressed against the swollen bud, knowing she needed more than this, letting them slip lower to her aching hole.

He pressed one inside, slowly, her body tensing for a moment before relaxing into the mattress below her, his thick finger slowly opening her up, stroking along her most sensitive spots and making her whine.

Eyes closing when he added a second one, pumping in and out of her, curling them into that soft spot that made her see stars, arching her back.

“How’s that feel?” Javier asked, curling his fingers repeatedly until her thighs started shaking and her sounds became breathier, then stopped the motion. 

Even like this he couldn’t stop teasing her.

“Feel’s good- fuck, but I need you Javi, please, baby.” She whined, opening her eyes to peer at him, the pressure inside her unbearable as her pain slowly became secondary. “Stop being mean.”

“Mean?” He echoed her statement with a grin, once again curling his fingers over and over, feeling her get closer, hips bucking up and into his motions.

Her orgasm hit her faster than she thought it would, moaning as she contracted around him, coating his hand with her blood, the slick sounds echoing between them as he kept working his fingers inside of her.

“That’s my pretty girl, there you go. Just like that, cariño.”

Pushing her through every last wave as she hummed and moaned and whined, visibly relaxing already as the cramps eased slowly.

But she needed more, reaching for his wrist to make him pull back, seeing his fingers covered in her blood and feeling her face grow hotter at the sight.

There would always be something forbidden about this, like he wasn’t supposed to do this and like she wasn’t supposed to like this as much as she did.

She was happy that he didn’t mind the blood or the mess, wiping it onto the towel before moving to take his boxers off.

Visibly liking this a little too much as well, his hard length pulsing as he hovered over her, hand caressing her neck while he kissed her.

“Getting better?” Javier asked, notching himself against her slick entrance, her legs falling open just a little more.

She hummed in affirmation, smiling. “Still need my recommended dose of dick.”

He chuckled, bending his head to kiss her sternum, his mustache tickling her hot, sensitive skin.

“Yeah, I’ll give you that, don’t worry.” Javier said, slowly pressing inside, groaning against her skin.

Her fingers threaded into his hair, moaning at the feeling of him splitting her open slowly, inch by inch.

It still hurt, but in a strangely good way, feeling just a little uncomfortable as he stilled to give her time, so sensitive.

His mouth made its way up her neck, nipping at her skin as he went, feeling the vibrations of her hums in her throat. Slowly higher up until he found her lips, kissing her so hard it made her dizzy, his hips slowly beginning to rock back and forth.

Her moan was swallowed by his mouth, his tongue finding hers as he pushed back into her, the wet squelch of her pussy only spurring him on.

Over and over, her hands tracing over his broad back, back arching up into her as he kept hitting that spot inside of her, slowly becoming faster as he kept building her up, the pain shrinking down into a mild annoyance at this point.

His body felt heavenly against hers, so warm and solid, feeling his muscles flex and tense, pressing her deeper into the mattress.

“Javi, gonna come-” She choked out as his lips left hers to nip and suck at her neck again, leaving her no time until she tightened around him a second time, whining against his shoulder as her body tensed up.

Wave after wave setting her veins on fire, pushing the pain further away, finally having some peace for the first time today.

“Like that, fuck- Feels good, baby!” She mumbled into his skin as he gradually lost his rhythm, thrusts becoming sloppier.

“There you are, hermosa, fucking pretty girl- Fuck!” 

His teeth sank into her neck as he came, pressing himself deep inside of her, the pulsing of her slick pussy drawing him in deeper.

Feeling so tight around him, happy as he noticed her relax underneath him, trembling just a little at the sensation.

He stayed buried inside of her for a while as they caught their breaths, soothing the bite he left, his rough hands smoothing over her hips as he did. 

“Dose of dick effective?” Lifting his head to look at her, he caught her smile, drowsy and lopsided.

“Very effective.” She chuckled, cupping his cheeks with her hands, brushing her thumbs over his cheeks. “You’re the best, Javi.”

He hummed, pressing another kiss to her lips before he kissed her forehead, then pulled out of her slowly.

It was amazing how nothing could help but him fucking into her, her cramps gone for the time being.

“Magic dick.” She giggled as he got up to get a wet washcloth to clean them both up, making him laugh as he nudged her knee.

That deep laugh she didn’t get to hear as often as she would like to, his head always elsewhere, occupied with work.

“You need sleep, hermosa.” He said when he was back, already cleaned up himself and now wiping the warm, wet rag along her inner thighs and over her middle. Removing all the blood as carefully as he could. “You should be able to now.”

Finished with his task, he brought the rag back to the bathroom to be cleaned tomorrow.

If she hadn’t been so damn tired he would have dragged her off into a shower, but she was already dozing off as he came back to her, climbing into bed.

Looking so beautiful like this, eyes barely open to look at him, small smile on her face.

He pulled her against him, mindful of the towel, kissing her forehead.

“Maybe you can stay home tomorrow.” She mumbled, eyes drifting shut, feeling incredibly at ease now, slumped against his body. “Give me more of that magic dick.”

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. His hand smoothed over her back, up and down along her spine.

“Sleep, we’ll see about getting you a dose in the morning.” 

Her laugh was nothing more than a sharp exhale through her nose before she dozed off, her face finally relaxed and peaceful.

He doubted he could stay home with all that was going on now, but there would certainly be time for a morning dose before he had to leave her.

[rafecameronsmistress]

NO ESCAPE

description] Fem Reader x Rafe Cameron x Barry

[summary] After a rough breakup Rafe sends Barry out to find you at a party and what they have for you in store is a nightmare full of pleasure

[cw + tw] 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, abusive relationship, physical abuse, strong language, stalking, non con, alcohol use, drug use, gun use, life threatening, degrading talk, angst, fear, embarrassment, SMUT

[authors note] this one is VERY long and has VERY sensitive triggers, please read at your own risk

‼️ADULT CONTENT AHEAD‼️

Enjoy 🖤

________________________________

Text messages:

- Kie: hey are you coming to Sarah’s party tonight? it’s at the water, i can pick you up

- y/n: i dont know.. after everything that happened with Rafe im afraid he’ll show up and i don’t want to see him right now

- Kie: Sarah told me he wasn’t going because she invited pogues lmao

- y/n: i’ll think about it, i’ll call you in an hour or so

- Kie: kk <3

Rafe and i dated for a year before things got bad, we had our ups and downs but never did i expect him to put his hands on me in a violent way

Rafe hit me for the first time a month ago, he said he was sorry and that he just couldn’t handle the way things were going with his family and business

i gave him the benefit of the doubt because he has been under so much stress and sometimes i add to the problem

two days later he hit me again and split my lip open then screamed in my face because i got blood on his shirt

slowly his i love you’s turned into i hate you’s

it’s hard because i love him so much, he was the picture boyfriend, until he wasn’t

i hid the abuse, i didn’t want people to know, just incase he changed

my friends know we ended badly but they just assumed it’s because Rafe is an asshole, everybody knows he is

the first time he threatened to kill me was the day that i left, that was only a week ago

he held me down on the floor of his bedroom with one hand around my throat and the other holding his pistol to my temple “the next time you speak to me like that again i’m going to put a bullet in your fucking skull, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?” his words spit on me like venom

a part of me misses him and that’s why i don’t want to see him tonight, i’ll cave and end up going home with him, i know i will, because i love him

i lay down in bed and close my eyes, i’ll make a decision in a little while

i fall asleep for a few hours and when i wake up i have another text from Kie

Kie: so Sarah and i decided you ARE coming because we need you!! she told me Rafe will not be there, the boys are coming too nothing bad is going to happen!! get dressed bitch i’ll pick you up at 7

i text JJ, John B, and Pope in a group chat

- me: hey all 3 of you are going to Sarah’s party tonight right?

- John B: yeah i’m here now helping her set up

- Pope: yes i’m picking Cleo up soon

- JJ: yep Kie called me and told me that you’re afraid Captain Douchebag will show up so obviously i will be there… and i would like to drink some alcohol…

- me: thanks boys, see you later <3

i let out a sigh of relief, at least those 3 will be able to handle Rafe if he shows up

i undress myself to take a shower and run my fingers over my yellow healing rib cage where Rafe had kicked me a couple weeks ago

tonight will be fun. tonight will be fun. tonight will be fun. i try to convince myself, i deserve to go out

after i shower i do my hair and makeup then get dressed

i throw on a short pink dress and my birkenstock sandals

7:03pm

text message

- Kie: i’m here

Kie is in my driveway playing music on full blast and dancing like a nut which makes me laugh, i’m always thankful for her trying to lift my spirits

We jam out in the car and get ourselves pumped for the party

When we get there i scan the entire lot for Rafes pickup or dirt bike, neither of which i see

“Relax y/n, he’s not coming” Kie says, she grabs my hand and holds it, we share a smile, hers excited, mine nervous

A giant bonfire glows in the middle of a heard of people

Loud music, beer, liquor, and over 100 people- kooks and pogues combined…

if Rafe isn’t coming, he at least has someone watching

i immediately grab a drink to loosen up so i can enjoy tonight, the first one goes down like water so i pour myself a second

“whoaaa slow down there killa, you’re drinking like me right now!” JJ laughs while nudging my arm “i’ll be right here all night, enjoy yourself, i got you” he says with the sweetest smile

i’m on my 3rd drink and 2nd shot, my cheeks feel rosy and i have the urge to move my hips “Sarah! come dance with me!” i demand while holding out my hand

“sorry babe, my girl needs me” she says to John B getting up from his lap, she grabs hold of my hand and we dance, solo cups in the air

the boys stay close by and enjoy watching us make a fool of our selves while they smoke a joint

my phone vibrates

text message:

- Rafe: don’t drink so much, you’ll get sick

tunnel vision. nausea. panic. swallow it, don’t let anybody know.

“i’ll be right back” i tell Sarah “i need to fill my cup”

“okay” she furrows her eyebrows “you okay?”

i give her a nod and the best smile i could

once i’m out of sight i run to Kie’s car, hopping in and locking the doors, i need to sit down, my heart is pounding out of my chest, i can hear the blood rushing in my ears

*knock knock* i jump out of my skin, i’m met face to face with Barry

“open the door sweetheart” he smiles flashing his gold teeth

this can’t be happening.

i go to grab my phone to call JJ. where is my it?

Barry waves my phone in front of my face taunting me. how the fuck did i drop it?

“open the door y/n, don’t make this difficult” he tugs on the handle “open it, i’m not playing witchu right now” i shake my head “country club wants you to come wit me, y’aint safe here without him” his eyes grow darker, i don’t budge

he gets on the phone, he’s calling Rafe “you either come out on your own or i call him and he pulls you out, your choice” i’m scared. i don’t want to make Rafe mad. but i don’t want to see him. i’m getting a headache.

i make the dumbest decision of my life. i open the door, my hands shaking 100mph.

“that’s it, let’s get you home” he says grabbing my hand hard

my face is burning up. my legs grow weak under me. i’m stone cold sober at this point.

we approach the truck, “Barry please“ i plead “i’m sorry mama, y’know him” he helps me into the passenger seat and buckles me in, “can i have my phone please, i need to tell my friends i went home” i cry “can’t letchu do that, what’s ya password, i’ll text ‘em for you” he says, i shake my head rejecting the offer

he starts the truck and we take off

his phone rings “yeah i got her, she was a good girl, she didn’t fight me” he smirks “we’ll be there soon”

i stay silent, Barry puts his hand on my thigh and i flinch at his touch “what’s wrong sweet thing, scared of a little love?” he laughs

we pull up to Tannyhill, Rafe is standing out front with a whiskey glass in his hand, he raises it and smiles at me

my stomach is in knots

i want to scream for help and run

the other half of me wants to jump into his arms and submit

Barry gets out of the truck and walks around opening my door “c’mon, get out” i jump down and fix my dress and fix a smile in attempt to hide my mixed feelings

“you look nice, who’d you get dressed up for?” Rafe asks “nobody” i reply, he laughs “sexy little thing isn’t she?” he asks Barry, “yessir” he grins

i want to crawl inside my own skin

Rafe grabs me by the arm “let’s get inside” he looks at Barry “you comin? you’re not gonna want to miss this”

he brings me to the couch and sits me down, “what to do with you?” he ponders finishing his drink

“Rafe i want to go home” i whimper

“and you know what i want? a girlfriend that doesn’t dress like a slut and go to parties without me” he seethes “since you wanna act like a slut, take your clothes off, i’ll treat you like a slut” his eyes filled with fury

“i’m not your girlfriend anymore” i whisper

“what was that?” he cocks his head to the side

“nothing” i say

i stand up and slowly pull my dress over my head, my knees becoming weak, leaving me exposed in just my panties in front of him and Barry

“lay down on the couch” he demands, i obey “now touch yourself”

“Rafe please i-“ there’s no use in begging, i bring one hand down to my pussy and run it up and down my panties, the thought of them watching begins to turn me on no matter how hard i try to reject the feeling

“she’s sweet” Barry says licking his lips

“wait til you taste her” Rafe says deviously

their words go straight to my heat, i rub my clit in circles arching my back, trying not to let out a sound

“come here” i say holding my hand out to Rafe, my pussy aching for him

“you’re gonna finish yourself off first” he smirks

Barry adjusts himself clearly growing hard, Rafe watches me like a hawk not missing a beat

i pick up the pace now craving dick inside of me, i throw my head back and whimper coming closer to an orgasm, the band in my belly snaps and my legs start convulsing, i ride out my orgasm and when i’m finished i beg to be fucked “come here- please”

Rafe looks at Barry “try her out” he says patting him on the back

the look of fear on my face. Rafe would never let someone else look at me nevermind fuck me.

“since you wanna act like a slut..” he says shrugging his shoulders, then topping off his whiskey

i become embarrassed, im attracted to Barry but being on display is not something im used to

Barry gets comfortable in the chair and pats his lap, he undoes his belt and slides his pants down to his knees, his hard on is enormous even through his boxers

i try to contain my arousal and walk toward him, looking at Rafe for approval, he nods

i lower myself to my knees and pull Barry’s erection from his boxers, it fills my entire hand

“i ain’t even gotta ask to get my dick sucked, you got this one trained man” he laughs

Rafe walks behind me and manspreads on the couch enjoying every second of this

i seal my mouth on Barry, bobbing my head up and down while working my tongue inside “shhhit” he groans, saliva begins dripping out the sides of my mouth

i go to work on his swollen cock, his moans encouraging me to get the job done “that’s it baby” he takes a sharp breath in

“get up and sit on him, facing me” Rafe commands from behind

i rise from the floor, turn around, push my panties to the floor and kick them off

i slowly seat myself on Barry’s length, i gasp taking all of him inside my cunt

his hands reaching in front of me to grab my breasts, he holds onto them and starts pumping into me from below

i try to hold myself up on the arms of the chair while i’m staring directly into Rafe’s lust filled eyes

“ohhmygod- yes- fuck me-” i moan in between breaths

“how does she feel?” Rafe growls not taking his eyes off of me “like a million bucks country club” Barry replies while slamming his hips into my ass repeatedly

“flip her onto the chair and fuck her brains out” Rafe instructs

Barry pulls me off his lap and flips me around, my chest pushed into the chair and my ass in the air he slams into me showing no mercy

i can’t control the sounds coming from my mouth, moaning, whimpering, and screaming at the way i’m being used

Barry pulls out of me and releases on my ass leaving my pussy dripping “you like that shit huh?” he says rubbing my slit from behind “taste her” Rafe says, Barry sticks his fingers in his mouth savoring the taste of me “just like candy” he tells Rafe

my torso still on the chair and my knees on the floor i lay there weak, trying to control my breathing

Barry gets dressed and pours himself a glass of liquor, sitting in the other chair

“c’mon we’re not done, get up” Rafe says, i try to stand but my legs are weak “i think you broke her” he laughs looking at Barry “sorry man, she’s got great pussy” he says

Rafe walks over to me and wraps his hand around my throat, lifting me to my feet, he sloppily kisses me and without warning plummets two fingers inside of me causing me to scream

“who’s pussy is this?” he asks pushing deeper inside of me, “it’s yours” i choke out, his hand still tight around my wind pipe,

“say it again” he growls

“it’s yours Rafe, i’m all yours” i plead

his hand slips into my hair and he guides me to the couch by my head using me like a rag doll

he throws me down on my stomach then pulls my hips into the air

“look at you, you’re a fuckin mess” he smacks my pussy causing me to cry out “you like that?” he smacks it again, i wince in a mixture of pain and pleasure

Rafe pulls me up by the back of my head “open your mouth” i open and he sticks his fingers inside, i suck his fingers just like i would suck his cock, Rafe loves having his fingers in my mouth “dirty fuckin slut” he says

he removes his fingers and forces them into my tender vagina, he works his hand slowly like he’s dissecting my insides, i move my hips back and forth trying to fuck his hand my pussy screaming to be pounded

“she just can’t get enough huh?” Barry says “i told you she was a good one” Rafe smiles

his slides his warm fingers out of me and spits on my cunt, i feel it drip down to my clit “please-“ i look back at him

Rafe pulls his shorts and boxers down exposing his delicious throbbing cock, he’s leaking precum

i brace myself

he taps the back of my pussy with his dick a few times before sliding it in, i feel myself become full of him “i gonna fuck you like i hate you” he whispers

guttural screams escape my lips as he sinks deeper into my swollen used hole, he feels so good

he pushes my face into the couch “shut the fuck up and take it”

i turn my head to the side to catch my breath and see Barry sipping on his liquor enjoying every moment, i hold eye contact with him while i cry out

Rafe picks up the pace, the sound of our skin smacking engulfs the entire room

it all becomes too much, the overstimulation is extreme, i reach back trying to push him away

“i ain’t done” he growls grabbing both my arms and pinning them behind my back “i’m gonna fuck MY pussy as long as i want”

i’m screaming at this point, i can feel him in my stomach, a new sensation arises in my pussy, stronger then an orgasm “Rafe i- i can’t-“ and then i feel a release and a gush of liquid between my legs

“squirting on me like a dirty whore” he smacks my ass hard, “i fucking love it”

“please- please-“ i sob begging him to stop, my body convulsing, eyes rolling in the back of my head

Rafe slams into once more before cumming inside me, he pulls out and places a gentle kiss on my ass

my body goes limp and i lay flat on the couch, he pulls my hips back up and holds them there, “stay up til you soak all of me in”

i lay there defeated, used, and bruised

Rafe wipes the sweat from his brows and puts his pants back on, he walks over to the table and pours himself another glass of whiskey, clinking cups with Barry

they sit across from my numb body and watch me recover

“you’re such a good girl” Rafe praises “you’re never getting rid of me”

[straylightdream]

If you’re too shy

Seo Changbin x f.reader

college au

↳ After three months together Changbin still manages to surprise you often.

wc: 3.5k

warnings: unprotected sex, dirty talk, begging, oral (male receiving), oral fixation, size kink, breeding kink, a little bit of cockwarming, soft dom Changbin, dry humping, names such as: (baby, kitten, pretty)

an: I unexpectedly wrote a part two Open Mind. I absolutely love this couple and they inspired my college series. This is always loosely connected to other college skz stories called SSFW

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

Your day at school dragged on and after finishing a huge test you were excited to find your boyfriend waiting outside your class. You rush into his arms and he holds you close. There is nothing quite like his warm embrace. There is just something about him that feels right when he holds you. 

