#anywho! here she is! can you tell i love rendering skin? because i do

[floralcrematorium]

the hetalia fandom's token goth girl

Belarus | Belgium | Czechia | Hungary | Liechtenstein | Monaco | Seychelles | Taiwan | Ukraine | Vietnam

[fvlminare]

✗✗✗   you see [ camille rivas ] around lately? yeah i heard that the [ cis female ] is up to no good. [ she / her ] has been here for [ three years ] now but they’re still pretty [ calculating ] which is fine because they’re also [ ardent ] so it balances out. the [ twenty-six ] year old [ dancer at mayhem ] actually looks like a lot like [ sofia carson ], don’t you think? it’s best to watch out, though, because it’s been said that they’re really into [ the rush of cocaine in her veins & a vice grip on her throat ]. 

henlo it me again! i hope u guys aren’t sick of me yet bc here’s my other bb! say hello to my boss-ass bish gal camile! she’s sassy, classy and a lil badassy. she’s a rather feisty, fiery, ball of rage and anger who cba with ur bullshit tbh n she’ll tell u this too if u piss her off enough! she’s lowkey cutthroat and always out for number one, aka: herself. but, i mean, she does have some redeeming qualities and her hair is bomb af so that makes up for it all really, doesn’t it? basically that meme: ‘ she’s beauty, she’s grace, she’ll punch you in the face. ’ anywho, you know the drill, slap a lil luv on this n i’ll come pester u for all the good stuff : - ) 

fundamentals.

CAMILLE ALARA RIVAS     —     twenty-six, dancer at mayhem,   +   an honest-to-god vixen   /   hellcat   /   lil demoness ! 

aesthetics   ➤   dresses of black lace and red velvet, the scent of chanel perfume lingering in the air as she floats past, blood-red fingertips coiled around the pistol grip of a gun, red-bottomed heels clicking against marble floors, rose gold highlighter shimmering along the height of prominent cheekbones, satin dresses draped over a svelte frame that is shrouded in an air of mystery and intrigue, baby pink roses in a vase on the window sill, deft fingers stained with charcoal and oil paint, the melodic chime of piano keys, delicate digits adorned with moonstone gem rings, a coy smile spread across full crimson lips, long raven locks blowing in the cool breeze of a summer’s evening, battered books with dog-eared pages, a sense of freedom and carelessness when dancing for fun, & a sense of allurement and captivation when dancing for work.

nicknames. cam, cami, mil, millie, spawn of satan >:~)

date of birth. april tenth.

gender. cis female.

pronouns. she + her.

birthplace. manhattan, new york.

orientation. pansexual + demiromantic.

education. bachelor of dance degree obtained from nyu tisch school of the arts.

spoken languages. can speak fluent english, spanish, & latin.

negative traits. capricious, ornery, impulsive, guileful, caustic, brusque, obstinate, destructive, deceptive, & promiscuous.

positive traits. ardent, whimsical, intrepid, graceful, poised, elegant, headstrong, observant, independent, & confident.

strengths. optimistic, energetic, creative, practical, spontaneous, rational, knows how to prioritise, great in a crisis, & relaxed.

weaknesses. stubborn, insensitive, private, reserved, easily bored, dislikes commitment, & has a rather risky behaviour.

talents. ballet, knife throwing, hand-to-hand combat, horse riding, figure skating, piano, violin, painting, singing, & dancing.

physiology. hazel eyes. dark brown hair. five feet, four inches tall. of a petite, slender stature with subtle curves and long hair. has a long silvery scar on her back. her skin is clean of any tattoos. has both earlobes pierced. requires glasses but wears contacts most days. is right-handed.

psychology. aries zodiac. fire element. ravenclaw house. istp-a. true neutral. type seven enneagram. choleric temperament. intra-personal intelligence type. addicted to alcohol, tobacco, and cannabis. suffers from addiction and abandonment issues. her vices are lust, greed and wrath. her virtues are ... ( again ) honestly, probably just diligence tbh.

background.

possible triggers   :   child abandonment, abandonment issues, foster homes, alcohol, drugs, violence, gore, blood, murder, & death.

