𖤐𝔖𝔞𝔩𝔢𝔪𖤐

Two different people, two different lives. Yet somehow, his world collided with yours and now they’re intertwined, nearly impossible for one to exist without the other. It may seem like an exaggeration to any other person but for you, that’s just the truth. You can’t imagine your world without him in it and the same can be said for him as well when it comes to you.

Everything always feels so much better when he suddenly appears in your apartment. You’ve grown accustomed to the habit even though you offered to give him a copy of the key so he doesn’t have to sneak in undetected. Although to be fair, you like that he can suddenly be in front of you in the blink of an eye without even having to ask.

“I missed you,” you pout as you wrap your arms around his shoulders while his hands rest on your waist.

“Babygirl, you just saw me last night,” he says while smiling down at you and you just shrug your shoulders.

“So? Are you saying you didn’t miss me too?” you ask and he just shakes his head before resting his forehead against yours.

“Of course I missed you, my batty little angel,” he says while you smile widely.

You stand on your toes to kiss him as he pulls you closer to himself. His arms wrap around your waist holding you tightly as he deepens the kiss, stealing your breath away. You gasp for air when he pulls away and starts leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, sucking and licking the skin as well as teasing you with his teeth sending a shiver down your spine as you hold onto him tightly. His lips move down to your chest, spending some time on the skin exposed by your low-cut top and leaving some marks there as well. He grabs your thighs and lifts you up so he can put you right on the bathroom sink and stands between your legs as he claims your mouth with his own. He goes back to kissing, licking and sucking on your neck as he holds your thighs around his waist while your fingers curl and bunch the fabric at the back of his sweater. He can hear your heartbeat pounding in his ears as you allow yourself to submit to his touch and it reminds him of how grateful he is that you trust him enough to allow yourself to be vulnerable with him in a multitude of ways.

He may not say it but you’re no fool. You are aware of his unspoken vow to you that he will always do his best to be worthy of your love and trust. You can see it in the way he looks at you like you single handedly created the entire universe. You can hear it in the way he always expresses his gratitude for how you continue to allow him to be in your life, how you allow him to be so close to you as if it’s the greatest privilege any being could ever earn. You can feel it in the way he holds you as if you’ll disappear should he ever let go.

One hand snakes up to the back of your head, cradling it as he kisses you before curling his fingers, collecting a handful of your hair and tugging your head back. The corner of his mouth curls into a crooked smirk as your whimper fades into an unmistakable moan as he grinds his hips against yours, letting you feel him through your panties that are no doubt ruined by now.

“Not really an angel, are you?” he groans as you smile at him.

“I never said I was,” your response is cut off when his hand wraps around your neck and he applies just the right amount of pressure that makes your stomach twist with excitement.

He could do it. You both know that all it takes is one move for him to kill you. But the both of you also know that he won’t. It would be a lie to say the thought hadn’t crossed either one of your minds just how easy it would be if he really wanted to. It should scare you but it doesn’t because you know he won’t, that he would rather suffer for eternity than even consider doing such a thing. Knowing that he could but won’t sends a shiver down your spine, not with fear, but excitement.

“You have me wrapped around your finger and you know it,” he moans in your ear before leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, chest and stomach.

He sinks down to his knees and gently traces the tattoos on your thighs, admiring the intricate designs that permanently mark your skin. He looks up at you as he presses a gentle kiss to the small heart with devil horns and a tail on the inside of your thigh before sinking his teeth into the sensitive flesh. A high pitched moan escapes you as you let your head fall back, exposing the marks all over your neck, some from his mouth and others from his fingers. He lets go of your skin and runs his tongue over the fresh wound, lapping up all the blood until it stops and all that remains is the mark.

Your hands grip the edge of the counter as you watch him pull your panties off exposing your core. He doesn’t waste any time before his mouth is on you and he lets himself get lost in your taste and the sounds you make. Your thighs clamp around his head as his tongue runs between your folds and his fingers squeeze the soft flesh of your thighs.