“Somebody missed me,” he says. You hadn’t seen him in two days because he was busy at work in the studio, and you had spent the last two days working on a huge essay that was due. This essay has left you exhausted and stressed out. Of course you missed your boyfriend. Nothing in the world sounded better than getting to spend time with him. 

“I didn’t miss you at all,” you joked before pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. 

“Ouch,” he releases you dramatically. 

“Do you want to hear me say, I desperately missed my boyfriend so much?” You love teasing him like this. It absolutely riles him up and what comes next in the bedroom is always fun. 

“Please stroke my ego,” he reaches down, taking your hand. 

“You only want me to stroke your ego?” 

Leaning forward his lips brush against your ear, “believe me I prefer you stroke my cock too, but we’re in public kitten.” A shiver runs down your spine. Pushing your thighs together you feel yourself growing wet at his dirty words.

Without saying another word he tugs on your hand pulling you down the hall. Things with Changbin are never dull. In the three months you’ve been dating you’ve fallen head over heels for him. You never know what to expect with him. One day he’s whispering the dirtiest things in your ear before bending you over the closest surface he can find, and the next he’s taking you out on a romantic date. With him you really get both sides of things. You won’t ever complain though, you love the duality of him. He’s the same way in bed, sometimes you have messy or rough sex and then there are times like your one month anniversary where Changbin filled your room with roses and proceed to make slow love to you on your bed. 

“Where are you taking me?” You’re curious where he’s leading you. 

“I was taking you to my apartment,” he leads you towards his car. 

“What are we doing at your place?” You hadn’t exactly made plans on what you were going to do. Changbin had texted you in the morning telling you he would pick you up from your last class of the day. 

“Hyunjin is gone for the day with Felix, and I’m attempting to get Minho and Angel to go on one of their ‘not a date’ dates.” You can’t help but smile at the mention of Changbin’s roommates that are clearly together even if they don’t realize it. 

“Shouldn’t we maybe leave them alone so they can have the apartment to themselves?” You know from Changbin has told you and sworn you to secrecy that Minho and Angel are having sex. 

“Believe me even if they stay in the apartment us being there won’t stop them from having sex. They’re really good at being sneaky and not loud.”

“Do they still not know you know?” 

“No and I’m not gonna tell them. I just want them to leave so we can fuck with peace and quiet,” his blunt statement makes you laugh. 

“We can go back to my place.”

“I'm pretty sure your roommate hates me. We aren’t exactly quiet.” 

“Fine, let's go to your place. Did you just pick me up from class just so we can have sex?” 

He stops in front of his car, releasing your hand. “No I didn’t pick you up just to have sex. I wanted to spend time with my girl and cuddle. Having sex is just a bonus.”

-

Walking into Changbin’s place he takes your bag and drops it off in his room before coming back to the living room where he left you. Minho peaked his head out the kitchen looking at you and waving. You and Changbin walked towards where his roommates were. Angel and Minho were in the kitchen talking about where they wanted to eat. Chan and his girlfriend get brought up a few times while you listen to them talk. 

Changbin walks up behind you wrapping his arms around your stomach resting his check on your shoulder. “So are you guys going out for the night?”

“Why?” Angel asked. 

“No reason was just curious.” Your boyfriend wasn’t being subtle at all. 

Minho arches his brow at Changbin, “Bin why do you want us to leave?”

Angel rolls her eyes letting you know she knows exactly why Changbin wants the place to himself. “Do you want the short answer or the long answer?” 

“Please don’t make him answer that,” you plead. Your boyfriend does a great job of saying things that make your face burn like the sun with embarrassment. 

“Angel, did you want to get dinner with Chan and Bambi?” Minho doesn’t push for any more answers from Changbin or you. “Chan mentioned them going out and asked if we wanted to tag along.”

“Yeah that works for me,” Angel smiles. “Bin, can we come back at midnight please?”

“Of course you can,” you speak up before your boyfriend can respond. 

The moment you’re alone in Changbin apartment he turns on the tv in the living room. He ordered take out and you sat on the couch comfortably enjoying time with your boyfriend. 

After your finished eating you cuddled up next to Changbin with your eyes glued to

The tv. Things started out innocent. You leaned against him as you were on another episode of Crash Landing On you. His hand rested on your thigh catching your attention. Leaning over he pressed his lips to yours for a quick kiss. 

The kiss is far from innocent from the beginning. He wastes no time pulling your body on top of him so you’re straddling his thighs. Strong hands roam your back as his lips move across your jaw. You think back to the countless times when Changbin would bring your study sessions to an end with you on his lap kissing you while you dry humped him. Out of instinct you roll your hips forward. He groans as your legging covered core brushes against his jean clad pelvis. You keep rolling your hips against his until you start to feel his straining erection against his jeans. 

“Someone is excited,” you smile, pulling away from his lips. 

“Oh kitten,” he groans. 

Getting off him without a word you walk off towards his bedroom. You know you have the apartment to yourself but you don’t want to risk one of his roommates randomly turning up. The last thing you want is for one of the three of them to see you naked in their living room. 

You don’t wait for him to follow you, as soon as you’re in his room you start removing your clothes. The moment he’s in the room he shuts his door and stares at you for a moment before he starts stripping away his own clothes. You’re both left standing there completely naked. 

“Sit on the edge of the bed please,” you say. 

Sitting on your knees between his legs you look up at him. The site of him naked in front of you is something you’ll never get over. His hand reaches out and he runs his thumb across your bottom lip. Your lips part and he slides his thumb into your both. The way he looks at you with lust filled eyes is enough to make you feel weak. 

“Kitten you’re so pretty,” he practically moans. Pulling his thumb from your mouth you lean in closer. Ever so slowly you lick the broad head of erection. The moan that passes his lips is music to your ears. Taking his length in your mouth you take him about half way before pulling away. Leaning back in to lick his length. 

“You have to say that,” you say between licks. 

“I don’t have to do anything,” he smiles. 

“I’m your girlfriend. Don’t you have to say nice things to me?” you tease. 

“I’m only saying things that are true,” he groans as you take his length as far as he’ll go into your mouth. “Baby everything about you is perfect”

A warm feeling takes over your body as you look at Changbin whose eyes are locked on yours. Your hands help with your technique. He is just long enough he doesn’t fully fit into your mouth. You’ve mastered the art of blowing your boyfriend and you know how to make him puddy in your hands. 

He moans your name as his stomach tightens letting you know if you don’t stop soon he’ll finish in your mouth. 

Pulling away releasing him from your mouth you wipe your mouth smiling at him. Pushing yourself off the ground, you stand between his legs, he grabs your ass pulling you closer. 

“You’re so perfect,” he groans. 

He stands up still holding you close to him. “Changbin, what do you think about going bare?” You had been thinking about this for the last couple of weeks. You’ve never trusted anyone like you trust him, and after hearing Bambi talk about Chan’s breeding kink you couldn’t lie it piqued your interest. 

“We’ve never done that,” he responds. 

“I’m on the pill and I think I would like to try that if it’s something you’re interested in.”

“I would love to know what it’s like to feel you completely bare.”

Leaning forward he presses his lips to yours. One hand rests on the side of your neck holding you close to him. This man is absolutely intoxicating and you can’t seem to get enough of him. Pulling away grinning he reaches out taking your breast in his hand. His thumb dragging across your pebbled nipple earning a moan from you.  

In the three months you and Changbin has been together you’ve had sex too many times to count, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get enough of him. Every time you're together it feels like a whole new experience. 

Laying on your back he has your left leg raised resting on his shoulder as he sits on his hunches. His bare length pushes into you, earning a gasp. One hand grips your hip. Closing your eyes you moan attempting to adjust to the stretching feeling. No matter how many times you do this the thickness of his cock always leaves you slightly sore at first. 

“Bin,” you moan, reaching for his hand. 

“Yes baby?” 

“You feel so good.” There aren’t enough compliments in the world you can give this man. The smirk he gives you when you compliment him always makes you smile. Your boyfriend is absolutely beautiful and everything about him is absolutely so sexy, and he’s aware he’s hot but he isn’t cocky. 

“Bin?” You moan with his first deep thrust. 

“Yes kitten?” 

“I want you close,” you reach for his hand. 

He stills and takes your leg off his shoulder. Spreading your legs more he moves so hand hovering over the top of you. He slowly thrust into you causing you to gasp. Reaching up your hand rests on his cheek. The look in his eyes aren’t the normal lust filled haze he gives while you’re having sex. There’s an admiration behind them this time. His hips push into yours at a slow but deep pace. Leaning up you press your lips to his for a searing kiss. 

One of your hands moves down his back resting on his butt. You pull him closer to you causing him to still be inside you. He doesn’t try thrust he just holds still looking down at you. 

“Please kiss me,” you whisper. 

His lips crush into yours and kisses like he needs you to breathe. Your lips move together as his tongue slides against yours. Your hands roam this beautiful bare back. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you moan as his lips kiss their way across your jaw. You could stay like this forever with him. The feeling of him snug inside you while he kisses you sends a warm feeling to your stomach. 

“My pretty girl knows just the right things to say to me.”

Ever so slowly he starts moving his hips. Your hands roam his back as he slowly picks up the pace. Your head rolls back moaning. 

With each slow thrust you feel his thick length hitting just the right spot inside you. With your right hand you reach for his hand. 

“Baby can’t seem to get enough of me,” he groans. 

“Can we change positions?” 

Leaning forward he presses a quick kiss to your lips. “How do you want it kitten?” He stills completely. 

“Can I ride you while you sit up against the headboard?”

Silently he follows your request. He moves so he is sitting with his back against the headboard. You move so you’re hovering over his length. Slowly you slide down his length earning a moan from him. Filled to the brim you sit on his thighs. You press your lips to his for a searing kiss as his hands massage your breast. You work at a slow pace rolling your hips against his. You don’t want rough or quick sex tonight. You want it slow and intense. Rolling your head back a loud moan passes your lips. 

“Thank god we’re home alone,” he says. His hands move to grip your sides to help move you up and down his length slowly. 

“Bin,” you whine. His lips are on your neck while his hands are anywhere they can reach. Your fingers are tangled in his hair holding him close to you. He feels everywhere all at once. His hands on your body and lips against your neck are driving you wild. 

“Pretty you sound so good,” he groans against your skin. Your fingers tighten in his hair. “Does my pretty girl need my fingers on you?” Changbin knows everything he needs to know about your body and knows that most of the time you need more stimulation than just his dick to find your sweet release. 

“Yes.”

His hand dips between your bodies and his fingers start making quick work at rubbing your sensitive clit. A loud gasp passes your lips as the coil in your stomach starts to tighten. His fingers continue their ministration. You rolled your hips up and down his length desperately trying to find your release he’s helping you chase. 

A warm wave washes over you as you find your release. You stop moving your hips moaning his name as your walls tug on his length. He nips at the sensitive skin on your neck. Your heart races as your walls contract, milking Changbin’s still very hard cock. 

“Baby can you lay on your back for me?” He asks. 

Your body feels like jello as you remove yourself from Changbin and lay down on the bed with your legs spread. Your high is still washing over you as Changbin settles between your legs. He thrust into you slowly at first before picking up his pace a little. You cling to his body holding him close to you as he tries to find his own release. He crashes his lips into yours muffling your moans.  

A few sloppy thrust lets you know he’s close to finding his own release. “Are you going to come inside me?” You ask, staring into his warm eyes. 

“Do you want to feel my cum inside you?” He groans. 

You nod your head desperately wanting to feel his release. 

“I’ll give it to you kitten,” with one particularly hard thrust he finds his release. He slowly thrust into you as he paints your walls white. His chest slowly heaves as his high washes over him. 

He pulls out of you and watches as his release slowly drips out of you. “I fully understand why Chan likes doing this,” he chuckles before hopping off the bed. He rushes across the hall to the bathroom and comes back with a warm washcloth. He cleaned up his release from your sensitive core. He tosses the cloth in his hamper before joining you back on bed. 

Laying in bed behind you with his body curled up close to yours. There something so intimate about the two of you laying like this after having sex.  Ever so gently he leans forward pressing his lips to your bare shoulder. 

“I love you,” his statement catches you completely off guard. 

Freezing in place your mind goes at a million miles an hour as you think about the three words he just said to you. “Excuse me what?” You aren’t sure if you heard him properly. 

You roll over and look at him absolutely confused on what is going on. 

“I love you,” he pulls back looking slightly hurt. 

“You love me?”

“Why does that sound crazy to you? I’ve been your boyfriend for three months? It’s rare that I sleep alone anymore and I’m with you almost every day.” 

“No one has ever said they love me.” You think back to your little relationships you’ve had but they have never led to someone saying they love you. 

“Well then I’m proud to be the first person to confess their love to you.”

“I love you too,” your voice is soft. Almost as if you’re afraid to say it out loud. “Is this what sex is like when want to confess you’re in love?”

“I wanted to tell you I loved you for the last two weeks. But today just felt right,” he presses his lips to your bare shoulder for a gentle kiss. “Do you know that Jisung told Honey he loved her after just a month together. I remember him telling me he thought he loved her and I thought he was crazy, and I saw you later that day and when I watched you working on assignments, there was something about the way you looked at me when I said your name that made me realize that I just didn’t like you. I realized then that I was falling for you hard. I fully understood what Chan felt when he looked at Bambi.”

His sweet words gave you butterflies. You can’t help but smile at his confession. “Have you ever been in love?”

“Do you want my honest answer?”

“I always want you to be honest.”

“When I was seventeen I thought I was in love with Bambi, but I realized it was just a crush. I knew she would never look at me the way she did Chan. I’ve never been the type of person to be someone’s boyfriend. So I guess I haven’t really been in love,” he rolls onto his back staring at the ceiling. You move so you’re laying on your side staring at him. His confession that he thought he might have loved his best friend when he was a teenager didn’t make you jealous or anything like. You were just happy he felt safe being honest with you. 

“Have you ever told anyone about Bambi?” 

“Oh god no. Chan was so desperately in love with her from the moment he met her, and she was crazy about him. I knew from the beginning even if I really did love her it didn't matter. I never told Jisung because I wouldn’t want him to be in the middle of something. I realized after prom when we went together even though I liked her, she was always going to love Chan more.”

Moving closer to him you rest your head on his chest. “Thank you for telling me that.”

“You aren’t upset are you?”