a synopsis.   ok so for this gal, let’s all give a big, warm welcome to sadness ( no, i was in no way at all inspired by salem from sabrina for that line ) bc boy oh boy, her life has been constant grief and pain, tbh. strap in for the bumpy ride, i’ll give u cookies for compensation. OK SO, camille was abandoned as a baby, never did—and still doesn't—know her biological parents and she doesn’t want to either, tbh. she bounced around from foster home to foster home, never sticking in one place for too long. given her turbulent upbringing, she was somewhat of a difficult child. too boisterous, too unruly, too stubborn, too inquisitive. too much of everything but never enough of anything. never enough for anybody to want her. it didn’t take the girl too long to figure out that it was just her alone, against the big bad world. from the age that she was old enough to realise it, camille knew that she had to fend for herself—that she could never truly rely on a single soul but herself. the hollowness inside her chest never quite satiated, leaving her empty and only too well aware of the lack of her real parental figures. as a young adolescent, this started to crawl under her skin and mess with her mind. it rendered her void of affection and unable to form genuine bonds with others—filling her with deep-rooted resentment that festered beneath the surface of the indifferent demeanour she plastered over herself every day. she always felt starved of love: as if some integral part of her heart was missing, leaving a gaping void that nobody could ever fill. anywho, she fell in with the wrong crowd which did little to aid her foster families hostility toward her. truthfully, most of her experiences in various homes were ... not pleasant. she’d encountered abusive ‘parents,’ horrible ‘siblings,’ and even worse schooling days. pressing the self-destruct button is this gal’s speciality thus she found herself gravitating towards her vices: things and people she knew were no good for her. drink, drugs, people, you name it. quickly, she realised that these things were no longer any good at keeping her dark side at bay: she needed something more, something deeper. thus, she began going down the road of petty crimes—stealing cars, smashing windows, theft, setting fires both metaphorically and literally. due to this lifestyle, she wound up entangled with some real shady folk who did … even shadier things. most specifically, she started dating a real jackass who was violent and truthfully, a horrible person, really. stupidly, she decided to run off into the metaphorical sunset with him * insert eye roll emoji here. * so, fast forward a year or so and things took a swift nosedive when her lowlife boyfriend’s hands were round her throat and not in the kinky way. while she’d clawed at him and tried to fight him off, she struggled against his weight and strength until, eventually, she lifted the first makeshift weapon she felt: a rusted pair of scissors. [ TRIGGER FOR VIOLENCE, GORE, BLOOD, MURDER, DEATH ] and, in a blind state of panic, she jammed them right into his jugular vein, his blood squirting out and decorating her face in crimson splatters. he’d stumbled backwards, clutched onto his neck, blood spurting from the webs between his fingers. naturally, camille was shook about this but somehow managed to flee the scene with less guilt rattling her soul than she’d imagined. [ TRIGGER OVER ] in her mind, it was an act of self defence. it wasn’t too long after the incident that she found herself in a rather perilous situation that resulted in her sudden realisation that she needed to get her damn life on track. therefore, she done the responsible adult thing and got herself a decent education. somehow, she managed to get into university where her life started to shape into a positive one—the kind she’d always dreamed of. once she graduated, camille decided that she wanted to see the world. following a couple of years travelling, she wound up in santa ysabel where she quickly fell into the employment of mayhem. admittedly, this was a far cry from the future she’d envisioned when she was just a sweet, innocent lil child. still, all in all, she kind of digs who she is and what she is: after everything she’s been through, she loves herself. it’s been a long and winding road but camille finally believes that she’s settled in her life now. tho she still refuses to let people in, her abandonment issues terrifying her to the degree that she feels that anybody she’d ever let into her life would eventually leave her in the end. * insert sad face emoji here. *

random extras.

her tell? playing with her hair: when she’s lying, nervous, flirting—you name it!

can drink any man under the table. 

she loves art in every form: paintings, sculptures, music, dance, people, etc. she loves the freedom that expressing herself through these mediums gives her.

she’s ... experimental. she’s experimented with just about everything: hairstyles, clothing, drink, drugs, people ...

can be hella calculating and vindictive so do not cross her.

quite power-hungry tbh.

she does have a shot at redemption but she doesn’t want it lmao. she’s already been to hell so why bother trying to right her wrongs?

and boy, are her wrongs a century-long list shkjsh.

high key is not above killing people who don’t do things her way.

doesn’t believe she’s capable of loving anyone.

she’s lowkey a perfectionist to the point of being ruthless, also cutthroat and egotistical.

if ya ain’t of use to her, then what the heck is ur purpose???

she’s v ambitious, v morally ambiguous, v self-serving and v self-involved.

she can be ... aggressive sometimes and most definitely has anger issues.

dry sense of humour one million per cent.

her signature look is her blood-red lips.

extremely skilled with knives and blades. and always carries one on her person at all times.

her most prized possession is her brushed chrome zippo lighter. it has her initials engraved into it and where she got it from, or who is something she’ll never tell.

always says she needs to quit smoking but never does and probably never will either.

did someone say ... resting bitch face???

tho when she smiles it’s like sunshine uwu

high key will sleep with anyone.

first place is the ONLY acceptable place, ok??? 

one of those people who just excels at everything she tries her hand at.

absolutely adores animals. much prefers them to humans.

she’s quite adventurous and loves to feel the adrenaline in her blood.

doesn’t take herself or her life too seriously.

always up for a good time and is usually the life of the party.

outspoken and quick-witted with a sharp tongue.

much too sassy and sarcastic for her own good.

really, she does what she wants to, when she wants to, without seeking the approval of others.

truthfully? she’s a bit of a spitfire if you really irk her. so, watch out.

you can find a pinterest board for her by clicking anywhere here.

[allthephils]

Three is the Magic Number

Hey! I should never use the word soon. Anywho, Here is some shameless self indulgent smut simply because I was not ready to say goodbye to these 3 lovelies. I hope you have enjoyed the fic! Thank you for reading. 

Rated E (Smut, Threesome, friends to lovers) Word Count: 27,360 (complete)

Read on AO3          Read from the beginning.

Excerpt: Checking himself out in the mirrored wall of the lobby, Miguel smiles and slips off his coat. Joy looks good on him. He’s wearing skinny dark blue jeans, rolled to show a little ankle above his vintage wingtips. He chose a slim black jumper that contrasts beautifully with the shock of color on his neck. He’s dressed for a date, the kind that takes place in a nice restaurant with candlelight and shared bites of food. In reality, he knows these clothes will be strewn about Dan’s hardwood floor within the hour.

Epilogue

It’s been six months since the night Miguel stumbled into Dan and Phil’s flat, bleeding and oblivious to what was ahead of him. They’ve had a standing lunch date ever since he stood them up on their third date. Every Wednesday, they show Miguel a new spot to eat and kill a few hours talking and laughing and exchanging creative ideas. He doesn’t deliver pizzas anymore, having finally amassed enough freelance work to pay the bills, just barely. A real Londoner now, he rides the tube and owns his very own peacoat. Paris is a dream for long weekends when he can squirrel away enough cash for the train and he doesn’t mind. He thinks he’s found his home right where he is.