He looks up at you and the sight is heavenly. Your eyes have fluttered shut and the soft moans slipping through your parted lips is better than any song ever made. One hand flies to his hair as his tongue circles your clit while the other stays gripping the edge of the sink. While one hand stays on your thigh, the other grabs your free hand and laces your fingers together as he allows himself to get lost between your thighs. You on the other hand allow yourself to fall headfirst over the edge as he devours you while also letting you know that this is about so much more than just sexual gratification for either of you.

He eases you through your climax and gently kisses the heart shaped strawberry you have tattooed on your lower stomach before standing at his full height and wraps one arm around your waist, pulling you close as his other hand goes to the back of your head as he buries his face in your neck. He doesn’t bite or even kiss you, just holding you close and feeling your skin against his own.

“What a beautiful creature you are,” he whispers into your skin, the sentiment making your heart soar.

“Promise me you’ll stay with me,” you plead, your voice breaking as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, grasping onto his sweater as you try to keep him close to you with your mere human strength.

He pulls away and looks at you with nothing but pure adoration and devotion. “You don’t even have to ask. I swear on my grave that I will stay with you until you decide I am no longer worthy of your love. I am yours, forever at your mercy,” he vows as he stares into your soul.

Your throat closes as your eyes prickle with tears of joy and you bury your face into his shoulder as you hold onto him as tight as you can. You don’t ever want to let him go. Your soul belongs to him just as his belongs to you.

ENDNOTES ─ to get notified as soon as possible, follow @faeslibrary turn on post notifications.

You can tell he wants to. His lingering stares on your neck, how his teeth grazes your skin and he growls as he forces himself to pull away before he can give in, not wanting to bite and drink from you. But what if you want him to? That might sound crazy to a normal person who definitely wasn’t a weird little freak but you don’t give a fat fuck.

Your heart races as he spends extra time on your neck, kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin, basking in the pleasured moans you emit letting him know he’s pushing the right buttons. You feel his teeth graze your skin and you can’t help but bite your lip as your stomach flutters with excitement.

The feeling is short-lived as he growls and pulls away, gripping your arms tightly as he tries to gather himself.

“Do it,” you say and he looks at you, frustrated and yet confused as well. “You can bite me. I want you to.”

“Angel, no. I can’t,” he groans as you pick up a butterfly knife sitting on the nightstand and hold it up while straddling his lap.

He watches in bewilderment as you drag the blade across your chest where your heart would be and his mouth waters at the sight of your blood trickling down your skin. His dark eyes gaze into yours as you nod and run your fingers through his ink black hair.

“Do you trust me?” you ask.

He looks between your blood and your eyes before nodding.

“With my entire being,” he replies and you smile.

“Then have a taste,” you say and his eyes once again become glued to the crimson rivulets escaping the fresh wound.

He holds your waist tightly as he brings his face closer to your chest, still hesitating until you run your fingers through his hair and leave your hand resting on the back of his head. He finally gives into his deepest desires and licks the blood on your skin all the way up to the clean cut on your chest, sucking on it until no more comes out. His fingers play with the hem of your shirt before he grabs the fabric and tears it to shreds, exposing your chest to his eyes darkened with lust and hunger. You moan as he sucks on your nipple until you’re grinding your hips against his, looking for release. He picks up the knife and holds the tip to your jaw, making your body go stiff as you look into his eyes while he licks the blood off his lips.

“You have no idea what you just unleashed, babygirl,” he growls and you smile.

“Do it again,” you moan while his eyes widen in surprise and amusement.

If God really is real, he must like him enough to send such a perfect angel his way. He smirks as he makes another swift cut on your chest and immediately latches on, sucking every last drop out of the wound as you tug on his hair, urging him to take as much as he wants, begging him to keep the rush going until you both can see Heaven. His hand is occupied with your other breast as he runs his tongue along the wound before looking at you. You grab his face and press your mouth against his, tasting your own blood on his lips and tongue. He growls against your mouth as he grabs your neck and pulls away, watching the way your eyes roll back and your chest heaves with your laboured breathing.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he asks as he squeezes your neck drawing a pleasure moan out of you. He smirks and drags his tongue up your neck until his lips brush against the shell of your ear. “I could tear you apart if we’re not careful.”