“Not at all. I appreciate that you trust me enough to be honest about you. I’m not jealous or upset you liked someone else, because you don’t love her. You love me and that’s all that matters,” you can’t help but smile at the fact he loves you. 

“I love you so much (Y/N).” He presses his lips to the top of your head. 

“I love you too Changbin.”

You lay there cuddling for a little while before Changbin pulls your body on top of his while he kisses you. “How long do you think we have until Minho and Angel are home?” He asks between kisses. 

“It’s 10:52.”

“That’s plenty of time to make you cum at least twice,” he says, earning a laugh from you. 

It’s not long before he is on your back moaning his name again. After midnight when his roommates are finally home and he’s worn you out completely you’re dressed in nothing but one of his shirts curled up close to him. You’re on the verge of passing out when he whispers, “I love you so damn much.” You fall asleep knowing you found the man you truly love. 

[uncouth-the-fifth]

pythia, a supernatural rewrite. bloody mary, rough draft.

read it on ao3.

words: 6k notes: hi y'all! yes, you read that chapter title right - this is a little unconventional, but since I've unfortunately shifted hyperfixations and have drifted away from SPN, I thought I would post what I have for the next part of pythia. since I'm moving into resident evil land, I'm not sure if I'm going to come back to this fic—but I absolutely didn't want to leave you guys empty-handed!! I'm so so sorry that this fic will go unfinished (for now), and I'm so grateful to those who were along for the ride with me. I have so much love for all the people who motivated me through writing this fic. all of you are beyond kind!! and I hope you enjoy this dose of pythia content, featuring some of my notes and process-work, lol. I only had a few heavy chunks of the beginning written, but the prose for this chap (ironically) started to get into the meat of what I really wrote this fic for—psychic bullshit between reader and Sam. It was just too plain juicy to not share!! All of my spn fics will remain up, but if you keep up with me, expect lots of Leon Kennedy bullshit and tomfoolery. Again - thank you so much for your endless love and support, I had so much fun writing what I could of season one!! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this unfinished chunk of silly/ansty Christmas drama :)

EAU CLAIRE, WISCONSIN - Dec 21st, evening.

Sam drops the stack of glossy, brand-new legal pads into his lap, and flashes his brother a plain smile. “Thanks, Dean. I needed more of these.” From your spot seated on the living room rug, you twist your rings and wait for Dean’s witty reply. With all those notes you’re always makin', Sammy, I’ll hafta buy you some for New Years, too. You wait for him to make a crack about the gift he got Sam, something about diaries or his brother’s girly handwriting.

Instead, Dean shrugs, “Well, then there ya go.”

Voila. And with that, the feeble threads you’d tried to braid into a proper Christmas are cut. Without a word, your Mom picks up the little wooden jewelry case the three of you had thrifted her and recedes into the dark hallways of the house. Dean peels himself out of his seat to clean up. Sam sighs, picking at the plastic seal around his legal pads. Hilariously, this all plays out while Paul McCartney chimes about what wonderful Christmastime he’s been having from the radio in your kitchen.

Technically, you hadn’t just been celebrating Christmas. No, you managed to completely bomb both Christmas and the sacred Winter Solstice sabbat that the Proctors had been celebrating for a bajillion fucking years. The special sabbat that would have a real spiritual effect on you for the next couple months.

You’d given it a good ol’ college try. First, you’d painstakingly picked out gifts for the boys and your Mom. Good ass gifts, too, that you’d been hiding in your duffle since summertime. Hell, you’d been looking for the Eagles album you bought for Dean in tape form for at least two years. (Cool, Dean had said, half alive in his armchair after your chupacabra hunt in Illinois. He was at the ugly front end of a cold. He’d sniffled, Don’t have this one.) And knowing that this would be Sam’s first Christmas without Jess—the one person who had given him any kind of good holiday when he was away from home—you’d poured extra love into his gift, too.

He’d been begging you to read Frankenstein since high school, and you’d dodged it because sometimes books that pushed too far into the “classics” category could lose you. Mary Shelley got a little wordy at times. But you were a big girl with a big brain, so you’d read the whole thing for Sam… and annotated the whole thing for Sam…

He’d taken one look at your labor of love and murmured, “Good. Glad you read it.”

…Yeah. You had half a mind to check if he’d been replaced by a clone, hearing that. Fifteen-year-old Sam would have melted into a babbling, ecstatic mess if someone had carefully combed through one of his favorite books and shared their thoughts on it with him. Bare minimum, you figured he’d at least enjoy having his own copy of Shelley’s work. All his other books had been lost in the fire.

But you’d given the book to a Sam who was twenty-two, not fifteen. Fine. People changed.

The boys being a collective bummer was something you could deal with. Sam was always sullen around the holidays, and you couldn’t exactly be mad at Dean for being exhausted after a stressful hunt. But your Mom…

Beth used to make Yule her bitch. When you were a kid, come December 1st, the Proctor House could easily have been the center of all Wicca celebrations in the world. If working retail during the holidays tested one’s love for festive music, then the non-stop winter songs bouncing off Beth’s vinyl player would’ve made Santa beg to hear something else. Every room would gush with the smell of evergreen branches and holly. Your family’s altar, the home of all the love and joy for the season, would be lush with offerings and presents. The candles you lit as a family to welcome the light of the new year would glow in a neat row—your little silver candle, your mother’s tall red one… and the biggest. Your Dad’s.

Now, your Dad’s candle was tucked away with the rest of the unused decorations in the attic. From your spot on the floor, you couldn’t help but stare at your piss-poor excuse for a family altar. Beth hadn’t “had the time” to find the table runner your great-grandmother had embroidered just for that space. The small bouquet of mistletoe you’d brought sat pathetically on the wide, barren surface, framed by your family’s dollar-store candles: silver for you, red for Mom, and twin green candles for the boys. 

It was stupid. Really, you shouldn’t have cared so much. You were almost twenty-five, and the older you got the less people cared about silly, trivial things like a single holiday out of the year. That was just a fact of life.

Still, an ugly ball of bitterness sat in your gut. She couldn’t have tried to decorate? Even out on the road, you’d still found ways to make today a little special for the people you loved. Did she really have such little strength left in her? You’d dragged the boys up to Wisconsin with you so your Mom didn’t have to be alone. Was it really that impossible, after eleven whole years without your Dad, to try and be happy?

Fuck this. Yule isn’t over yet. There’s still time for you to squeeze some life out of today, and you’re going to start straight at the source. You find your Mom in the kitchen, mindlessly swiping invisible crumbs off pristine counters. When she senses you paused behind her in the kitchen doorway, clutching in both hands the gift she got you this year, the radio suddenly needs to be toyed with. Then cleaned. There are gray strands in her hair that shine like tinsel in the low kitchen light.

“Hey,” you say, your voice bright and christmas-card perfect. “I don’t think I got to say thank you for the gift.” (You did. More than once already.) “It’s been a bit since I read this one.” The gift in question is your Dad’s second edition print of The Shining. It’s even older than you are, with soft, petal-thin pages that reek of that wonderful old book musk. Rolling the flexed and cracked paperback between your hands, your Gift automatically picks up the distant echo of the hands that had touched these pages when they were new.

When you were little, you’d always found it kind of strange that your Dad considered this book his favorite. He was a sweet, soft-spoken person, and the mental image of him indulging in uncensored horror novels didn’t mesh with the Ray preserved in your head. Having since grown up and read it for yourself, you understood that it was less about the gore of the Overlook and more about “the shine;” the array of psychic abilities that kept five-year-old Danny Torrance alive through the book.

Years of having book-club with Sam had trained you to form cultivated opinions about the stuff you read, but The Shining existed in a realm that made it hard for you to describe how you felt about it. See, you had Danny Torrance’s shine—on the same level, too, enough shine to power the decades of ghostly ballroom parties and mob conspiracies inside the Overlook for a century. Seeing your Gift put onto a page so nakedly and cinematically made you uncomfortable. Yet, feeling the weight of your father’s book in your hands, standing in the kitchen he hasn’t touched in a decade, you know that it must’ve comforted him. Back then, surrounded by a psychic mother-in-law, girlfriend, and daughter, it would've been impossible to survive without a little shine of his own. You’re sure that your Dad's Gift was faint and unimpressive next to the psychic blackholes of your Mom and Grandma. Just enough to know if you’d skinned your elbow or had a nightmare. On the days that you came home from school tear-streaked and ruddy-faced, Dad would be waiting on the porch with soup.

You can still feel the faint psychic imprint of one of his whiskery kisses on your face. You don’t have many vivid impressions of him left to feel; none that haven’t been rubbed again and again, like the hollow of a fingerprint smoothed into the face of a rock over time.

Your Mom gives a non-committal hum at your attempt at conversation. Not because she doesn’t care—you can feel how much she cares from across the room—but because she’s tired. Adult Tired, like when she’d turn down your pleas to play together as a kid. Not tonight, baby. Momma’s exhausted.

“Mom,” you say, sounding as glossy and clean as a brand-new cookie tin. You open your mouth to say more, maybe to start in on one of your long-winded book-rants that had everyone wondering where Sam had suddenly appeared from. You know the answer, but you ask anyway, “This was one of Dad’s favorite books, right? I vaguely remember him talking about the hedge animals.” Beth accidentally hits a button as she’s dragging a rag over the shiny front of the radio, forcing Paul McCartney to have yet another wonderful Christmastime. She doesn’t look at you.

“Yup. But you knew that already, honey.”

C’mon. Nothing? She won’t even throw you the smallest, most pathetic olive branch? A psychic battle occurs. You get so frustrated all at once that your throat closes up, and that frustration balloons out into your family kitchen like the expansion of a bomb. You push. There is no give. The bubbling stormcloud of grief and loss hanging around Mom is there, then it’s not. The side of the kitchen your mother stands on is suddenly a void of absolute nothingness, empty of any feeling whatsoever, good or bad. She’s cutting you off from reading her—and protecting herself from your explosive emotions, as per usual.

Beth keeps cleaning the radio, her back to you.

Your rage bubbles out of you all at once. One day! One day out of the entire fucking year, the day your Dad always made special, and she can’t even pull herself together for that. You know you should be a good daughter and empathize with the woman who made you, but you’ve been a good daughter about this since you were twelve years old. Eleven Yules have gone by since your Dad passed. Just for one measly moment, you want to talk about him like he’s not a corpse rotting in the living room.

And the worst part is that Mom knows that. She’s known you’ve felt that way all day, a slow-bubbling pot building to a boil across the room. The two of you can always feel each other. You’re the only two who can; she’s the only other radio tower that can receive your station in its purest quality, and yet she has the gall to shut all her signals down.

“Fine!” You burst out, making the conversation physical.

It should feel good to yell, really. After the slow, ungratifying day you’ve had, you’ve been a shaken soda bottle waiting to implode. Instead, since you’re the crazy person yelling at nothing for no reason in the kitchen, your anger booms out of you and fizzes out in the same breath like a faulty firework. Fine. Fuck all of this. If you can’t beat em’, join em’. If everyone’s determined to rot the day away, then you’ll go wallow in self-pity the Proctor-Winchester way, too. Merry fucking Christmas, and a happy fucking Yule.

There is no satisfying door to slam on your way out of the kitchen. You take a sharp right down the front hall, hoping to veer up the stairs and slam your feet down on every single step up to your room. If your Mom wants to live forever in the year your Dad died, by all means—you’ll even bring home your thirteen-year-old self and her childish tantrums, just for time-accurate ambiance. Sam’s standing frozen just outside the kitchen archway, and you catch his deer-in-headlights look as you go peeling around the corner. You’re still keyed up with enough lashing rage to spare, so seeing him, just as hollowed-out and not there as your Mom, only feeds your pyre.

As you get to work thoroughly stomping the staircase to death, you hear him go into the kitchen and ask Beth about soup for Dean’s sore throat.

Upstairs is even more painfully quiet. Through the floor, Paul McCartney muffles down to a cheery mumble. All old houses shift around a little, but yours settles like it's alive, clicking, creaking, swaying. You don’t look at the portraits of Proctor women up the stairwell. The dusty grandfather clock in the hall watches you with its stained glass face, and you’re so lost in your own head—

—and Dad’d be so pissed we didn’t decorate the altar or listen to the Tull Christmas album, he’d riot, he’d talk some sense into her—wouldn’t think any of this is stupid— —that you don’t hear it when it chimes. Muscle memory plants you right in front of your bedroom door. Having a good cry under the covers sounds like a perfect end to the night, right? And yet you stop. Your hand drops on the knob and stays there, unmoving. Maybe it’s your Gift, or good old-fashioned human instinct knowing when something in the home has been nudged two inches to the left, but the air in the hall tastes staler than usual. A draft? Your gaze is pulled all the way down to the opposite end of the hall, where the untouched, stately storage room door is ajar.

Your Mom probably left it open. Maybe she’d gone in there to hunt around for all the heirloom Yule decorations, only to rediscover Dad’s football memorabilia or Dad’s engraved cigarette case and go bolting out of the room. —everything’s different without him, Sam and Mom and Dean too. So am I. Everything’s twisted—without him— Still riding the whirlwind, you stomp from one end of the yellowing, starry zodiac carpet (Aries) to the other (Pisces), the floorboards squeaking under your weight. You push the door and it goes shuddering into the darkness. This was one of many rooms in the house that Mom had banished you from as a kid, mostly as a way to shoo you away from the hunting world. It’d given you this insatiable fascination with it as a result, but when you tug the chain to turn on the closest lamp, what it illuminates doesn’t come close to the spectacular stories you’d made up in your head.

It’s just a room. It has windows and shelves and old things, some from your childhood, some from your Mom’s. Some from even further back than that. The closest fascinating thing is a shiny gold blob poking out of your baby things, which turns out to be Sam’s eighth-grade mathlete trophy. You had no idea what possessed Mom to come up here so often. There was no way she wasn’t in here at least a couple times a week; the tall metal storage shelf where she immortalized your Dad’s things was never dusty, and yet the whole room reeked of rotting books and insulation. You shove the box with Sam’s trophy aside with your foot until it skids out of your way, and then send the heavy door shut behind you with a wall-shaking bang.

A flurry of dust hails down from the ceiling. You cough through the cloud, wandering in your blindness towards the neat row of plastic storage tubs labeled with your Dad’s name. Clothes. Misc. Books. Maybe that’s where Mom had gotten your new copy of The Shining from, halfway through one of her sacred meditations over Dad’s things. You drop a hand onto the cold lid of the tub. Nothing, not even the slightest psychic imprint, reaches back.

What is she even holding onto anymore? You try the clothes next. The rounded corners of this bin have been scuffed gray from how many times it’s been pulled off and then pushed back on its shelf, again and again. The case feels as lifeless to you as it would for anyone else, but you try your luck and slide it out onto the floor. It comes loose with a solid thud.

When you were old enough, Beth would sometimes send you up into this room to grab things (spell ingredients, books you didn’t keep downstairs). You would run full-tilt right up until you hit the storage room door, then pass inside like a stranger in a dangerous realm, watching where you stepped and always, always keeping your Dad’s shelf in the corner of your eye. On brave days you would pick up his silvery cigarette case and roll it between your palms. It grew harder and harder to feel him each time, the ghost of him whittled down like a rock made round by the current of a river.

When you crack off the lid, you expect some kind of smell. You don’t remember what he smelled like, but you have a few guesses—cheap, vanilla-sweet aftershave, or maybe the woody stale smell of cigarette smoke you know you shouldn’t love. Maybe both. It doesn’t really matter. The neatly folded stacks of your Dad’s old shirts and jackets don’t smell like a damn thing. You dip your face into a holey band-shirt with the sleeves scissored off, but all that comes back to you is the rotten smell of dusty insulation. He’s here—he’s right here in front of you, right in your fucking hands, and yet the whole world is dead of him. You can’t sense even a sliver of him left.

The same old reservoir of despair pushes and pushes at your composure, wiggling through your cracks, widening them with a hundred thousand tons of pressure bearing down on you a minute. It is a day by day task to handle the reservoir. You like to think you’re good at handling it, at patching the cracks as they come and letting them breathe when the moment calls for it. But when you lift your face from the bin, the leak springs—really, genuinely springs, like it hasn’t in years.

You fall back onto your haunches, swallowing back sudden stinging tears. The bin and its askew lid go shrieking back onto the shelf with a lash of your foot.

-

The music downstairs stops. You can’t tell how long it’s been.

When his death was fresh, and you were stuck deep, deep within the reservoir, you’d wondered if it would always feel this way. It got easier, right? And in many ways it had—on most days you could talk about your Dad without it hurting, letting the dam’s water run. The battle was still there, but it was a burden you were proud to carry if it meant his memory lived on in you. He would want you to be happy, your Mom used to urge. So you gave being happy your best shot, loving and giving as much as you could.