 They got pizza this last Wednesday, at a posh little place where they give you scissors to cut the pie. Phil said it was in honor of the anniversary of the day they met, if a few days early. When the pizza was brought to the table, Phil stood and took their server aside. He wouldn’t let anyone eat till she came back and handed him a lighter. Dan whined like he hadn’t eaten in days but was rendered speechless when Phil produced a candle from his pocket. It was shaped like the number three and he stuck it right into the cheese, nudging a pepperoni aside.

 Dan snatched the lighter from Phil’s hand, muttering about not letting him burn the place down before he’s eaten.

 “I don’t get it,” Miguel said, smiling, “I thought it was our 6 month?”

 Phil wiggled in his chair. “It is! The 6 month anniversary of our threesome!” He laughed way harder than was called for. Dan groaned and rolled his eyes but Miguel grinned and blushed and blew out the candle.

 ***

Dan had texted him the door code while they were eating. And Phil followed up with a very Philcentric text about his phone self destructing in 5...4...3...2…

That night, 6 months ago to the day now, he couldn’t believe how they’d trusted him. This though, inviting him over after everything that has happened, telling him to let himself in, he can’t help feeling like he’s found his London family.

 Checking himself out in the mirrored wall of the lobby, Miguel smiles and slips off his coat. Joy looks good on him. He’s wearing skinny dark blue jeans, rolled to show a little ankle above his vintage wingtips. He chose a slim black jumper that contrasts beautifully with the shock of color on his neck. He’s dressed for a date, the kind that takes place in a nice restaurant with candlelight and shared bites of food. In reality, he knows these clothes will be strewn about Dan’s hardwood floor within the hour.

 Miguel isn’t exactly ostentatious but it takes quite a bit of restraint not to let his excitement bubble to the surface. He feels like his skin is vibrating and he’s still smiling despite being completely alone in the foyer. He’s just waiting for the nervous prickling in his stomach to subside. It’s not a bad nervous, it’s just different now that so much time has passed. Dan and Phil and Miguel are friends now, real close friends. And there’s the small detail of Dan and Phil’s relationship. They’re properly together now and as far as Miguel knows, they haven’t been with anyone but each other since the last time with Miguel. So yeah, no pressure. He has no idea what to expect but there’s only one way to find out. He runs a hand through his hair, pulls at the hem of his jumper, and after one last look at himself, starts the familiar walk to the door. It shuts behind him and he turns to make sure it’s locked, hanging his coat on the rack. The flat looks empty but he has a fair idea of where to find his hosts.

 “Dan?” He calls out as he heads down the hall. “Phil?” It’s all very real now, his heart is beating like a drum and he wipes his hands on his jeans to be sure they aren’t sweaty. Deep breaths Miguel. Muffled voices float on the air around him, then the familiar lilt of a soft laugh from Dan and his nerves settle a bit. The door is open only a crack and warm light spills through, inviting him in.

 Two nights, that’s all he spent here. It’s hard to believe when he considers the bond he built with these two, all the things he learned about himself. Meeting Dan and Phil was the beginning of Miguel feeling like he actually belonged here. He’s feeling awfully warm and grateful for someone who’s about to take part in such a libertine affair. He shakes his head, laughing at himself as he pushes the door open.

 There are perhaps too many candles. Miguel suspects Phil had a hand in that. It’s beautiful though, flickering flames on every surface surround the bed. Dan’s grey armchair, usually sitting unused in the corner, has been pulled out and positioned a few feet from the bed at an angle clearly intended to allow for the best view. And oh dear lord what a view it is.

 They’re both in their pants. Miguel slips off his shoes, he’s clearly got some catching up to do. He hadn’t forgotten how good they look like this but having a normal, daytime friendship has required a certain amount of polite repression. Phil is too busy working his lips over Dan’s neck to look up but Dan looks at Miguel and smiles.

 “Happy anniversary.” He says with his dimples on full display. “Have a seat.” He gestures to the chair and Miguel raises an eyebrow.

 “Oh, do I get to watch?” Miguel makes himself comfortable in the chair. “Hi Phil.”

 Phil mumbles a hello without losing focus on the far more important task of tasting every inch of Dan’s neck.

 “Phil thought,” Dan grunts softly, tilting his head to give more access. He exhales before starting again, “Phil thought it might be fun for you to…” a sharp inhale as Phil moves lower, “watch. Us. And maybe…” a hiss when Phil bites down above his collarbone, “join us when you can’t resist anymore.”

 Phil thought, of course he did. He’s already putting on a show, proving how he knows Dan now, how this last piece of them to sync has finally come together. Miguel knew from the start but he’s not complaining and he’s not surprised. It’s not like Phil’s been subtle, he’s not exactly modest when it comes this part of his life. So he watches. He watches Phil drag his fingers over Dan’s rib cage and catches the shiver that follows. He watches him swipe over Dan’s nipple before taking it between his thumb and forefinger and pinching. Hard. He can see the smile bloom in Phil’s cheek as Dan throws his head back and groans.

 “You guys have been practicing.” Miguel means to tease them but it comes out breathy and just so turned on.

 Phil is kissing slowly over Dan’s chest now, his eyes shifted sharply to the side, locked on Miguel. Miguel bites his lip and rucks his jumper up a bit further.