That’s what frustrated you so endlessly about your Mom. She’d been right; your Dad would’ve wanted the two of you to move on, and yet she still entombed herself in the bottom of her reservoir far too often. There was no release, no acceptance with her. The dark part of you that wanted to pass blame wondered if this was all because of John, and how well Winchester grief happened to mingle with a Proctor’s. How would your mother’s life be different, if the evil that’d taken Dad hadn’t been put down a week later? Would she be just as hellbent? With your knees sore from pressing into the floor, you knew the answer. You knew if the thing that’d taken Sam or Dean from you was right in front of you, you’d chase it until you were in your own grave. You knew that even after it was dead, you would be digging your nails into the backseat of the Impala and clawing for every psychic molecule of them left in the leather.

And that’s what scared you—was she just going to be chasing Dad forever, til’ there wasn’t a wisp of him left in the world to feel? 

Something dawns on you, thudding through your mind like a rock dropped down a chute. With limp hands, you slide The Shining towards you on the worn wood floor, part the pages with your thumbs, and press your nose into the binding. There’s the smoky, earthy scent of old paper first… then something just underneath the surface that no one but you and your Mom can pick up.

Old books. Yes. Yes, that’s what Dad had smelled like.

-

You’re seated on the floor of the storage room, back pressed to one of the ancient metal shelves holding up your gramma’s VCR collection, when a blot of the future is tossed at you. Cheap deodorant and lemon cough drops.

Around a minute later, the stairs beyond the door squeak under someone’s weight. Even without the roulette glimpse of the future, you can tell by the footfalls who it is. Heavy knuckles rap the door and come straight in without waiting for an answer. Behind him, the silence of the rest of the house is even heavier.

You try to sound like a reasonable adult, but the mopey teenager slips out anyway. “Thought you were sick, Dean.”

He artfully dodges your point. (Dean is, after all, a master of the craft.) You don’t look back at him, but the lemon cough-drops glimpse you got of him creates a clear picture: Dean’s whole body listing into the door frame, one hand on the knob, his face lacking its usual color. His cheeks have graduated from stubbly to scruffy, neglected. “Hey,” he says. It’s the, okay, you’re done cooling down, let’s have a grown-up conversation kind of hello.

You don’t know what to say back. You’re not sure if you can have any kind of conversation right now.

Dean rolls with it, trying to decide if this silence is begging for a subject change or a heart-to-heart. You’re not sure what he goes for when he says, “I had an idea.” “Did it hurt?” You joke. Jokes you can do.

There’s his opening. After a beat, you’re—

—fucking lobbed with a foam football. Like you’re fucking twelve. Dean’s throw arcs straight towards your head and bounces clean off the top, a perfect spiral. You yelp in outrage, and before you can think you’re following where the stupid ball went so you can clock him right in the face with it. Asshole. It loop-de-loops on the floor around an old dining chair, and you clamber on your knees to fish for it.

Just when you get the toy in your hands and you’re about to demolish him with it, Dean ducks behind the doorway, chuckling, “Woah! No face shots! You wouldn’t bash a poor, sick guy’s face in, would’ja?”

God. You can’t fucking believe him. If anyone else did that…

You lower your hackles and drop the foam toy into a basket, far out of reach of congested troublemakers. When his shining eyes appear in the slit of the doorway again, your cheeks are aching with an impossible smile. “You’re lucky it’s Christmas, loser. What is it?”

Dean hesitates a moment more, just in case you’ve got something else to throw at him, then joins you in the storage room with the evil little oily smile you love. The same dust cloud that got you earlier descends on him in a rough coughing fit, but this lets him get a good look at the little mess you’ve made: the book on the floor, your Dad’s things open and askew. When he clears his throat for the last time, he looks pained.

For your sake, you pretend it’s an empathetic kind of pained. And you know that’s a part of it—Dean doesn’t enjoy seeing you and your Mom like this. But it’s an unfortunate fact of your life that you will have four times as much context for him than he will ever have for you. Just breathing the same dusty air as him, you know he’s been nursing a sinus headache since Monday, one that’s made his head feel like it’s chock-full of stuffing, and that Sam made him canned chicken noodle soup—and at first he felt a little smug making Sam play nurse, until he stewed on it more and—

—hate it when he gives me that dead-eyed look, like he can’t even pretend to care anymore. Like he’s just dragging himself through this for our sake. Poor kid scares the shit outta me. Is this how it’s always gonna be? Sammy aching over her, night after night after night—

You know just touching the bins holding your Dad’s things that on a icy February afternoon in 1994, fifteen-year-old Dean had picked up the plastic tubs for your Mom from the store.

So when he gives you that pained look, you know it’s part-concern, part-fear. If this is what you look like eleven years after your Dad’s passing… if John never comes home from his hunting trip, is this what Dean will become? The loyal son, waiting and waiting on that porch for a man who would never come home? 

Your whole life, you’ve felt like you were becoming more and more like Dean; lately, it feels like he’s becoming so much like you. Your last four years on the road together had slowly but surely melded you together.

“Okay, so, Yule’s a fire festival, right?” Dean grasps around in his memory for the yearly history lesson your Mom gives about the Wicca calendar. “Uh, we lit candles… I thought about burning Beth’s Muppet Christmas CD with my lighter a couple times. That’s about all the fiery, burny-stuff we did today.”

“I love the Muppets Christmas album,” you pout.

“After the millionth partridge in John Denver’s goddamn pear tree, you’d change your mind,” Dean swears. “But I was thinkin’—we got the firepit in the backyard, marshmallows, and I think I could put together some vodka shots. Then we can blow em' out and eat em' with the s'mores.” Your eyebrows raise. Only he, of all people, could take your sacred family traditions and twist them into such a wonderful, stupid-ass thing. Maybe it’s ridiculous, but… there is chocolate and graham crackers downstairs… and with how cold it is outside, a fire would be perfect… It’s the best blend of weird Proctor-Winchester traditions you need to save Christmas and Yule. Dean takes your silence as glowing awe. “Exactly. I told you, I'm a fuckin' genius. Helluva way to start the wiccan year, right? You in?”

You’re well aware that this is an elaborate plan to coax you away from your moping. Still, it’s just too Dean to turn down. “...Hell yeah.”

At first R hopes that it’s just her and Dean, and that Sam and Beth keep their grief to themselves. But then she realizes how cruel and selfish she’s been—everyone grieves in their own way, and just because she works through it by talking about it doesn’t mean it will work for everyone. It’s not good that Beth is holding on so tightly to her loss, but that doesn’t mean R wants to leave them out.

Lead this into a touch of psychic!Dean and how he has a teeny tiny second sense for what she needs, just like her Dad did. Just enough shine to get by.

R and Dean come downstairs and invite Sam and Beth to their campfire 😀

Or, at the very least, all the psychic happenings in the house echoing between them; if Dean's sharper instincts were as psychically heavy as a shadow falling on grass, then Sam's Static was six feet of snow in an arctic blizzard.

It tingles all the way up to your shoulder when Sam touches you. And that, oh, that was a whole new can of worms. As they get dressed for the snow outside and assemble the s'mores and flaming shots, you try not to head down that train of thought again.

Every time you’ve glanced at Sam these past few weeks, you’d been unable to hide from what you’d sensed there—from what you’d seen in the demon, and what you now knew to be completely and utterly true after reading its mind.

Sam had It. The Gift, the Shining, whatever the fuck you wanted to call it. Not the vague imprint of psychic-ness from loving one or sharing the Impala with one for four years; full-on, unlatched, REDRUM, I-saw-it-before-it-happened psychic abilities. In the weeks you'd had to sit with that revelation, you'd poked carefully at Sam from afar. Obviously, you knew what a fucking psychic felt like. The five-year-old Sam who'd cut Dean's gum out of your hair had not been psychic. Yet this Sam, twenty-two with three-fourths of an ivy league law degree under his belt, was as psychic as a fucking—well. You. He was just as psychic as you.

Without even a sliver of the same control or even understanding of—of what he had, yes, but you were confident that if Sam was pushed, he could reach into your mind just as easily as you could reach into his. There had been a shift, then. At six, having gum cut out of your hair, you had been decidedly less psychic than you were at twenty-four. So Sam had gone through the Proctor Rite Of Passage; some terrible moment had cut him deep, deep enough to pull a new kind of blood to the surface. After Jessica, he had been... yeah.

It was fucking crazy. And yet it also slotted perfectly into some of the weirder things you understood about Sam; about who he was now and the vague, strobing flashes you got of his future. It freaked you the fuck out. Did Sam know? Did anyone know, besides you? Had your Mom recognized that spark in Sam, the same way she'd seen it in you? Had John?

And the plain existence of the Gift in Sam begged the question—why? Had he just happened to drop from the tree as a different kind of apple? Or was this something you could trace back to his mother, the same way it traced back to yours? Had Mary…?

The implications of that took pretty much everything you understood about Sam and Dean’s life, lined it up on the chopping block, and cleaved it in two. Needless to say, thinking about it made you sick. How could you even begin to bring this up to them?

You cursed your abilities with all you had. There were nights when you sat on the bathroom floor, wishing you could dig in with your nails and rip out whatever had put It in your head. Never in a billion fucking years would you have wished It upon anyone else; especially not Sam, good, selfless, wonderful Sam, who already ached so deeply for other people. Seeing their future, too? And even more often, seeing it and being helpless to change it?

He used to cry over squashed spiders as a kid. You'd felt a whole lot more than just spiders die.

…Beside that shuddering horror was another, far more selfish feeling. As scary as the implications could be, when you thought less about the Winchester family and more about your relationship with Sam, you were… excited. Relieved, even.

There were only four people in the entire world that you could share your Gift with. One of them has been six feet under for over a decade. Your Gift was a clingy, possessive creature, too. It was maybe two steps shy of being an eldritch horror. It poked through Dean’s dreams when you slept beside him, sucking them up like cigarette smoke. It breathed down Sam’s neck wherever he went. If you wanted, no one could lie to you—all punchlines and stories were spoiled for you, you knew when people found you annoying or pretty or stupid. If that particular Proctor gene had skipped you, then maybe you’d be able to form relationships with people where you didn’t immediately, intrinsically understand who they were and why. Dean would say, You need a drink. You would know without asking that he meant, You scare the ever-living hell out of me n’ I know I can’t hide it from you. Fucking hell, kid, I wish I could.

You knew you were a freak. The tiny human vessel for the lashing, bubbling, soul-melting, cosmic weight of a star about to bloom into a black hole. Only your mom would ever understand what it felt like to exist on the fringe of time, between the exhaustive influence of the past and the vast, spotty expanse of the future. You were a tool to men like John; an anomaly for men like Bobby; and a responsibility to men like Dean. 

But Sam… Your best friend Sam, he’d always tried to understand. Maybe he’d never fully get it, but the point was that he tried to. You remembered sitting with him on the curb outside your old high school, the concrete thrumming with music from the junior prom you’d both left behind inside.

How either of you had gotten dates was a miracle. You, the class weird-freak-emo punchline, and Sam, on his fourth round being the new kid that year, were two peas in a pod. Your date had never picked you up; Sam’s had escaped with her friends long before their first dance. Neither of you were very broken up about it.

The future had sprawled in front of you that night as clear as could be. You must've sat and talked on the curb for three straight hours, pressed together at the hip with Sam’s blazer around your shivering arms.

He was always beautiful in the boy-next-door kind of way, dimples popping with every good smile and freckles rising out of the too-short sleeves of his button-up. But that night he’d been fucking Helen of Troy, and the roar of the past and future slowed to a halt around him. 

Do you really see the future all the time? Every second? Sam had curiously tilted his head, sending a gleaming swish of chocolatey hair out of his eyes.

Swallowing hard, you’d hesitated, Not every second. But a lot, yes.

Again, the head tilt, then the swish. His gaze was innocent and intrigued. No existential dread, no sweeping sense of fear. Just plain curiosity. Not even morbid curiosity. Sam had asked, What about right now?

Sam’s cologne—oh god, his cologne—was steaming off his borrowed jacket and floating around your head in a wonderful rosy fog. You’d poked at the future. Sometimes things came back, sometimes they didn’t. That night, the future had come back tasting like Sam’s vanilla chapstick and junior prom punch, and your face had gone up in flames just sensing it. He’d waited for an answer. You’d blurted out the plain truth: In a minute or two, you’re gonna kiss me.

This kind of absolute, unshakable certainty about the future had made other hunters’ blood run cold. You’d braced yourself for Sam’s displeasure or worse, his fear. But instead, there were those dimples again, and Sam had the gall to bat his lashes at you and delightedly ask, Really? That’s what the magic eight ball has to say?

His big hand had dropped onto your knee and you’d squeaked out a shrill, Signs point to yes!

Sam loved the stupid magic eight-ball joke. You could feel him smiling about it as he kissed you, kissed you, hand-on-knee, his face tipping down to yours, the shitty school punch staining his lips as the two of you connected. At fifteen and sixteen respectively, this was the first kissing that either of you had ever done. It’d been wetter and warmer than you’d expected, and Sam’s vanilla chapstick had left the slightest print on your mouth, one that your tongue swiped over obsessively for the next month. Your Gift had chased him for weeks after that, silently and invisibly swarming him every time he entered a room.

Back then, your mind had been on the Curse. But now, you thought about what had led to the kiss in the first place. Sam hadn’t kissed you on a night when your Gift had been crammed down deep where it could bother nobody but you. He’d instead chosen the precise moment where your Gift was most raw, one of Its fingers coming down from the sky to press against the pulse of the future. It was small, but at a time in your life when you’d wanted to claw your Gift out with your bare hands, Sam had gotten the smallest glimpse of It and had fallen in love.

You couldn’t help but see this thing inside him, his Static, and feel the exact same way. His powers were twisted and unavoidably demonic, and yet you kind of loved them. It made perfect sense to you. No one really understood you like Sam did. Now, it's clear why.

-

tags: @samssluttybangs @cookiemumster1 @lacilou @cevans-winchester @leigh70 @seraphimluxe @emily-roberts @emme-looou @aloneatpeace @williamstop @ornella0910 @chaoticshepardplaid @dakota-dream @lcvecstiel @goghkiss @spnexploration @stoneyggirl2 @urm0mmmbbg @mulattomoon @poeticsorcery @deansapplepie @rennydenny @babydollfoster @badlandsbrunette @hallecarey1 @pplanetcaravan @notanotherthembo

[toon-topaz]

HIII so basically i am obsessed with your vampire if. I've never even had a specific fixation on vampires lol but i LOVE the idea of giving subaru even more reason to be paranoid of the people around him!!! :D ALSO ALSO the trauma of being killed by vampires?? beings he idolises?? Something else he'll probably have a breakdown about yay!!! ^^ ANYWAY if you don't mind me asking how do you think him being human would affect his relationships with others who know/don't know?? Like in canon he's already an incomprehensible weirdo but now that he's ACTIVELY trying to hide something do those not in the know suspect/distrust him even more?? For those that DO know how do they feel about it?? Do they have to like. Actively cover up for him when he slips up?? Does the shared secret bring them closer?? e.g., in Pristella haha what do you mean its suspicious that you've never seen Natsuki eat?? Now that i think about it since Emilia's been established as a subpar liar its probably Otto who has to save Subarus human ass lol assuming he's eventually told as a part of his camp. Sorry for the uncomfortably detailed ask lmao ur au just grabbed me by the throat and wouldn't let go!!

Oh please don't apologize, I am absolutely delighted to be getting interest in my silly little au :D

I’ll try my best to answer all your questions but feel free to ask more or just throw in some ideas of your own hehe, either in reblogs or DMs I don’t mind.

So yes absolutely he will be having many breakdowns about it on top of your usual “stuck in a timeloop of death” breakdowns lol. He learns very quick why being in a world full of vampires is absolutely not fun, and to be fair he did sort of assume he’d get turned at some point and get to live as one. Alas, he’s simply too fragile to withstand the process, if he even gets that far before just dying of blood loss. He’s very tasty.

His relationships with everyone are made even more complex than they already are by the fact that they could straight up kill him if they pick him up wrong. He has to walk on eggshells and he hates it, and so do they. He’s trying so hard to be a tough masculine man like his father, hell he likes being all rough and tumble and play fighting and all that, but he just can’t. Back home he was at least fairly fit and resilient but here, in comparison to everyone else (even the village children)? He feels utterly worthless, and it absolutely starts to skew his sense of self. Was he ever even that athletic? Has he always been so breakable, or is it just that everyone here is superhuman? It’s not even limited to just Reinhard or Garfiel anymore, it’s everyone, including random thugs. The malnutrition from a lack of a balanced diet in the first few months aren’t helping his physical state, nor is the insomnia.

It isn’t helped by the fact that after just a couple loops, he’s legitimately quite afraid of his friends and enemies alike. He doesn’t hold a candle to them, and if any of them were so inclined to harm him, if they suddenly became hostile (he’s carrying a LOT of miasma, AND his human blood is like ambrosia to pretty much every vampire), there would be quite literally nothing he could do to stop him. And the only failsafe he has is rewinding time a bit to try and stop whatever happened from happening this time.

His developing brain is pretty much fucked, because while he’s terrified of his friends he still loves them all so very much, even the ones who have actually killed, maimed, tortured and/or eaten him. The idea of love in his mind goes hand in hand with fear and pain, and there’s no separating it at this point, which leaves him at once incredibly wary and paranoid, and paradoxically very susceptible to manipulation. He can’t hold it against them, if they get a whiff of his blood they can’t help it, no matter how many nights he spends awake and trembling under his covers. The only one he doesn’t fear like this is Beatrice, because she isn’t a vampire. Once they form their contract he at least has someone to hold onto and keep an eye on the door for him. Beatrice swears she won’t let anything get him in his sleep, and she means it.

The one boon all this has given him, if you can call it that, is that it’s turned him into a VERY good liar. He’s much better at improvising a cover story than his canon counterpart, even able to keep track of multiple lies at once. He allows himself to be a bit more open with his own camp, who all are informed eventually, and with a little bit of help from resident fraud expert Otto, he’s able to have a fully crafted and rehearsed backstory, paperwork and all. He’s only this weak because he’s afflicted with a chronic sickness that stunts his vampiric powers. Yes, it’s permanent, it’s a family curse. Don’t worry about how there’s no records of such a disease existing outside of this one certificate that definitely wasn’t forged.

The constant lying is isolating, but at least this secret is one he keeps on purpose, for a very good reason. At least it’s not something he physically cannot talk about lest he and his loved ones be violently punished, like that other thing. Thanks Satella.

As for how everyone else feels about this, I’ve mostly detailed it in that other post (that I have a followup reblog to in the works I promise), I can link it in the replies if you haven’t seen it.

The whole Priestella thing would be VERY funny though, and by funny I mean horrifying, because these damned Archbishops are even scarier now. I haven’t yet thought about how Dragon’s Blood would affect him differently but man it sure is fun to think about.

Anyways yea that’s my brain dump for now uwu, hope you enjoyed and again, don’t be afraid to start a conversation I love to chat

[misslavenderlady]

Love at First Bite pt. 2💞

David/Female!OC & Male!OC/Female!OC

Summary: Sis can't stop thinking about the adorable redheaded waiter that treated her like the queen she is. Once she and the pack get to know him a little better, he'll see them for what they truly are~

This was inspired by @ghoulgeousimmaculate and her characters from the series Party the Pain Away and the various fics that take place afterwards. Ghoulie and I discussed the possibility of having another boy join the coven after so many girls were brought in. Please read part 1 if you haven't yet!

WARNINGS: Fic contains mentions of fear, emotional manipulation, power dynamics, toxic relationship dynamics, PDA, mentions of blood/murder, sex and alcohol. This has references to Ghoulie's stuff, and takes place in the modern world, not 1987. Part 3 HERE

"You're serious?" 

"Absolutely! You should have seen him, hun. He was the cutest thing I've ever laid eyes on"

It gave Gem quite a surprise to see her sister bride in such a cheery mood. After the last few difficult months for the pack, she had been worried about Sis and her psyche facing permanent damage. Becoming a vampire came with its own mental and physical tolls. What Cyrus had put them all through was an entirely new level of suffering.

And yet, here she was. All doe-eyed and sappy like a schoolgirl with a crush. The happiest she had been since her resurrection. Usually only being with her babies made Sis act like herself again. This human boy had to be pretty special.

"And you don't want to bring him over for a fuck and a meal?"

"Surprisingly, I don't. At least….not right now," Sis explained. She smiled to herself as she fell back onto the couch, putting her feet up on Gem's lap to relax. "I dunno, he was just such a sweet guy. Genuine, polite, doting. You don't see many boys like that anymore." 

Gem smirked, rubbing her queen's legs as she listened to the story. Seeing her in such a good mood had Gem feel quite pleased as well. It made her quite curious as to what potential could be in a human. 

"Well, we are due for a girl's night out. How about we ask the boys to watch the babies and then you, me, Babydoll and Red go out for some fun," Gem proposed. "You can introduce us to the human."

The mere idea made Sis' eyes sparkle in delight. She was already excited to pick out her outfit for such a special occasion. Something truly special for a well-deserved night of fun.

Oliver's shift honestly could have been better that night. He was out of the zone. Forgetting to put in a large order, giving three different tables the wrong drinks, and getting yelled at by an elderly couple for having the audacity to forget their senior discount. He felt so clumsy and careless. It was rather embarrassing. 

What didn't help was that his coworkers were noticing. They had been in the game long enough to recognize when one of their fellow servers was having a rough night. 

"Hey Ollie!" one server greeted him, making small talk while punching in an order. "You feeling alright? Need a smoke break?"

"No thank you, I don't smoke," Oliver explained as he tried to organize a messy stack of menus. "And I'm fine. I just…my mind hasn't been where I want it to be lately. I'm not usually like this, I swear."

The server smiled and gave Oliver a friendly pat on the back. He definitely had nights like that too. 

"Something on your mind?"

"Well….someone actually."

Oliver knew exactly what was making him trip over himself and act like his head was in the clouds. 

Sis. He could not stop thinking about her. Though he was grateful for her generosity when she paid him a large enough tip to pay his rent that month, that wasn't at all the reason he had such a deep infatuation. 

She had this magic to her. Like an aura of true beauty. Though her curves and her flawless looks definitely showed how stunning she was on the outside, Oliver had a deep feeling that there was something truly remarkable about her on the inside too. 

Growing up, he was taught that you could learn a lot about a person just by how they treated a stranger. Especially if that stranger was a poor, struggling service worker. The world wasn't always kind to people who had a difficult life. 

He didn't know what it was about her, but he just had a feeling she understood him. That she knew compassion could go a long way.

"Well, Romeo, you might wanna get your head back in the game," the server interrupted his thoughts. "You got company."

"Salve signore! Right this way!"

Giuseppe had welcomed a group of ladies into the restaurant, ushering them to the back area just as he did the other night for David and Sis. 

And speaking of which. The lady at the head of the pack was a familiar one. It was her. 

Sis.

Once again she was all glammed up from head to toe, though instead of being out on a date with her husband, she seemed to be enjoying a girls' night out. The three other ladies that walked past the curtain were all quite stunning in their own ways, but he couldn’t take his eye off of Sis. 

His staring must not have been as subtle as he hoped it would be, because while the other girls made their way to the back, Sis stopped in her tracks, glancing his way. Oliver stood as still as a statue, not sure exactly what to do in terms of movement. 

Thankfully, he didn't have to stay like that for very long. To his utter joy, a smile formed across her beautiful face, showing off her perfect pearly whites. Sis crooked her finger, beckoning him in a come hither motion before disappearing behind the dark curtain. To say she enchanted Oliver was quite an understatement. 

Instead of standing around, Oliver hustled to get enough silverware and menus for four ladies. He'd never been more eager to work in his life. 

"Hello again~" Sis greeted Oliver with a purr as he entered the private area. "I was hoping you'd be here again tonight."

"Oh? You were?" Oliver asked, feeling his heartbeat ramp up in speed. "Well, I'm really glad to see you again too, Miss!"

The gaggle of ladies all shared a round of playful giggling, like schoolgirls with a secret. 

"Awww! You weren't kidding! He's a total sweetie pie!" a fellow redhead chirped. 

"So you're the famous Oliver," a brunette with green eyes commented. "Sis has told us so much about you!"

Oliver would be lying if he said he wasn't flattered by that. His stomach was practically doing backflips with the amount of butterflies he was feeling. He wasn't used to such compliments. 

"O-Oh! Well, I'm very honored," he smiled. "It's really nice to meet you all!"

His words trailed off after his greeting. He wasn't sure how to get the right words out in order to ask for their names as well, but they all seemed to get the hint as to what he wanted to say.

"Gem."

"Red."

"Babydoll!"

They all have such different names. Very….creative, Oliver thought to himself. It must be a California thing!

He finally felt comfortable enough to perform his job properly once the introductions were done. As per Sis' request, he brought back the same brand of Chardonnay he got her the last time she was there. This time, he was determined not to spill any on their gorgeous outfits. When each glass was equally filled, the girls all clinked their drinks to share a toast. 

Oliver put in the same energy when he took their orders. Each lady knew exactly what they wanted, and they cooed at him to hurry back since they'd miss him. It put quite a dopey smile on his boyish face. 

Little did he know that his coworkers were watching him with a look of dread in the corners of the restaurant. They all knew the secrets that Sis and her lovers shared. Oliver wasn't ready to see the deadlier side of the brown-eyed beauty. 

"You really are too good to us, Ollie," Sis complimented the redhead boy when he set all their entrees down. Even with a table completely covered in the finest Italian cuisine imaginable, she kept her gaze fully locked on him. 

Almost like he was the one she found to be the most delicious. 

"It's nothing, really! I'm just happy to make up for my wine snafu from last time." 

"Speaking of wine," Gem spoke up, taking Sis' chin in between her manicured figures and tilting them in her own direction. "I wanna see if I can taste the Chardonnay on your lips, hun~"

Oliver only got to ponder what she meant for a mere second before getting a shocking answer. Gem pulled her into a deep kiss, moaning softly as both pairs of plush lips pressed together. Without much influence, Sis immediately melted into it, smiling and wrapping her arms around her lady friend. 

His green eyes were practically bulging out of his head as the two of them began passionately making out just a mere foot in front of him. Oliver turned towards Red and Babydoll to see if they were just as surprised, but found instead they were looking at him as if he were the odd one. They raised their eyebrows up at him, curious at his gawking. 

Perhaps it wasn’t the right time to stick around and just stare with an open mouth like a codfish.

“Y-You ladies enjoy! I’ll be back later!”

Oliver practically kicked up dust behind him from how fast he got out of the private dining section. He had already seen Sis get rather intimate in the restaurant already. But he hadn’t expected to see it between her and someone other than her husband. 

Flashbacks of the last time when she made flirty gestures at him while literally riding David were coming back to him. He didn’t understand the behavior fully, but what he was absolutely certain about was how stunning she was. So confident, so beautiful, always knowing exactly what she wanted, yet still showing gratitude when she got it. 

It made him ever so curious about whether he truly had a chance with a woman like that. Compared to people like David and Gem? Fat chance, he thought to himself. 

Time passed by, and the night was finally winding down. Oliver and his coworkers had split their tips, cleaned up the restaurant, and helped set up for what they needed the next day. In between his tasks, he had stopped in to check on Sis and her friends. They had long since cleared their plates and finished the last sips in their glasses. Yet they seemed to want to stay a bit longer and enjoy some girl time.

So long as it was okay with Giuseppe, Oliver let them be. 

By the time everyone else had clocked out and left, he popped his head in one last time to check on them. To his surprise, the three beauties that had come along for the night had already made their leave at some point earlier while he was cleaning up. The one that remained was Sis, sitting pretty in the booth with her fingers intertwined, allowing her chin a place to rest. 

She was smiling at him again, a twinkle in her eye as she gestured to the chair placed across from her.

“Care to help me finish off this bottle?” she asked. There wasn’t much left in the second bottle of Chardonnay he had delivered earlier that night, but it was just enough for the two of them to have a little taste. Half a drink wouldn’t kill him. 

“Where are the others?” he casually asked as he sat down.

“Oh, they’re outside. Just having a smoke and texting the hubbies.”

Hearing her say that reminded Oliver of David once again. He really wasn’t one to pry, but the curiosity to ask about what kind of relationship Sis had with them all was still there. He would have kept his mouth shut about it if she hadn’t seemed to read his mind on her own. 

She pulled her phone out from her purse, maneuvering around the screen until she found what she wanted. Flipping the device around, Sis showed him some pictures of her with various people. Some he recognized, some were unfamiliar faces.

“In case you were wondering, I’m polyamorous. We all are,” she explained. “You’ve met David already. Those three boys are my other husbands. Marko, Dwayne and Paul.”

I didn’t even know you could be married to multiple people in California, Oliver thought to himself. In the first picture, four incredibly handsome men surrounded Sis. Being pansexual himself, Oliver found himself practically swooning at how perfect-looking they all were. As much as he wished to look as hunky as them, he couldn’t blame her for finding all of them attractive. 

“They have their own partners too. Some of which I get to date too,” she said, swiping at the screen to show more pictures. 

Babydoll being carried by Dwayne, a pregnant Red being held from the back by Marko, Gem and Paul flashing peace signs at the camera, and many more. So many other beautiful ladies were in the arms of these men. It was as if fate had brought the most attractive people in the world together. 

“So the other night when you said your ‘girlfriends’, you weren’t just talking about besties, huh?” Oliver playfully commented. To his delight, Sis giggled at him, thoroughly amused. He loved the sound of her laugh. It was as beautiful as her.

“That’s right! And we all have our own families too,” she explained. She pointed out the various babies that various couples had together. Oliver’s heart was melting at the pictures of chubby-cheeked infants with gummy smiles. 

One of the final pictures that Sis showed off was a family portrait with her, David, and three little ones. He listened with deep focus as she told the story of her family. 

“Laddie is the oldest. I adopted him with Dwayne way back when. He’s also the best big brother to all the others,” she cooed. “The little girl is Eva. My angel on Earth. Her name was inspired by my mother. And that’s Evan. Little mama’s boy in the making, that one.”

“You have a beautiful family, Sis,” Oliver complimented her as he handed back the phone. “I can just tell you’ve got a lot of love for those babies.”

Sis sighed in content, taking a swig of her wine. 

“I really do. I don’t know what I’d do without them….” 

Though talking about her children seemed to bring her great joy, Oliver couldn’t help but notice there was a lingering sadness in her eyes when she pondered the possibility of life without them. As if that very thing almost happened. 

Oliver smiled sympathetically, allowing her to see that he genuinely cared about what she was going through.

“Well….if you ever want to talk about them or anything else on your mind, I’m a good listener! Honest!”

“Thank you, Oliver,” Sis said. She reached out her hand, taking hold of his and giving it a soft squeeze. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

While puffing away on their cigarettes, the three girls kept their eyes peeled for anyone that would possibly cause trouble. The vampires were always on their highest guard whenever they were out with the queen. Ever since the gruesome night of the beheading, they couldn’t risk being too careful.

There was always someone out there wanting to dethrone the vampire king and queen of Santa Carla. They would be damned if they’d let such a thing happen again. 

Sis never wanted to leave the cave alone. She wanted a minimum of two mates by her side, one to watch her front, and one to watch her back. The mere idea of dying again put the fear of God in her. She wasn’t ready to go, especially when her babies needed her to get by in this cruel, cold world. 

But something was different. New. There was a sense of hope for her now. Someone kind and gentle and ready to care for her every need. The girls saw quite a lot of potential in Oliver. He was a soft boy and a bit too innocent for the life of a vampire, but he made Sis feel safe again. Like she could live her undead life to the fullest. 

But it was up to the king about what they would do next.

“So, she really does like him, huh?” David asked, sharing a video call with the three brides. 

“She must since she’s been the calmest I’ve ever seen since….you know,” Gem explained. 

David tilted his head in wonder as he thought things over. For years now, he and his brothers had collected quite a few brides to have and to hold until the end of time. Each one shaped to their liking and trained to not run away. They all embraced their vampire nature and were loyal as could be.

He hadn’t considered the possibility of adding a groom for the queen. 

“I need more time,” he said. “I still hold a lot of pain from what Michael did to me. To our family. Keep an eye on Oliver for me. I’ll stop by during some dates or send one of the boys along. Really make sure he’s right for Sis.”

“You got it,” Red chirped.

“What happens if he gets your approval?” Babydoll asked.

David’s lips pulled back, a devilish smirk stuck on his handsome face. The gears were already turning quite a bit in his evil head.

“Then we bring him home for training. The little wife needs a pet after all~”

end of part 2

Tag List: @ghoulgeousimmaculate @vampirefilmlover @aairadaebak @thelostone91 @palomam18 @crustyboypix @themarginalthinker @britany1997 @michael-after-hours @6lostgirl6 @kurt-nightcrawler @bezinful @legal-lost-boy @american-idiot-jpg @desoolate @oceansrose2002 @bloodywickedvamp @vigdys @charlizekkelly @crustyraccoon

[kteezy997]

6 Months- Part Three//t.c.

Warnings: just cursing, I think?

Another long one! Read this with your morning coffee😉

Cameron had a heyday spending Timothee's Hollywood actor money. Her books always sold really well, so she herself wasn't poor, but she still stuck to shopping mostly at Target or Old Navy because they had comfy and affordable clothes. She never splurged on luxury items. She had never touched anything like Cartier or Chanel. But Timothee was stupid rich. She had no qualms about spending his money. He had trapped her in this situation, after all, so she may as well get something out of him.

Timothee took her outside of the L.A. area to avoid paparazzi and other people that may quickly recognize him. He picked out a few staple jewelry pieces that costed thousands of dollars. She agreed to them, damn him for having great taste, she thought.