 “Take that off.” Phil’s growl startles Miguel. It’s the first time he’s pulled away from Dan enough to speak clearly. Miguel stands up and pulls his jumper off, looking right at Phil, loving this game they’re playing. He leans back on the arm of the chair and palms his half hard dick through his jeans. Slipping his hand behind Dan’s neck, Phil guides him up so he can see. Miguel traces a path over his inked rib cage, chest, and neck, over ravens and roses and bones. He knows Dan loves them, the colors, the stories behind them, and the pain it took to get them. Dan stares, following his teasing fingers, his eyes hooded and dark. Still, his smile is so charming, even with red and bitten lips. He doesn’t even have to try, charming is Dan’s default. Phil watches him watch Miguel for just a moment before leaning in for a kiss.

 Of all the things they’ve done and will do, this is the one that makes Miguel go weak in the knees. Those soft lips meeting, a quick glimpse of Dan’s tongue as it darts out to meet Phil’s, their fingers tugging at each other’s hair as they move deeper into each other. Their kisses were the sexiest thing he’d ever been a witness to and this is even hotter, more intimate, more knowing. But this time, he’s invited. This kiss didn’t take them by surprise and he’s got nothing to feel awkward or guilty about. He’s free to enjoy the sound of their quickening breaths and the wet smack of their lips. The thing he loves most though is the soft but undeniable sound of Dan, whimpering into Phil’s mouth. It’s a sound so real, so unrestrained and desperate. Miguel doesn’t just hear it, he feels it, a tingle across his skin, a thrum in his heart, and a pulsing beat in his cock. There’s no hesitation this time, nothing complicated to consider, just pure unadulterated want for both of them.

 When Dan leans back, he takes Phil with him, pulling him down on top of him. He’s clawing at Phil’s back, pushing his hips up into Phil’s, biting his lips. He looks so hungry. Miguel hasn’t seen this side of him. He’s not thinking, he’s not asking or waiting. There’s no sign of self consciousness, not even a shred of reservation. He’s shameless. Suddenly, Miguel wants very badly to be the thing between him and Phil. He wants to know what he’ll do to get through him. He wants a taste of the urgency he’s witnessing.

 There’s a clank of metal as Miguel unbuckles his belt. He pops open the button on his jeans and lowers the zipper. Phil throws a leg over Dan and sits up, straddling him.  He’s dragging fingers over Dan’s skin, looking him over, it’s clear he sat up to do just that. He just wants to look at Dan and touch him and slow down for a minute. Miguel feels that pang in his heart again, like the last time. These two make him not want to settle for less than this ever. All the love and connection and trust, all the lust and the unbelievable chemistry, and he gets to be here to soak it all in.

 Dan’s head turns to look at Miguel as he pushes his jeans down and steps out of them. He sends Dan a genuine smile, then for the first time, let’s his eyes wander down. They’re so well paired, long and lean and soft. Phil’s pale skin is the only thing that could actually make Dan seem tan. He’s actually a little bigger than Phil, broader and taller, but he doesn’t look it. He looks enveloped by Phil, so completely lost in his touch that he stares at Miguel for a good few seconds before he smiles again.

 Dan is beautiful, so gorgeous and tempting, but now that he’s let his eyes rake over them both, he remembers what Phil had done to him that first night. That dark trail of hair, his pants obscenely tight because they don’t make underwear that can contain his particular assets. His bulge is ridiculous, pornographic, and Miguel licks his lips, salivating a little. Somehow, he was also blessed with wide hips and a perfect, round ass. Doesn’t seem fair really. He sits back down because his legs are a little shaky now and the movement pulls Phil’s attention his way.

 “Touch yourself.” Phil says and the sound rolls through Miguel, a deep rumbling weapon of a voice that Phil knows exactly how to wield. He can practically feel his gaze on his skin as it moves up his legs, settles for a moment on his crotch, then moves slowly over his body, pausing at his lips before settling on his eyes.

 Miguel lifts his ass off the chair and pushes his pants down, slowly, never breaking eye contact with Phil. He leans back, slouched naked in the chair, his legs spread wide. He runs his finger tips over his inner thigh and his hand comes to rest just before he reaches the base of his cock. Phil is palming himself through his boxers and gently rolling his hips to give Dan a little friction too. It seems Miguel’s not the only one watching. Three can play at this game.

 Phil’s eyes flit down to that hand, so deliciously close to such a pretty dick. He lifts his brows and nods as if to say get on with it then. Miguel just throws his other arm behind his head.

 “Make me.” He says, one brow cocked, his lips curled into a devious smirk.

 It’s enough of a surprise to pull Dan from his foreplay induced trance with a snort of laughter.  Phil shimmies down off the bed, pursing his lips, a twinkle in his eye “Oh you are gonna regret that,” he growls.

 “Oh!” Phil has grabbed both of Dan’s ankles and is pulling him to the edge of the bed. Within moments, Dan’s pants are on the floor. He sends Miguel a wink as Phil lifts his own waistband over his erection and soon he’s naked too. There are miles of skin now, gorgeous and smooth and looking so ready to be touched. Phil’s cock is utterly distracting, long and thick and bobbing there in front of Dan. He wraps both hands around it. Miguel is trying to focus, to appear aloof. He thought, with their history, he could keep his cool but the thread of his resolve is swiftly fraying.

 Every nerve in Miguel’s body is pushing him to stand, move toward them, put his lips somewhere, anywhere. He heaves a deep determined breath and watches Phil cup Dan’s face in his hand.

 “What do you want, love?”

 Dan tips his head back, looking up at Phil, “Suck me.” Those words send a jolt through Miguel.