He accompanied her as she browsed and tried on clothes. He insisted on bringing a couple of bodyguards with them, even though she knew she couldn't outrun Timothee himself with his giraffe like legs.

They passed a lingerie store and Timothee stopped, nodding to Cameron and then the store next to them. He wiggled his eyebrows at her playfully.

"Is this your idea of flirting, Mr. Chalamet?" she asked, clicking her tongue.

He shrugged, "I'm just saying, you might find something in there that you really like." he put his hands in his pockets, taking a few steps forward, nonchalantly.

Cameron sighed, "Well it couldn't hurt to look...or maybe even try on some things. It's your money, Chalamet." She then strutted into the store, Timothee and the two guards following behind.

She tried on a black lingerie set, complete with matching sheer knee high stockings. It was so provocative and of course revealing. It was a big leap from her usual cotton Calvin Klein underwear. She'd never worn anything like this. She didn't even recognize herself in it. But it was nice to indulge a little bit. She smiled at herself in the mirror, truly liking what she saw in the reflection.

Cameron was startled as the curtain of the dressing room was thrust open. She gasped, instinctively covering her body as much as she could. In came the curly headed tall man that was overwhelmingly obsessed with her. "What the hell are doing?!"

"You were taking forever! Sorry, I'm just impatient, I guess." His eyes wandered down her barely clad frame, and he smirked, "Or maybe I just wanted to get a peak at what you're trying on."

"You're a real pervert, you know that?"

He chuckled, "A little bit, maybe."

Cameron rolled her eyes, "Okay, you've had your fun, now get the fuck out!" she pushed him toward the curtain.

Timothee took a hold of her wrists, pulling her in, ""Or what?" His green eyes narrowed at her, challenging her.

"Or this will be the first and only time you will see me in panties." she glared back at him.

He chuckled again and surprised her with a swift tug on her hair, "Cam, my sweet, I'll never hurt you, but I'll let you know that I can be a little rough. Don't test me too much." He then let her go, and made his way to the curtain. "You look fucking amazing, by the way. You should get that one."

"i don't take orders from you." she said cheekily.

"It wasn't an order. It's up to you. Is it always a knife fight every time you open your mouth?" he asked, shaking his head, looking at her.

Cameron shrugged, "Guess you'll see."

........

The guards had their arms full as they carried Cameron's new wardrobe into Timothee's house.

Timothee and Cameron walked inside together. "So, I have a dinner thing for work tonight. So it'll just be you and a few of the staff. The chef can make you whatever you like for dinner, and maybe you can take the opportunity to explore the house a little."

"I have all these new clothes and jewelry to wear and I can't go out with you tonight?" she teased, "What's the point of having me as a prize if you won't take me out and show me off?" Now she was having a little fun with him.

Timothee laughed, "No, you're not coming with me. Maybe soon, you can come out with me. Just not yet."

.......

He was gone for the evening and Cameron was left in the vast mansion, and not allowed out. She decided that she would indeed explore the place. She might as well since she would probably be living there for some time.

As she walked the halls, discovering a theater, a gaming room, and even an indoor pool and spa area, she couldn't help but start to really miss her family, and perhaps more so, her best friend, Nova. She was a party girl with a heart of gold, loyal as hell to the ones she loved. Nova was a spirited woman, always down for a good time, but even more, she was there for Cameron through everything, and vice versa.

After dinner, Cameron asked the sweet Mrs. Davis for a pen and notepad. If she couldn't have her laptop, she would write the old-fashioned way. She scribbled out some of her thoughts, realizing she hadn’t actually written about her life in years. This was a hell of a turn of events to restart journaling about.

She later watched some mindless television, and she made a mental note to make Timothee give her back her cellphone. She had to let her loved ones know that she was okay. Something more that some words typed out on a screen.

........

The next morning when she woke, there was a faint smell of alcohol in the air, and she felt something applying light pressure to her hip. She looked down and her eyes were met with a messy bed of mocha curls. Timothee slept soundly, his body sprawling down the length of the bed. His rested on her, but just barely. He was still wearing the clothes he left in last night.

"Timothee?" she said. But he didn't stir. She put her hand on his shoulder, shaking him and saying his name again, louder this time, "Timothee?!"

"Mm." he mumbled, coming out of his slumber. "Fuck." he raised up, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean- I just wanted to check on you just to make sure you were okay, I shouldn't have. I was a little drunk, and really tired, I must have passed out in here." He got up off the bed, "I'm sorry Cameron. I'll leave you now."

"Timothee, it's okay. It's just...I'm not your property. You don’t have to check on me.”

"I know. I'll back off, I swear." he cleared his throat to rid himself of his groggy sleepy voice.

But Cameron kind of liked the way he sounded, it was sexy. She pushed that thought out of her mind, remembering what she wanted to say to him. "I want my phone and laptop back, now. Or you'll be seriously hurting, Chalamet. I know where you sleep."

"Okay, sure. You should call your mother. It would be good for someone in your family to hear your voice."

She thought it would be harder to get him to agree. "Alright. Um, can you go so I can get dressed now?"

"Yeah-yeah, I'm sorry again."

Once he left her room, she went to have breakfast, but he wasn't there. She ate alone. She found herself...missing him? What the hell was happening?

"Mrs. Davis," Cameron approached the older woman, "where is Timothee?"

"Oh, I think he's at the pool, dear, the indoor one." she answered kindly, then returned to her cleaning of the breakfast table.

Of course he has more than one pool, she thought. "Thank you. The food was delicious by the way."

Cameron used her memory to navigate her way through the mansion and found the spa area. She looked in, seeing Timothee sitting by the pool.

"Hey." she said, walking in.

Timothee looked up, pushing his hair away from his eyes, "Oh hey."

"What are we doing today?" Cameron asked, sitting down, looking at the water.

"Are we friends now?" he asked, a soft smile on his lips.

She looked at him, "What would you call us, Chalamet?"

Timothee huffed softly, "I don't know, Cam. I think I'm really fucking up my chances with you. I thought I'd be better than this. I want you to come to me, but I'm coming on too strong. I know I am."

"Ya know, I really haven't taken into account how broken you seem to be. I've been concerned for myself; I haven't thought about what you've gone through."

"Cam," he said, but she sighed. That name. “I'm sorry, I know you don't like being called that. It just slips out."

"It's okay." she smiled, "It's kinda growing on me a bit. As you were saying?"

"You don't owe me any empathy. I just wanna know you, that's all."

"Well, maybe you could ask me something about myself." she said with a giggle.

"Okay, um I noticed in your last book that you dedicated it to your grandmother. What's your relationship like with her?"

" Oh, well, she passed away recently." her voice took a on a melancholic tone.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I know that's hard. Were you really close with her?"

"Yeah, she was like a second mother. She taught me a lot of things. She introduced me to so many classic novels. She's the reason I started writing. She was an amazing woman."

"Sounds like it. Were you able to keep anything of hers, to remember her by?"

Cameron sighed, "She promised me this beautiful gold necklace she got from her mother as a wedding gift. It has a diamond pendant. It's stunning, but I don't really care about whatever value it has. I wanted it because it was hers, ya know? But my aunt Susan, her daughter, turned into a royal bitch after she died, and wouldn't let me have anything, much less the necklace."

"Shit, that sucks. Family really doesn't mean anything sometimes."

“Yeah, they can be as shitty as a stranger when greed takes over.”

They sat there together for a little while, both putting their feet in the water. The silence felt relaxing and comfortable for them both. Cameron looked over at Timothee, really looking at him. Before this, she had seen him in movies and like many people, young women in particular, she thought he was kind of cute. But now, here before her eyes, he was even more gorgeous. She took notice of each freckle on his face, the God damn jawline that could cut glass, and the curls,: she found herself wanting to run her fingers through his hair.

“So, I wanna ask you about your writing. Do you write from personal experiences? Was your grandma's passing the reason your book had such a sadness to it? Sorry if I'm interrogating you, I just think your work is fascinating.” Timothée looked at her with pure curiosity and admiration.

“We’ll kinda, I guess." she took a moment to collect her thoughts because she was caught off guard as she had been daydreaming before he spoke, "It's hard to express something creatively that you're not necessarily feeling on a personal level. And I like to write about things that I want to experience. But, most of the time, I feel like it’s just me stringing a bunch of interesting or fun words together to make sentences." she laughed, "You can really use a pen to write or a keyboard to type out the things you can never say with your mouth.”

“What’s your favorite thing to write about?” Timothée smiled and kicked his feet, lightly splashing the water.

Cameron took a breath, “Sex.” she said in a matter of fact tone, making them both laugh. “But really, I’d say romance. I love intimate moments between humans. Life can be such a mundane day to day experience with work and all the hustle and bustle, and we forget that we’re really on this earth to bond with each other.”

“You really do speak like a writer. I feel like I'm getting smarter just listening to you.” Timothee grinned.

“Hmm, you’re sweet. But you're very well spoken too. I've seen you in interviews before, you're actually invested in the films and the characters you play, it shows."

"Oh, so you know who I am?" he leaned back some, holding himself up with his hands on the floor beside him.

"I wasn't trying to stroke your ego, Chalamet." she giggled.

He chuckled, "Too late. I can't believe that the great Cameron Reese knows who the hell I am."

"A lot of people know you." she pointed out, trying not to get lost in his flirty gaze.

He leaned forward, speaking a little bit lower, "I don't care about other people."

"You make it easy to wanna be near you, Timothée, I hate to admit it.” she said, shaking her head at him.

Timothée grinned as he heard her say that. It felt like a small victory.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @chalametbich

[wolveswithblackpearls]

When the nights get cold

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, dog hybrid!baekhyun x reader (if romantic or not is up for interpretation)

cw: nightmares, feelings of panic and anxiety, laboratory/hospital setting in the first half, violence mention, abuse mention (non-sexual), medical experiments mention

word count: ~1.6k

a/n: hey there @vampwrrr - 'tis me, your secret santa (find me @starchild--27, I am Admin S on here ^-^) and i come bearing gifts, hehe :D i did a little mix of all the things we talked about the last few months with what you promted for your gift, so i hope you have fun reading this little one-shot i came up with! i, for one, had lots of fun with it xD gave me a chance to dive into unknown waters here - i never wrote anything in this setting before!

finally, a big thank you @exols-silver-christmas for hosting yet another year of exo-l secret santa. it takes a lot to organize all this so i am, as always, very thankful that we can enjoy this event again this year. i can't wait to see all the creative things everyone came up with! <3

~ Admin S

-

Baekhyun woke up feeling uncomfortable. It was the rough fabric of the hospital gown against his skin. It was the cold metal chain that ran tightly over his face. It was the darkness and the penetrating smell of disinfectant. He hated it all. So much he just wanted to fall asleep again. But the bed had no pillow and no blanket, and he was freezing too much to fall asleep again.

I am back.

The thought slowly settled in his mind, exhaustion and resignation putting a dull feeling in his chest. He had been here before, in “The Clinic” as the people here liked to call it. But he knew that clinics are to help people that are hurt. And this place did the exact opposite. This place was a lab. And he had been created here. From some scraps of DNA the doctors had collected and altered.

Baekhyun didn’t know the specifics of how the lab worked, how they got the resources they needed, what the purpose of it all was. And he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to know. And while the question of “why” was a huge mystery to Baekhyun, the goal of The Clinic was quite clear. They wanted to create a new species. They were breeding hybrids. And Baekhyun was one of those.

Raised under constant probing and testing for the first couple years of his life, then put in a shelter with other hybrids to be socialized and later to be sold. And even then, there was no escaping The Clinic. There were regular checkups and tests the hybrids had to undergo, even after being bought.

Baekhyun crouched on the cold bed, thoughts racing. Why was he here again? Why didn’t he remember how he got here?  Why didn’t he remember what had happened before he fell asleep? Anxiously, his tail wrapped around his legs while he rested his chin on his right knee and he realized how helpless he was. He didn’t know what to do, how to get out. Damn, he didn’t even know what year it was.

Goosebumps spread over his skin. This was the most scared he had felt in a long while. It reminded him of when he was still a puppy that hadn’t known anything but the lab. Even back then, when he was entirely disoriented, he knew this was not a good place. He might not have understood it back then but he had felt distinctly that this place was harming him.

The utter silence made Baekhyun nervous. Or was it just the lack of any hints that would indicate other alive beings close by? He didn’t know and his ears twitched restlessly, eager to pick up a sound. Any sound. Just… anything besides the sound of his own beating heart.

Baekhyun put his head between his knees and buried his hands in the hair at the back of his head, tightly shutting his eyes and praying for it all to go away. Praying that, when he released all the tension in his body, he would be at a better place, a safer place.

But Baekhyun was scared. He didn’t dare to let go, to loosen his grip on himself. Any moment without your guard up would be exploited. That’s what his years in The Clinic had taught him so painfully. He couldn’t let go. They would come and immobilize him in ways that hurt and give him medicine that made him feel sick and run tests until he passed out from exhaustion. He couldn’t let go. He couldn’t let go. He couldn't-

A blaring noise ripped through the quiet, so sudden that Baekhyun let out a bark. That never happened. But, gosh, this was an alert of some sort and Baekhyun could practically feel this horrible, booming sound vibrating in his bones.

He had to get out.

Faster than he thought his body would be ready, he scrambled off the bed. The floor was unbelievably cold against his bare feet, but he started running towards the exit anyway. He pulled harshly and opened the door just far enough so he could slip through and out in the long, white hallway that was rhythmically illuminated in deep red from the flaring warning light. Baekhyun didn’t have time to look around more, he just bolted into a random direction. All he wanted was to get away from this room, but as soon as he had started running down the hallway, he started to hear steps behind him. Fast. Running.

He peaked. It was the nurses. Their skin-tight, white uniforms had them look like they were clones themselves. They might as well have been. There was no way of knowing what else was going on in The Clinic - and if there was a way, Baekhyun didn’t want to know it, wanted to be as far away as possible from that way. 

When he heard the nurses’ steps accelerating, Baekhyun ran even faster. He had not expected to have enough strength for that. His sight got blurry and his cheeks were getting wet. He could tell by the cold feeling that bloomed where the tears were running down his face. But he couldn’t stop running. Not when there were these nurses following him. They would catch him and do God-knows-what to him and-

-- -- --

Baekhyun opened his eyes so abruptly that it startled you a little, despite having tried to wake him up for the past few minutes.

He had been shaking in his sleep for a while now. You were laying next to him, waiting for this painful scene to come to a halt again but it only got worse the further the nightmare progressed. He started whimpering and yipping, making the most puppy-like noises you have ever heard from him.

You had tried to soothe him without waking him at first, started with rubbing his back and stroking his exposed arm. That usually calmed him a lot – but not this time. So you adjusted his blanket that he had kicked away from his body, letting his own warmth comfort him and, as a last resort, softly petted the wild strands of his hair. But nothing helped. When tears started running down his face, you decided it was best to wake him up and free him from whatever was going on in his head.

You had a pretty good idea what he must have been dreaming about. That was not the first time Baekhyun had suffered from these nightmares and when it got as bad as tonight, they were most likely about The Clinic. Just the thought of that place started a fire of scorching fury in your belly. They gave him pain his entire life and not even now that he got out of their grasp, he had no peace. You didn’t want to imagine the things that happened to the hybrids and other “experiments” there. Actual living beings, scientifically created there, only to-

You closed your eyes and forcefully stopped your train of thought. Your anger wouldn’t help anyone. Not right now, in the middle of the night with a scared dog hybrid sitting next to you, his messy black-and-white hair sticking out in every direction, puppy ears pressed flat against his head, whimpering quietly in the darkness as he wiped the tears from his face with shaking hands.

You took a few deep breaths and slowly so that Baekhyun wouldn’t get even more scared, wrapped your arms around his warm body from behind. And as soon as Baekhyun felt your presence, he let himself melt in your hug and shifted to rest even more comfortably in your arms, turning around to rest his head against your chest and your arms to wrap around his shoulders. Softly, you started to stroke his back again and tried to breath very calmly so Baekhyun’s irregular gasping for air would calm eventually as well.

You knew better than to confront him with questions in this situation. He needed to calm down first, realize that he is not in a dangerous situation anymore, that he is at a safe place, and he needed to take his time for that. The last thing both of you needed at this moment was another panic attack caused by Baekhyun being overwhelmed.

You lifted your eyes from the top of Baekhyun’s head and gazed towards the window. Tonight, the temperatures had dropped deep, and it had started to snow. It was always the first icy cold nights that gave Baekhyun the worst nightmares. It had something to do with the whiteness, quiet and cold that reminded him of The Clinic. It made you even more determined to create good and happy memories in the winter months with him.