 The look on Phil’s face is positively smug, his bottom lip sucked in to suppress a more obvious display of giddy satisfaction. He drops to his knees and leans up to kiss Dan, so soft but so very deep. God, it’s beautiful. It’s fun and it’s hot and it’s dirty but the light and this place and these two, Miguel takes a moment to enjoy the juxtaposition. Sitting back on his heels, Phil bends forward, holding Dan’s rosy cock in one hand. His lips are just a centimeter from the head when he turns his face toward Miguel. He stares for a few seconds before giving a few slow licks. Dan groans and Phil smiles.

 “Can you see ok, Miguel?” He says, cheeks pink in the flickering light, flirtation pulling at the corners of his perfect mouth, “Wouldn’t want you to miss anything.”

 “I’m…” It comes out as barely a croak and Miguel clears his throat. “I’m good.”

 “Sure you don’t want to give yourself just a little relief?” Phil says while planting kisses up Dan’s length.

 Even with all the candles, the light is dim enough that they probably won’t catch the flush moving over Miguel’s chest but there’s no hiding the erratic pattern of his breathing. He can’t hide the way his cock is fully hard now either, or the way it bobs up all on its own, searching for the relief its stubborn owner isn’t giving.

 Long, elegant fingers move through Phil’s hair, tugging as he finally takes Dan into his mouth. The wet slide of his lips is an obscene sound in the silence of the room as Dan disappears into him. All eyes are on Phil, watching him work, pulling gentle moans and softly spoken strings of fuck Phil, baby, just like that, from Dan.

 Baby. The word leaves no room for ambiguity. They belong to one another and knowing that, knowing he’s here with them because they want him to join in on what they have together, that is just so hot. Miguel’s fingers twitch, desperate to give in to Phil’s directive. He sits up a bit, tips his head back defiantly, hiding behind affected bravado.

 Phil’s eyes open and he holds Dan’s leaking tip close to his lips as he speaks. “Wouldn’t it feel so good,” blue eyes dart up to meet Miguel’s and his gravelly tone goes impossibly deep, “to stroke your cock?”

 Miguel takes himself in hand before he even knows he’s doing it. “¡Tu ganaste! Me rindo. Me rindo. I give up!” He leaps to his feet.

 Phil laughs, his tongue poking out, playfully enjoying his victory. He throws his fists into the air. “Yes!” He shouts, “I win. Now get over here and make out with my boyfriend.”

 Miguel moves to the bed next to a giggling Dan and climbs right into his lap. They take in the sight of each other, the rush of this night pausing for a moment.

 “Hola.” Miguel says, “It’s nice to see you from this angle again.” Miguel takes just enough time to hold Dan’s face in his hands before smashing their mouths together. It’s far more aggressive than the kisses they’ve shared in the past but the restraint he’s shown so far and the way his dick is cuddled up with Dan’s has him feeling rather impatient. If they stay here, they’ll end up grinding against one another and cumming before they’ve even gotten started. Hoping to prolong the sweet agony he’s feeling, Miguel pushes Dan back onto the bed and climbs up toward the pillows, laying on his side as Dan scoots ups to meet him and bring their lips back together.

 ***

 Phil is still sat on the floor. As much as he aches for release, he’s in no hurry. The view is phenomenal. Miguel’s head is tipped back to reach Dan without interrupting the perfect alignment they’ve found. They look so fresh and young together, their legs tangled together. It takes Phil back to so many years ago, alone in the dark of his room watching tattooed boys in love and emo boyfriends, searching for some humanity amongst the porn. He’d touch himself to the sight of broad flat chests and muscled thighs, moving toward acceptance of something he’d always known about himself, shame melting away with the deep sighs coming through his headphones. His viewing habits are more goal oriented now.

 This is infinitely better though. These are not boys, these are men, good men with beautiful hearts and blemished skin. Stretch marks and freckles and hair make a far more compelling piece of art as far as Phil is concerned. Gratitude washes over him, for how far he’s come, for Dan, for Miguel, for self acceptance and love and sex and gorgeous naked men in his bed, the bed he shares with Dan every night.

 Miguel drags his lips over Dan’s jaw on his way to his neck where he nibbles a winding path. His responding whine is music and Phil stands to look down at these people he cares so much about. Dan opens his eyes and they share a smile only they could.

 “You coming, baby?” He asks so sweetly.

 Phil nods and lays himself down behind Dan, fitting their bodies together, his legs weaving into their braid of limbs. Dan’s neck is warm against his lips. He tastes of spices and soil, of far off places and possibilities all while always tasting like home. Phil let’s it all in and he’s drunk on it, kissing and licking till his nose is nudging Miguel’s cheek and their lips meet. It’s clumsy, kissing suspended over Dan, but it doesn’t matter. Phil’s hand finds Miguel’s hip, runs up over his ribs, down his back, slowly, so slowly over his ass. Gripping, he pulls him closer to Dan and Dan closer to Phil, the three of them in his hands. Dan’s head rests back on Phil’s shoulder and he moans, pushing back against the familiar shape of Phil’s cock as it slides along the cleft of his ass.

 Phil twists around to grab the lube and a strip of condoms so goes back to work on Dan’s neck. Phil watches him move over it till their kissing again, insatiable, choosing that over any other option. His fingers slick with lube, he slides a hand between he and Dan and presses a finger to his hole.

 “Mmm, yes.” Dan mumbles into Miguel’s mouth.

 Soon Phil has two fingers inside, opening Dan like he has so many times. Dan shudders and moans and soon whines, “Please.”

 “Turn around babe.” Phil whispers in his ear.

 Miguel takes a condom from Phil as Dan rotates between them. He holds a hand out for the lube but Phil reaches past Dan and wraps a slippery hand around Miguel, covering the condom in lube. Stroking him loosely, he takes a moment to appreciate something he knows he only gets rarely, to relish in Miguel’s shape, his small stifled moans, deeper than Dan’s, to enjoy the particular shade of brown in his eyes before they flutter shut.

 Dan writhes between them so Phil moves one hand to tease a hard nipple, the other hikes Dan’s knee up as their lips find each other. Before Miguel can ask, Dan is begging and so, watching the two of them kiss, he nudges Dan’s hole with the tip of his cock and pushes inside.

 “Oh Dan,” Miguel says on a breath, “you feel so…” He doesn’t finish. The words are lost to a sigh, swallowed by Dan’s long satisfied moan as Miguel moves in and out of him. There’s so much heat between them, Dan holding on for dear life, kissing Phil hard and deep and wrapping his legs around him. Sweat and precome make an easy slide as their cocks move against each other, rocking instinctually. Phil’s fingers dig into Miguel’s hip, his taut ass working as he fucks into Dan.

 The heat and the sound and the primal scent filling the air has Phil losing his sense of humor, his cocky confidence. All there is now is heady arousal and want and instinct to keep moving, keep feeling, keep tasting. Soon Dan’s kisses slow and turn more teeth than lips and Phil knows he’s close.

 “Yes baby.” Phil coos into Dan’s mouth. “Let go, love.”

 Dan nuzzles into Phils neck biting down as he cums, spilling onto both of them as Phil pushes his fingers into his curls and pulls. Not long after, Miguel stills deep inside of Dan, his eyes squeeze shut, and his hands scramble to Phils shoulders, digging his nails in.

 Phil grinds frantically against Dan but soon there are long, knowing fingers wrapping around him. Their faces close, Dan brings him over the edge with words and strokes and tiny kisses and smiles.

 ***

 Afterword they fall into each other, tangled and sweaty. They whisper things that only they will ever know. Phil cleans himself hastily with tissues from the nightstand and promptly falls asleep. When Dan gets in the shower, Miguel joins him. He’d like to check in, make sure things are OK, and he feels like he’s earned the privilege of lathering up this particular man.

 They never miss a Wednesday lunch date unless one of them is out of town. They’ve already found more common ground than they would have thought possible given their disparate backgrounds. Their friendship only grows closer as the weeks go by. Phil thinks they should hook up whenever the mood strikes them but Miguel suggests a standing date, just like lunch. He wants to be sure their friendship comes first, he doesn’t want to get too comfortable. They settle on a sleepover every three months, a quarterly tryst. It’s just enough space to keep them grateful. They don’t discuss how many nights they have left together but they all know it won’t last forever. Miguel will meet someone, someone who loves him for the incredible person he is. And when he does, that will be it. He’ll want to focus all his affections on whoever that person turns out to be.

 He’ll be something special. He’ll have to be. He’ll have to appreciate the thoughtful way Miguel relates to the world and he’ll need to match his talent for empathy lest Miguel end up doing all the emotional labor in the relationship. And he’ll have to trust him enough to be OK with the fact that he used to fuck his two best friends. The right person will stand by his side years from now when he publishes his memoir. There will be a couple of pretty saucy chapters about two nameless nerds who taught Miguel about love and friendship and self acceptance in a way he never expected. And of course, there will be a few pages about the things he helped them learn too.

[fixxofvixx]

TEACHING VIXX - CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Hey y'all. So Ravi’s got purple/pink hair….I feel bad for his hair but I kinda love it!

Anywho, I was gonna post this tomorrow but their new hairstyles got me excited!!

I hope you enjoy and comments are always welcome!

Thanks for reading!!

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“Taekwoon.”

Nothing.

“Taekwoon~.”

Still nothing.

You tried to move the heavy arm that was wound around your stomach but it wouldn’t budge. You had to pee so bad but he wouldn’t let go. You tried pinching his skin but he still wouldn’t move.

“Taekwoon, let go. I need to get up!”

He finally stirred and nuzzled his head into your shoulder. Gaining hope, you tried to move his arm again but he held you even tighter.

“Jung Taekwoon!!”

You felt the exhale of his chuckle in your hair and you smacked his arm.

“I like you where you’re at. So stay right there.” He sounded half asleep. You assumed that he wasn’t quite comprehending the situation so you tried to bargain with him.

“I will. As soon as you let me up long enough to go to the bathroom. I’ll come right back and we can keep cuddling. Okay?”

“No.” You could hear the pout in his voice and you almost gave up. But the urge to pee came back with avengance and you desperately tried to struggle out of his arms. The movement was making matters worse so you decided on a new tactic. You remembered what his mother had said about his stage name and using it if he was annoying you. You had no idea what it would do so you gave him one last chance.

“Come on, Taekwoon, just five minutes.” You tried lifting his arm but it tightened back around you like a steel band. Fine.

“Leo, let go!”

You felt his body go deathly still and heard a sharp intake of air. When you tried to move his arm this time, there was no resistance. You move away and looked back at him. His arm flopped to the bed and didn’t move to grab you. He looked at you and narrowed his eyes.

“Get back over here and undo this.” His green eyes darkened and your heart skipped a beat. He looked greatly annoyed but you didn’t know if it was because you had moved or the fact that he couldn’t. He didn’t look paralyzed exactly but that he didn’t have the strength to move.

“I don’t even know what I did! Your mom just told me to say that if you weren’t listening! She didn’t say how you would react.

"Just undo it!” He seemed to be able to move his head just fine but his body lay still.