You loved the winter, the crisp cold and how the first snow makes the world look like it has been put under a spell that makes everything really still and silent. It had always felt magical to you and even if Baekhyun would always feel a much greater relief when spring would finally come around, you didn’t want the nightmares to be the only thing Baekhyun remembered from winter nights. But it would take work to get there. He had been through too much. You had heard a lot about it from Baekhyun already but you weren’t sure if you knew everything yet. And if tonight’s nightmare brought up new memories that caused the dream to be especially bad this time around.  

But you were certain, Baekhyun would immediately talk to you tonight. When he felt he was ready and not in shock anymore. You two would figure it all out from there. Or maybe you would just fall asleep again and figure it out tomorrow. And with Baekhyun’s breath becoming more and more even and your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier… tomorrow didn’t seem like such a bad plan.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Idea-- Eddie with a s m o l boyfriend who's super sweet and artistic and loves physical affection but he's scared to ask for it because he's scared of being bullied and he was made fun of in past relationships for it?

Your work is absolutely amazing, make sure to eat and drink plenty of water and rest well 💜💜💜

Thank you for such kind words! I hope you enjoy this!

Eddie Munson x Male Reader

Send me request here! Currently writing for Eddie Munson. I write for a variety of reader inserts (male, female, gender neutral, POC too).

The more details you had to your request, the better it is for me. EX: “What about some fluff for Eddie after he’s had a long day?”

Feel free to look through my masterlist here!

_____________________

You giggle just a little at the feeling of Eddie's fingers brushing over your ribs. You know he's doing it on purpose and you've tried to shy away from the devilish grin on his face so he'll drop the action. You know Eddie won't. He's not like that. He loves to find the one button that annoys you and drive it into the ground. The good thing is that Eddie is equally good about respecting your boundary. The second you get serious and tell him seriously to quit it, he does.

Eddie pauses you as you try to walk past him. He knows you're at work, but he can't help it, but steal you away behind one of the racks of clothing you're stocking. "You come here often?" he asks.

It takes a moment for the words to register as you relish in the closeness of Eddie's body. But when you do get yourself brain sorted, your wit is sharp. "Every week day from 4 to 9," you return, calling his bluff. "But my boyfriend's a bit intimidating looking. You think you're tough enough?"

"Oh," Eddie laughs. "I'm tough enough. Don't work too hard," Eddie adds stepping off to the side.

"I won't," you laugh and then send him a wink before you continue on with the rack of clothes you need to get out.

Eddie gives you a moment and then comes out from behind you after a minute before giving you a quick wave. You know he's going to be calling you the second you get home and you look forward to the call. As Eddie leaves, you can feel the ghost of his breathe on your cheek as he laughed and smirked down on you. You like having Eddie close, it makes you feel safe, loved and cared for in ways deeper than just what people expect from high schoolers. But you're glad that Eddie seems to get it, how his closeness and touch matters to you.

And maybe the truth of the matter is that Eddie is quick to give it. It saves you from having to vocalize it. You don't have to ask because Eddie's going to give it anyway. It works out, which you're thankful for. And the touching is a high that you ride for the first couple months. Eddie's quick to take your hand. He presses a kiss to your cheek easily.

You start to anticipate Eddie's smile when he stops by your job but you notice his hand doesn't reach for yours like it normally does. You first think it's just a rough day. Then maybe a bad week. And now you're facing the stint of nearly two and a half weeks without Eddie's constant touches.

You sit on the couch of the trailer, at the end closest to the wall while Eddie sits closest to the kitchen. Your thighs are inches from touching, shoulders too. The TV plays a movie you don't really care to watch, but you know Eddie likes it so you watch. And all you can think while you sit is that you want Eddie's arm around your shoulders. You want to tuck your head onto his shoulder and have him almost swallow your tiny frame with his lanky one.

The seconds are killing you, picking layer and layer of skin off your frame, leaving you to feel raw and exposed though you're covered. "Why don't you touch me anymore?" the question comes out like vomit--tumbling and chunky until it clatters with the air.

"What-What do you mean?" Eddie asks. He picks up the remote to pause the VHS. He doesn't want to say you're upset but you sound distressed.

"You-you don't touch me like before. I-" the confession is burning your lips. You won't let it fall down. The last time you did your partner laughed at you.

"You what? Sweetheart, you can talk to me," Eddie turns now, one leg bent up under him as he faces you.

You turn to mirror his position. "You--you used to just take my hand without me having to ask. Why'd you stop?"

Eddie exhales, his chest rising and falling deeply with the words that he has to to form fully. "Oh, well, I-I didn't know you liked it."

Shame--that's the only thing you can call it as it settles in your gut. How would you ever the words out? You don't want a repeat of what's happened previously. You don't want to be shunned for your desire. "It's-oh, well, I-" None of the words get you far.

Eddie reaches for your hands, taking them into his. His thumb tracing over your knuckles. "You're safe here."

"I miss it." It's easier to confess to his hands, watching the way Eddie's slender fingers run over your digits. "I miss your touch," you whisper.

"Thank you," Eddie smiles, reaching up to tap his forefinger to your chin. The action tilts your head back to look at your boyfriend. "Sweets, were you embarrassed to tell me? You're already my boyfriend," Eddie laughs.

You laugh in return but it's short and hollow sound. Eddie knows it's something more. Your gaze won't settle on his. Worry settles now--thick and heavy in Eddie's gut. "Did something happen?"

"Past--past partners made fun of me," you whisper.

"Oh," Eddie cooes. "Not me, though. I like it--touching you and holding your hand too. I stopped because you never really said one way or the other if you thought if it was too much and I got worried I was making you uncomfortable, you know? I don't want that."

You shake your head fervently. "No, it-I'm not uncomfortable. I just got scared. I didn't--I didn't want to make you uncomfortable if I asked for more of it."

It's a sad tuft of laughter, but Eddie brings your chin further up, head now reclined back on your neck and he stretches down, one hand slipping to your torso. It readjusts you so you're half hanging onto him, half kneeling on the couch. "All you have to do is ask, okay, lover?"

You nod into his chest. "Can-can I have a kiss?"

"Absolutely," he grins, sealing his lips around yours.

[mysticsparklewings]

Three Cheers for Harmonic Revenge (+ Time Lapse!)

________ This is what happens when you're a fan of both Winx Club and My Chemical Romance, apparently! 😂 Truly a labor of love—I started on this for an MCR album anniversary on June 8th. I so missed the date, but I had to see it through!

⭐️ AND I've got a Time Lapse of the art coming together, featuring my very rough attempt at a matchup of MCR's Helena and the Winx Club Harmonix song as backing music! It's a wild ride! ⭐️ (...There's also an unlisted version with "normal" music just in case my less-than-amateur audio editing skills are too much for anyone. 😅)

Anyway, to make a very long story a little bit shorter, a few weeks ago I ended up down a bit of a rabbit hole trying to identify likely sources of inspiration for the thing to come out of Winx Club Season 5 that the fandom at large actually kind of loves: Harmonix. I went in thinking Ballet, and despite my best efforts came out with that opinion pretty much unchanged. 

Not long after, but for the entirely unrelated reason of Being An MCR Fan on The Internet, I ended up looking at some screenshots from their Helena music video. [I think this was prompted by a Reddit post asking about the dress for cosplay purposes, I'm not sure.] 

It was then I had the thought, so simple and off-handed: "I don't see how you can look at a ballet outfit like this and not think Harmonix was ballet-inspired." 

If you've ever seen a TV show or cartoon where a character says something, and then only after the words leave their mouth do they realize the implications/meaning of what they just said, that was me in that moment. 😱

On the one hand, I want to say "I can't believe I didn't see the similarities before," but on the other...Well, I can believe it, actually. Comparing Winx and MCR in almost any capacity is not a natural thing to do, even with a Ballet connection in each. The fact that I finally did notice came largely down to the serendipity of being a fan of both and just happening upon the Helena pictures not long after spending an abnormal amount of time looking for clothes that look like Harmonix. I think there are many points leading up to that moment where if just a couple of things had gone differently, I still wouldn't have noticed. 

Either way, once the connection was made in my brain it took all of about 10 seconds for "Helena as a Harmonix Fairy" to follow. 🤩

At the time, I didn't have immediate plans to act on it. It was just an idea to be filed away on the little shelf in my brain where I keep "Things that would be fun to draw eventually." [That shelf is super full and in danger of collapse, for what it's worth. 😉]

Earlier this month, that changed when I remembered June 8th is the Anniversary for Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, the album that Helena comes from, and I had yet to come up with any other plans or ideas to commemorate it this year. 

Now, clearly I ended up missing that deadline, and two others I set for myself afterward. Things have just been very chaotic around my house for last 3-ish months or so, and June has been no different. Other IRL things just had to take priority. 😔

In my defense, the art itself was finished on June 12th. This description here and the Time Lapse Video (mostly the video) were what really set me back, even aside from household chaos. But it was really important to me to get a video done for this piece, so getting that done vs. getting the art out faster was the trade I made. 

But part of the reason I bring this up to underline that originally, I thought I was on a fairly tight deadline. As a result, during the planning stage I didn't really have time to tinker with refining the base design or debating details like I normally would. So I drew from the Winx's own Harmonix designs as much as possible—picking out pieces that naturally resembled the structure of Helena's dress. 

If I'd had more time to noodle around...the structure probably would've been largely the same, but the details most likely would have changed to help it feel more original, and I may have gotten crazy enough to try and find a happy [lighter] grey medium between Harmonix's pastel palettes and Helena's stark black and red. 

As it stands though, I'm not unhappy with how that all turned out, I just think it's worth noting how the visual concept may have changed if I'd had more time to toy with it. [Especially for when Future Me ends up referring back to this description; Hi there Future Mystic 👋]

Since my process for making the art can both be seen in the Time Lapse and is something you've all seen/heard me describe before by now [I think I have finally nailed down a fairly standard "Winx Art Process" over the last few months in large part thanks to Winxsona Winter—which yes, I do still intend to eventually finish], instead of taking you through the general stuff again, I'm going to do a bullet-point list similar to one I did for Sirenix. 

The main difference is this time, it's more focused my observations for what similarities exist between Harmonix and Helena's costume, as opposed to just a list of Harmonix traits and how I handled them. [Though there will still some of that too, naturally.]

Most notably, both feature "fluffy" layered skirts. Harmonix skirts don't really look like the same fabric texture, but that could be either a stylistic/animation choice or could be chalked up to there also probably being some Wedding Dress inspiration in the designs alongside the Ballet elements.  Also, at first I didn't think the train on the Harmonix skirts was a similarity, but upon a closer look at the Helena music video...Helena's skirt is definitely longer and train-like in the back, so...Cool, I was wrong! 😄 And: As it turns out, Bloom's Harmonix skirt actually does have a small section that's ruffled a bit differently from the rest—It's just really hard to tell because on her, it's all the same pastel blue color. But as you can see, referencing that part of her skirt here to incorporate the Red underlayer that peaks through on Helena's skirt worked a treat! 😊 P.S. Wow I really hated drawing a lot of really tightly-confined ruffles like this. 😤 And trying to shade them was even worse! 🙃

Both feature form-fitting tops with minimal or no straps. I more specifically saw Helena similarities in Stella's Harmonix top [with the frills over the bust and structure lines below], and later I realized the top-most portion of Musa's has an even more similar kind of frill.  To that end, Helena's is once again definitely supposed to be something transparent like tulle, but since there really aren't any transparent fabric portions of Harmonix, I chose instead to use a slightly lighter near-black to give it a similar effect without breaking that Harmonix "rule." Also, the bodice portion is a true jet black with no shading. I tried the more typical near-black grey that could be shaded at first, but it just wasn't doing it for me. I tried this on a whim and decided it looked good enough to keep.

Most of the Harmonix designs have a kind of "belt" that connects the bodice to the skirt; Perfect match for Helena's red one!  Similarly, most of those same Harmonix designs have a "belt"/ribbon just under the bust as well. Helena does not, as far as I can tell. But I chose to add a read one here for a little extra variety and helping break up all that black.

The Harmonix shoes are almost entirely ribbons winding up the legs; Helena wears black ballet slippers with, you guessed it, black strings/ribbons that wind around her feet and ankles.  Now, maybe I could have gotten away with all-black ribbons and black for the heel portion of the shoes, but 1. The Harmonix designs all use 2 colors for the ribbons and the heel is usually in the "contrasting" color. 2. I knew from the beginning that the skirt train [a mandatory aspect of Harmonix] was going to either be black or a very dark grey, and even during the Concept phase before I had a specific pose in mind, I had a feeling the ribbon tails were going to overlap with said train. So I used a dark red. Originally, it was about as bright as her sash and belt, but then I realized Bloom and Musa's pink ribbons were darker than the pink used in the bodices, a darker red would be closer to the original black anyway, and that would yet again add just a tiny bit more visual variety.  One last note about the shoes: I did my best to match the original winding of Helena's shoe ribbon, except for the very first ribbon across where the toes connect to the rest of the foot. That strap was specifically added as a nod to how Helena's proper ballet slippers outright cover the toe. 

About the train: Similar to the bodice, I started out with the train in one color, the color you currently see for the skirt itself and the very top of the train. It was fine but I was itching for some more variety, so after reassuring myself "Layla/Aisha's train has a few different shades of green instead of being solid so it's fine," I used the different tiers [taken from Flora's train] to create a little bit of a gradient from the black to a charcoal grey. It kinda works as a hint toward Harmonix's more pastel palette. Sort of. 

Aside from Tecna, all the girls' hair is at least partially pulled back in Harmonix. This sorta works out because it appears the front "bang" sections of Helena's hair are pulled back. [In my brain I call this "Doll Hair" because I personally have seen that kind of look way more often on dolls than on real people.] It's similar to the front of Bloom's Enchantix hair.  The rest of Helena's hair appears pretty thick and a little wild, so I tried to incorporate a bit of that here, but I couldn't push it too far without "breaking" the Winx Style.  And while I'm here: I did choose to make Helena's hair a very dark brown. In the video, most of the time it does just look plain black, but there are moments where my eyes pick up on a "warmth" to the color, which makes me think maybe it really is that super-dark brown hair that just looks black. Even if it isn't, I stand by my choice as slightly more fitting for the Winx style, since Winx almost never does truly black hair anyway. 

All of the Harmonix designs feature some sort of small head accessory, usually a tiara. Helena's costume very prominently features netting over the face...And there appears to be something going on towards the back of her head, presumably whatever is holding the netting in place.  I've seen fan interpretations of whatever that is being flowers [usually black roses], and since Tecna has a few flower-ish pieces as part of her Harmonix tiara, that seemed like a fair choice here.  As for the netting...You'll see very briefly in the Time Lapse that during the concept phase, I really did want to include that, but it was too hard to ignore how out of place it felt. Winx rarely does anything with netting in the first place [though a couple of rare examples do exist], and considering certain parts of Harmonix feel like it was designed to be fairly simple [but look complex at first glance, which it does]...I just couldn't do it. So instead, I...Well, it ended up being almost a copy of Layla's Harmonix tiara, but I really truly did not realize how similar what I was doing was to hers until after the full-color version was pretty much done. 😅 I thought I was doing more of an upside-down version of Musa's, and my entire goal was to just do something that came down over the forehead like the netting did. 

Speaking of Musa, if those wings look familiar, they kinda should. Remember before that I mentioned I was originally working on a pretty tight timeline for this piece? 

One of the things that has proven to take me the longest with original Winx designs since I picked up making them semi-regularly again is undoubtedly the wings. I got to really learn that the hard way with Believix at the beginning of this year. 

Because of the very limited time I thought I had and my sluggish pace with wings, when while collecting Harmonix screenshots for reference I noticed "Hey, Musa's wings would still work pretty well if they were flipped upside down..." A little bit of a lightbulb went off. 

I don't even know why exactly that thought occurred to me before I'd even really considered the wings. The best I can figure is a little hangover in my subconscious—At one point I remember reading one of the Winx's Sirenix wings are apparently upside down at the end of her transformation sequence. That stuck out to me at the time because I don't really understand how you could tell if Sirenix wings are upside down or not because of how they're shaped. 🤨

Anyway. So I found a screenshot with a fairly clear shot of one of Musa's wings, flipped it around, and really just traced right over it. 

I did make a few small tweaks, and most notably I added some..."Lines of Tears?" like Layla and Flora's have, but at the end of the day they are still really Musa's wings. 

Normally, I wouldn't have done that and instead would've just taken heavy inspiration from Musa's wings, but again, I thought I had a lot less time than I really did. And to be fair, plenty of other Winx fans re-color or otherwise re-purpose the Canon Girls' wings for their OCs and/or Fan Transformations on a regular basis anyway, so it's not like this is a totally unheard-of idea or anything. 🤷‍♀️

Much later, I also figured in a way it fits; Musa is a fairy of Music, this artwork is largely based around a specific piece of music/the band that made it; I even opted to add music note shapes like Musa's wings produce [all the Harmonix wings produce specific shapes in that way] when they move to deepen that connection after I thought of it. 