“Okay, hang on!” You ran to the bathroom to take care of what you needed to. You almost felt bad for leaving him but it was his fault for not letting go sooner. There was no way you could stay there a second longer.

While you were washing your hands, you tried to figure out what exactly you’d done. His mother had told you not to do it while he was driving or something like that and you now understood why. It was like it rendered him completely helpless.

You hurried back into the room to see that he had managed to roll onto his back. He was breathing deeply as if he was trying to hold in his anger. You hesitated going closer.

“Come here.”

“I-I’m…I don’t…” You took a step closer but still far enough away from the bed, just in case. You took a deep breath and chided yourself for being slightly afraid. This was Taekwoon. He wasn’t going to do anything. Right?

“Look, I had no idea what calling you by your stage name would do. I really had to pee and you wouldn’t let go and I panicked.”

He laughed and you sighed in relief. He wasn’t mad at you. He moved his head slowly to look at you. His green eyes were still dark but at least they weren’t red.

Suddenly, a light bulb went off in your head. He couldn’t move. That fact gave you courage to move closer to the bed. He followed your movement but his eyes gave away that he could tell what you were thinking. You smiled and climbed onto the bed. Moving closer to him, you threw one leg over his waist, effectively straddling him. You could feel his abdominal muscles clench at the feeling of you on top of him. You leaned down, crossing your arms atop his chest and laid your head on your forearms.

“So, explain this to me.”

“Undo it first. As much as I love you on top of me, I need control of my limbs. I want to touch you.”

“Huh-uh, I want an explanation first.” You unfolded your arms and poked his cheeks. He moved his head to try and bite your finger but you were quicker. He grimaced and rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Some hybrids have alternative names. Me, Hakyeon, Jaehwan, and Wonshik fall under that category.”

“Not Hyuk?” You idly ran your fingertips over his collarbone and he took a deep breath.

“No thats just a shortened version. But our alternative names give our significant other a sort of….power of us. It only works if very strong feelings are involved. To undo it, you just say that name again.”

“Really? Very interesting.” You smoothed your fingers over his cheeks and pinched them slightly.

“Its not to be abused, though.” His eyes flashed and you grinned.

“Of course not. Only when you’re being a bad hamzzi.” You poked his cheeks again resulting in his eyes turning red.

“I am not a hamster.”

“Aww, but I like it when you are.” You frowned and kissed his cheek. He leaned his head into your touch but you backed away. “Well, I suppose there’s nothing I can do about it.”

You removed yourself from his waist and stood up.

“Where are going?”

“I’m hungry. You used up all my energy earlier.” You winked at him and walked towards the door.

“(Y/N),” You name came out as a deep growl and you had to force yourself not to turn around and jump back on him. “Undo it. Now.”

“I will. I’ll bring us both some food back. Just remember this the next time you wont let me get up to pee.” You waggled your finger at him, playfully scolding him. You had to turn away from the look on his face. If you had lingered on it, surely you would have been on the floor.

After about twenty minutes, you had just finished loading a couple of plates with food to take back to the room when the hair on the back of your neck stood up. Electricity pulsed and in the room and you knew you were in trouble. You calmly set the plates down and eyed the door in front of you which led to the outside. You’d probably never make it but you still wanted to try. Anticipation mixed with the adrenaline now pumping through your bloodstream and your breath quickened. You wondered if this was how prey felt out in the wild when they were being stalked by predators. You thought about pretending he wasn’t there but you knew your heartbeat had already given you away. However, you didn’t dismiss the possibility of distraction.

You grabbed one of the now empty containers with a shaky hand and pretended to close the lid down on it. You fumbled it in your fingers and let it drop to the floor, causing it to clang loudly. As soon as it dropped you took off, hoping his focus would be on what you dropped.

You made it to the door and gripped the doorknob when two large hands smacked the wood on either side of your head. Effectively caged in and trapped, your breathing grew erratic. He stepped closer, crowding against your back and placing you flush against the door. His breath was hot against your ear and you shuddered.

“I forgot to tell you that it eventually wears off.” His lips grazed your ear with each word and heat pooled in your belly. You tried to turn but there was no room to move. Your hand gripped the doorknob tightly to try and keep your body from shaking so much. Taekwoon had a way of reducing you to a puddle of goo with just a few words and you loved it. You loved him. And you loved it when he played around like this. You tried to swallow despite your dry throat.

“Well, that would have been nice information.” You leaned your head back so that it was against his chest. The rumble in his chest resembled more of a purr than a growl.

“But then I wouldn’t get to chase you.” He whispered low in your ear and your whole body shook. His tongue flicked out and ran over your tattoo and your knees buckled. His arms were fast to wrap around your waist and haul you against him. He hummed against your skin, satisfied with you reaction. His lips traveled down your neck until he found a patch of skin that he particularly liked and pulled it into his mouth. His action elicited a whimper from you and he pulled you closer to his chest.

“If this is the reaction I get, I may have to abuse that power. Next time you’ll have to give me a better head start though.” You smiled as he chuckled into your shoulder.

“You don’t have to use the power, though. I’ll chase you whenever you want.”

You leaned your head back so you could see his eyes. The green glowed brightly and you were lost in them. It amazed you at how much love you always saw in them. How was this even possible? How did you get this lucky?

“Well if you just chase me, you have an unfair advantage. How am I supposed to compete?”

One of his hands came from around your waist to turn you in his arms. Once your back was fully against the door, he pressed into you even more.