Other things worth noting [and this is again a • bullet point list because, frankly, at the moment I'm just too lazy to make this all flow together in more story-like paragraphs]:

I did my best to match Helena's skin and eyes, but her lips and eye makeup were a little trickier. Her lips ended up a bit pinker and not as close to her skin tone in the spirit of Winx, and I had to compromise and use greyish reds shaped like the Trix's eyeshadow to get a similar effect. The eyeshadow still really isn't perfect for Helena or Winx, but I was short on other ideas so, "close enough is good enough."

The shape of the mouth isn't quite what I wanted, either. You'll see in the time-lapse that I already changed it pretty drastically from the first sketch I had. I definitely wanted something open, because while Helena's mouth is not open for the entire music video or anything, it is more open at certain points and this shot in particular is pretty iconic.  But I also didn't want anything too crazy because, y'know, Winx Club.  The bared teeth and lack of upturn for a smile was my compromise. Either the mouth itself needed some more tweaking, or the eyebrows did. The whole expression is okay, I just don't think I pushed it far enough. 🤷‍♀️

There isn't really one specific pose that represents Helena more than the others [...at least not standing up/dancing], so I picked mostly from a general feeling from the music video. I did reference some official stock arts of the Winx in Ballet attire [mostly this one of Flora], but the feet had to be changed pretty notably to fit the shoes, and overall I had to make some tweaks in the anatomy where the stock art and show style differ. [These differences seem to increase from Season 5 onward, too.] 

The background was mostly inspired by Layla's Harmonix, and it might be my favorite part of the whole piece, actually!  Upon closer studying for this project, I was surprised by how much "junk" is in some of the Harmonix backgrounds. There's tons of texture in all of them and a fair bit of color variation in most...It's pretty interesting compared to past transformations and even Harmonix itself. The backgrounds end up being a lot more intense than the solid and gentle pastel dresses. [Wouldn't surprise me if that was intentional!] I had a little more work cut out for me since I couldn't just slap bright colors all over the place. I did consider just sticking with blacks/greys/white and maybe some red, but I thought it might help my version of Helena here pop a little better if I was able to change up the palette just a bit. And, of course, the warmth of the background helps add more variety and liven the whole image up.  Much more to my delight though, I was able to create the background without having to download any new Procreate brushes! 🥳 Between a couple of default ones, the ocean-themed brushes I already had from previous projects, and a couple I just happened to pick up along the way [mostly as monthly freebies from brush makers who normally charge for their work], I had all the brushes I needed already right there, it just took a little experimenting. 

I will reiterate that while it still took time, making the art itself really wasn't so bad or difficult. And it helps that this ridiculous crossover idea was something I really wanted to make—Because if I didn't, who else would, right? 🤪

It's not perfect, sure. But it's here and it still came out pretty good overall, I think. So I'm happy. 😊

Now I would also like to take a moment to explain part of why putting the Time Lapse together for this piece ended up taking longer than it probably should have, because I really didn't have room to talk about it in the video itself...though it does sorta get a mention right at the beginning: The audio. 

To once again make a very long story short(er):

I, in my infinite wisdom, decided instead of the usual royalty-free music stock, to try and create a mash-up of Helena and the Harmonix song for this video. That was more or less the visual premise for the art, so why not go all-out with the theming?

For once, I cannot take you through the full nitty-gritty because, at least to my inexperienced brain, audio editing is a pretty nebulous process. But I can tell you that aside from inexperience, the other thing that probably held me back was my choice of program to handle the task. 

I did not have the patience nor motivation to try and teach myself how to use an audio program for this one silly project, and I semi-accidentally learned at the beginning of last year that DaVinci Resolve has an entire section dedicated to just editing the audio for videos. Since I was able to fumble my way around in there for the light audio editing I wanted to do at that time, I figured that was a slightly safer bet here. It may not have saved me a ton of time, but it was at least vaguely familiar, and for me, familiarity goes a long way in making me comfortable with a program even if I still don't really know what the heck I'm doing. 

This isn't really what DaVinci is supposed to be for—as far as I can tell it doesn't even have an "audio only" export option, which did complicate things a bit—and even if it was, I'm sure any true audiophile will still probably cringe a lot at what I managed to create.😅 I did my best to make it "tolerable" for a listen or two, but I know my ears are inherently biased since I know and enjoy both songs quite a bit already. But I did manage to get feedback from two persons that know notably more about audio than I do, and they weren't horrifically appalled, so I don't feel like I'm committing a crime against music by putting it out there, at least. 

Aside from that, the video did also have to wait on me to finish this description [to a certain extent, anyway]. For smaller projects, I can usually write the on-screen notes for the video first and worry about the description later, but most of the time for a big project like this, I need the bulk of this written description done first so I have a baseline of all the things I want to mention and can pare down from there. 

I can do a fair bit of the video editing up until the point I need those notes, but once I hit that wall there's really no way around it. And in this case, I did actually use all that other video editing as a form of procrastinating on the description. 😅

Most likely because I knew there was going to be a lot to cover, I really put off like 70% of this description as long as possible. 🫣 The other 30% I actually did relatively soon after the art was ready. The plan was to go ahead and get most of it out of the way, but clearly I lost my writing mojo partway through and had to come back to it later...and I was still a little lazy with certain aspects. 

But hey, the description isn't the art, it's just meant to describe the art, so whatever works, yeah?

In any case, I think that's everything I wanted to mention about this particular process. It's been quite a ride, and I'm glad it's over. Mostly so I can go back to working on some other projects I already had cooking before this one came up, but also...I am just glad this is one of those ideas that, as I said much earlier, originally got put on an "eventually" shelf in my brain and actually got to come to fruition fairly quickly after the fact. 

Kinda gives me more hope than I previously had for some of those other "eventually" projects, which is nice. 🙂

Similarly: I don't know if I'll find a way to revisit Winx Club x MCR ever again, but I'm thrilled I I found a way to do it at least once! Doubly so that I'm happy with how it turned out! 😊 With that in mind, you never know. It's possible I'll figure out another way to do it again someday. 

In the meantime, I leave you Sparklers to enjoy this one and the time lapse [whether you're brave enough for the mash-up version or opt for the "easy listening" one instead]. 😉 s usual, I'm off to those other projects I mentioned shortly ago...

_______

Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings Winx Club © Rainbow S.p.A.

Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge and associated concepts © My Chemical Romance

[rom-e-o]

Not long after starting the lounge singing (so before the Twins), Bess is wooed into going out with a cute, funny, seemingly sweet bartender that often works through her sets. The first date goes so well, Bess lets him kiss her goodnight when he drops her home: It's a little forward, tongue and significant moisture are felt a little earlier than Bess would normally want, but he doesn't push for more and is charming. Besides, Bess only ever kissed Oliver before and he was a Terrible Kisser™️. So maybe this is what kissing is actually supposed to be like?

Over the course of two months, they go out on various dates. The guy's persona never slips; he is always nice, courteous, gentle, etc. He is a bit more forward with where he likes to put his hands and kiss her despite how they claim to not be exclusive just yet and are just testing the waters, but he doesn't pressure her for sex. He never picks up on how she prefers live flowers to cut ones and dark chocolate to milk, but nobody is perfect. And this all feels nice and fun. Bess does think she might be falling for him a bit , though.

Then, one afternoon, Bess comes home after meeting him for lunch. She looks... it's hard to say--dazed? There are a lot of emotions in those eyes.

It's just her and Connie in the house at that time, and Bess asks to talk. Turns out, at lunch, Bess and Mr. Bartender had the discussion about where this all was going. They like each other. A lot. He'd really like to be her boyfriend. Bess admitted she'd really like to be his girlfriend. There's only one snag: Their relationship would have to be an open one to work for him. He's already been seeing other girls on the side with various levels of exclusivity while dating her. He already has a couple girlfriends. They're all actually poly together, but Bess wouldn't have to be if that's not her thing (it's not). "I just have so much love to give, Angel!" is his excuse. "Too much for any one girl to handle by herself."

Bess' romantic dream her entire life has been to be someone's One and Only™️. She wants to be enough for someone--just her. That only got stronger after Oliver. But this guy has been the closest thing to a dream relationship she's ever had: He's been nothing but sweet, caring, and a gentleman. The idea of an open relationship makes Bess sick to her stomach and makes her feel inadequate (and just is not her thing), but she wants love. She wants romance. And she's already a little more wrapped up in Mr. Bartender than she'd want or care to admit. "Should I do this, Connie? It feels so... wrong. Skeavy. Like an excuse for him to two-time me. I think about it and it hurts and I just wanna cry. But what if this is the only chance at real love I'm ever gonna get? What if I'm just not made to be enough for someone?Maybe I'm just not that lovable enough and all I can be is... one of a number." Tears are definitely trickling down Bess' cheeks.

Oughhhh, that’s rough. The “he’s so nice, BUT” scenario. But he’s not so nice. He misled her and is using an excuse, it sounds like, to date multiple ladies. It sucks and is heartbreaking.

Constance noticing Bess seems off, and as they talk. Connie listens for a long, LONG time. There’s lots of hugs, tissues and a bottle of gin is definitely opened.

After Bess has said everything and poured those emotions out, Connie brings her close and tight for a hug.

Connie isn’t poly, but she’s definitely acquainted with poly couples from back in NYC. She knows they have a healthy and loving dynamic, but it’s healthy because everyone in the poly relationship WANTS a poly relationship. They’re open about what their needs and wants are …they’re not leading people on like this guy arguably did to Bess.

Besides, his EXCUSE for wanting that type of relationship is …interesting. I wonder how he’d feel about his girls having multiple boyfriends, haha? PROBABLY not as enthusiastic as he lets on.

“You’re not in the wrong for wanting one partner to love you, Bess,” she explains softly. “To be their …’endgame’ is what kids are saying nowadays, right? Anyway, it’s like any other preference … he should have disclosed that sooner, honestly. Sounds like he was playing games and just hoped you’d roll with it. I’m proud of you for sticking up for yourself.”

She runs slow circles into her back, just focusing on making Bess comfortable.

“The answer is no. You shouldn’t do it. Because you obviously don’t want this. There would be nothing but more heartache down the line, which is not what you deserve. He was too forward, and he was misleading. He doesn’t deserve you.”

Another squeeze.

“What you do deserve is exactly what you want: one partner that loves you. This isn’t your only chance. Men are attracted to you, Bess. You are beautiful and a catch … that also means you’re gonna have duds like this guy try to woo you.

“I say dump him. Kindly, but in public, where he can’t squirrel his way back in without sounding like an ass to everyone else around. Don’t let him be a blockade to your true happiness. You deserve better, and you have a soulmate that’s waiting out there for you! Don’t settle.”

[seb-reads31]

Request: None technically?? But this is a sort of part 2 of the Diavolo x tsundere!reader head canons though

Part 1

Tw's - None

Type - Fic

Genre - Fluff

Comments - I'm excited for this lol, my 2nd fic 💪 Dia may be slightly off character? I apologize beforehand if he is ;-;

Tsundere Cuddles

You and Diavolo had been dating for nearly a year now, about 7 months after the start of the exchange program, and he was slowly but surely getting you more used to physical affection.

It was.. rough to begin with, but over time you got a bit more warmed up to things. Dia would push you out of your comfort zone little by little, until you started seeking out affection from him on your own, which melted his heart.

And today, Diavolo was ready to try something completely new for the both of you.

Cuddling.

Neither of you had done it with a romantic partner before, and he felt as if you were ready for it, so, with slightly shaking hands, he picked up his D.D.D., and messaged you, asking if you could come over to the castle today.

You were slightly surprised he had messaged you so suddenly, but you were happy nonetheless. And so, you quickly started picking out the perfect outfit to wear, but in the middle of you grabbing your clothes, you heard your D.D.D. go off again. It was, Diavolo.? He sent a other message saying to get dress comfortably, like pajamas??

Was he not so secretly inviting you over for a sleepover again? ..possibly, he's done it before. You shrugged slightly then walked over to your dresser, grabbing a slightly oversized t-shirt and some sweatpants, tossing a hoodie on top then head to the front door.

Luckily, none of the brothers were out and about to question where you were going, so you were able to "sneak" out easily.

When you arrived, you had just barely reached your hand up to knock when the doors suddenly opened, revealing Barbatos, Diavolo's personal butler.

"The young master has been expecting you, please, come in." He spoke in his normal calm but slightly sweet tone of voice, moving to the side to led you in.

"Oh, uh, thank you Barbatos.." You replied with a surprised look, but quickly shook it off, walking inside the castle that had yet to take your breath away at the decor of it alone.

Barbatos just nodded, then led you to where Diavolo was, and more than likely where he was planning a ton of fun activities for the both of you to enjoy.

After a small walk, Barbatos had taken you to Diavolo's room, knocking on the door. "M'lord, MC has arrived." There was rustling on the other side of the door, then a slightly shakey voice responded. "Come in," was all that needed to be said before Barbatos opened the door, and stepping to the side and let you walk in, and see Diavolo in... a dragon onesie..?

"Ah! MC, you're here! I'm so glad you could make it, come come! Sit with me," he patted the spot next to him on his bed very excitedly. You agreed with a small blush spreading across your cheeks, matched with a pout forming on your lips as you sat down on the spot Diavolo was patting.

"So.." You started, fidgeting with your fingers nervously as you avoided looking your boyfriend in the eyes. He caught on to your slightly flustered state, starting to answer your question. "Ah! Yes, right, well, you know how I've been helping you get used to affection and such, right?" You nodded, slowly looking up at Diavolo with a curious look, telling him silently to continue.

"Well.." Diavolo began, but hesitated with a small blush adorning his cheeks as well. He took a deep breath then gave you a confident look, despite his rosey cheeks, "I invited you over to my castle today to ask you if you would like to try something new!"

You tilted your head to the side curiously, wondering what this 'something new' could be. "I read online that couples often partake in cuddling when they feel comfortable enough with each other. And I was wondering if you wanted to give it a try!" He looked at you with such child-like excitement, he was so precious, you found it hard saying no to him. Not only that, but because you knew he would stop immediately if you felt uncomfortable.

That didn't stop your face from turning into a deep shade of crimson at the thought of being so close with him however. You had gotten used to the random questions regarding affection from him enough that you were able to think about this thoroughly. And after a few moments of thinking, you gave him a small nod, silently telling him that you wanted to give it a try too.

"Yay!" He exclaimed with stars in his eyes, quickly pulling out his D.D.D., and going to his gallery to show you a few pictures. "I went ahead and looked for different cuddling positions that you might like, pick whichever one you would like to start with MC." He handed you his D.D.D. so you could look at the different photos. There were only three, which you silently thanked Dia for. You didn't want to be overwhelmed with a bunch of different cuddling positions, so you greatly appreciated this.

The first one was a half spoon position, where your head would be resting on his chest, and his arm would be wrapped around you slightly. (Like this)

The second one was called the embrace, where your face would be nuzzled against Diavolo's chest as his arms wrapped around you, hence the name.

And finally, it was just you laying on top of him, head resting against his chest. (This was the best one I could find-)

(Because all of them end up with you laying your head on his chest, pick your favorite <33)

You picked the one you wanted to try first, and showed Diavolo, handing him his D.D.D. back at the same time. He gave you a quick nod, laying down and waiting for you to cuddle up to him at your own pace.

You slowly but surely got into your position, but laid there somewhat stiffly, unsure of where to put your arms, where to put your legs, where to put your head, anything.

"MC, is it alright if I guide you a bit? You look a bit stiff there." Diavolo gave you a curious, yet caring look, waiting for you to give him permission before doing anything. Because you were so unsure of what to do, you gave him a small nod, trying to ease the tension in your arms slightly as Diavolo gently grabbed them, guiding them to where they need to be for the cuddling position you picked out.

"Is it alright if I wrap my arms around you now?" His voice was soft and gentle, almost like a fluffy cloud in the sky. You gave him another small nod, trying to relax a little as his arm(s) slowly embraced you, one of his hands started to rub up and down your back in a soothing motion.

He was so warm.. and surprisingly soft. With the combination of Dia rubbing your back and his warmth soaking through his onesie, you started to relax against him, your eyes starting to flutter shut as you finally let yourself fall asleep against Diavolo.

He had noticed you falling asleep, but didn't say anything so he wouldn't ruin the sweet moment you two were sharing, instead, letting his own eyes flutter shut, joining you in a wonderful land full of dreams.

About an hour later Barbatos had come to "check" on you two as you napped. That's what he claimed at least. In reality, he knew this was going to happen, so he decided to take a photo of the two of you resting peacefully for teasing purposes later.

Notes - AAAAAAA, this took like, a week or something. I loved writing this, but it took me a solid like, 10 minutes looking for photos of cuddling positions on Google. ;-; it was worth it however in the end ᕦ⁠(⁠ò⁠_⁠ó⁠ˇ⁠)⁠ᕤ