“You know I don’t like to lose. You’ll just have to get creative.” His lips lowered to your neck and placed a trail of light kisses all the way across your collarbone. Your hands went under his shirt and pressed against the skin of his back. You received a low hum in response. He raised his head to look at you before sealing his lips over yours. It was slow, deep, and wonderful. He didn’t linger long there, however, and quickly made his way to your shoulder again. He curved an arm around your waist to pull you even further against him.

Suddenly his head lifted off you shoulder and he looked back towards the main door to the kitchen. Seconds later you heard a knock at the door to the common area. You involuntarily tensed, not knowing what to expect.

“Its okay. Its a family friend.” He removed himself from you and took your hand in his. You followed behind him, taking a moment to smooth your hair down and fix your clothes.

Taekwoon opened the door to the house and smiled, revealing an elderly man in simple, traditional clothing. Looking at his face, you saw that his eyes were green. Panther hybrid.

“Ah, there you are! I wasn’t sure if you would hear me or not. I apologize for interrupting your time together.” The man snickered and you blushed.

“I suppose I can forgive you.” Taekwoon sighed playfully and the man laughed.

“JinOh told me that he’d seen people at the Jung house and I assumed that it was your parents. When I came closer, I realized that it was you and a friend.” He peeked around Taekwoon to smile at you. “She’s yours?”

Taekwoon looked around at you and his eyes softened. He shook his head.

“No, I’m hers. She calls the shots.” Taekwoon smiled and tugged you until you stood beside him. “(Y/N), this is Lee JangPil, he’s a panther elder. He looks over the area and a lot of panther hybrids go to him for advice.”

“Yes, well, it should be the woman calling the shots anyway, right my dear? Us fellows would be lost without you. Oh, and your a handler to boot! It is certainly a pleasure to meet you.” He bowed and you returned the gesture.

“Would you like to come in? I can make some tea or coffee?” You smiled as you backed up to allow him room to come in.

“That would be lovely, my dear. Thank you.” He walked in and took a seat in the common area of the house. You went off to the kitchen to prepare some tea, and coffee for Taekwoon, of course. You picked up the container you had dropped earlier and set it back on the counter. You took some of the food that you had grabbed earlier and arranged it to serve as snacks on a tray.

Walking back into the common area, you saw Taekwoon and JangPil laughing quietly. You placed the tea tray on a side table and handed Taekwoon his coffee. JangPil took a tea cup and sipped on the contents.

“Oh, this is good. Miss (Y/N), since Taekwoon here has been lucky enough to convince you to put up with him, I wonder if you would adopt an old grandfather as well?” You laughed as he sweet-talked you. He reminded you of your grandfather on your mother’s side who had passed when you were in middle school.

“I believe that can be arranged.”

“Come, come, you must sit next to me. Taekwoon can have you back later.” He waved you over to sit next to him on the bench and you obliged. Once you were seated next to him, he took both of your hands in his. He closed his eyes for a moment and you looked at Taekwoon. He nodded indicating that everything was fine. JangPil eventually opened his eyes and looked sad.

“Oh, my dear sweet girl, you have already been through so much in your young life. I hope the terrors you have endured have not put you against all hybrids.” He looked into your eyes and you smiled.

“Of course not. I have known more hybrids that are good more than I have known bad. But, may I ask how you know? Did Taekwoon tell you?”

“Ah, I apologize. I should have asked permission. I am able to see certain things in a person’s life. I am not able to see the future, unfortunately, but I can see what some people have gone through in the past. Since you are a handler and obviously connected to Taekwoon, I can easily read you. Did I make you uncomfortable?” He patted your hand and smiled sweetly.

“No, no, I was just wondering. It doesn’t bother me at all.” You returned his smile.

“Good, good. Taekwoon, my boy, you have a treasure here.” He paused and looked at the young panther. “Don’t muck it up. If you do, I’ll have to take her away from you.” He looked back at you and winked.

“Oh, believe me, she’s not getting away.” Taekwoon’s statement made you blush but you felt happy.

“See that she doesn’t. She’s going to be a wonderful mother one day.” Your head snapped up at his comment. Your heart felt happy that he approved of you so quickly.

“I know. Hopefully sooner rather than later.” Your eyes went wide this time and flicked over to see Taekwoon grinning. The look he was giving you told you that he would make you pregnant right now if you’d let him.

“All in good time, I’m sure.”

After catching up with Taekwon for about a half hour, the older man stood, Taekwoon and you following after him in respect. “I must be going. JinOh gets anxious if I’m gone too long. Please come and visit when you are back this way again. Oh and Taekwoon? Try not to scare JinOh so much next time. The poor thing is traumatized.”

“Hey, he scared her first. I was just protecting what’s mine. I didn’t know that was JinOh.”

“Yes, well, fair enough. He tends to get a little protective of the area. I’ll tell him you’re sorry anyway.” He winked at Taekwoon and made his way out of the front door. It took you a second to realize what they were talking about.

“JinOh’s a dog? The dog from yesterday?!”

“Yeah, he’s JangPil’s companion. JinOh’s from a really long line of dogs that can communicate with hybrids. It takes a lot of work and practice but eventually you can talk to them.” Taekwoon explained as he walked with JangPil to the front drive of the house.

“That’s really cool!”

“It is nice be able to talk with him. Sometimes it gets a little lonely around here and they have a completely different view of the world. JinOh and his mate should be expecting some pups next year. If you want one, just let me know.” JangPil waved to you both and took off down the road.

“Oh, Taekwoon! Wouldn’t it be nice to have a dog you can talk to?!”

He didn’t answer so you looked over to him. He was already looking at you. His eyes very slowly started to glow and your heart picked up speed.

Apparently, he still wanted to play.