“What if I want you to?” you ask with a lopsided smile as his lips and teeth graze the sensitive skin of your neck.

He groans as he can hear your pulse in his ears and how your heart races with excitement. The blood from the cuts on your chest have dried at this point but there are still hickies and bruises from his mouth and hands. Any hopes of being gentle with you have flown out the window a long time ago and now you’re sitting in his lap telling him you want him to tear you apart, to ruin you so nobody else can satisfy you.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, babygirl. I tend to break fragile beautiful things,” he whispers into your ear as his other hand trails down your body until his fingers fiddle with the waistband of your panties.

“I don’t care,” you moan as you grind your hips urging him to stop teasing you, to abandon all logic and morality and just give into his own desires as well as your own.

“You may have gotten what you wanted, angel,” he chuckles before his teeth break the skin of your neck, making you moan loudly as your eyes roll back in ecstasy.

His hand stays around your neck, keeping your head tilted to the side to allow himself access while his other arm wraps around your waist. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as a new wave of arousal and euphoria washes over you and you welcome it. Chris on the other hand is letting himself drown in your taste as your blood fills his mouth while your moans fill his ears. He will gladly accept eternal damnation as long as he gets to have you.

He pulls away and licks the fresh wound, not letting a single drop go to waste before he looks at you.

“Fuck, you’re perfect. A dream come true,” he moans as he kisses the corner of your mouth.

After this, one taste will never be enough.

ENDNOTES ─ to get notified as soon as possible, follow @faeslibrary turn on post notifications.

Make Them Suffer and Dayseeker had finished their set, all of them attesting to an amazing crowd, which both hyped you up and played into your nervousness even more. You didn't have time to think about it. Not with the other three Graveyard Babes, Emilia, Bella, and Val, being the epitome of confidence.

They did have one major advantage over you — they'd done all of this before. The touring, the massive stages, Motionless in White. When one of the original four ended up dropping out of the group, you took your chance to become part of something greater. Not even half a year later you were set to do your very first show. And while you hadn't regretted a single moment of this journey, the experiences you made and the friendships you forged, right now, all you wanted to do was bail.

A hand dropped onto your shoulder, almost making you flinch as your brain reconfigured itself to the present. You didn't even need to turn around to see who it was. The shiver that went through your whole body, even though his skin wasn't even touching yours, was a tell-tale sign you had learned to expect and despise over the last weeks. And it wasn't just his touch — his scent, his face, every smile he sent your way had you digging your grave a little deeper.

"Ready for the pre-show huddle?" Chris asked, his face splitting into a grin. You nodded, wordlessly, not quite trusting your voice. He pulled you towards the others and as soon as you could, you escaped his touch, squeezing between Justin and your fellow dancer Emilia. Chris ended up right in front of you in the circle, as if on purpose.

You could basically see him transforming into his stage persona. You had gotten glimpses of it before, during rehearsals, but it was in another league this time around. His calm, quiet demeanor gave way to the side of him that thrived on confidence, a cocky smile playing on his lips. He knew he was about to hold the audience out there in the palm of his hands, hanging onto every word he said or sang, and he loved it.

Then he winked at you, had the audacity to wink at you, and you knew you weren't any better than any of his fans.

You were fine until song eleven. Muscle memory had kicked in, leading you flawlessly through choreography, fire handling, and costume changes. Now you'd changed into the short number for Rats, watching from the side of the stage as Slaughterhouse drew to a close, and willed your hands to stop shaking.

It was silly, really. You'd rehearsed this countless times. You knew the steps, the timings, every single movement of your body. But still there was a tingling sensation of knowing you'd get to touch Chris, however briefly, in front of a massive audience and numerous cameras.

"Can't tell if you're excited or terrified," Bella whispered as we took our places ready to get on stage once again.

"Is 'both' an option?"

Bella laughed, briefly squeezing your side as she leaned into you. "Come on, it's your favorite one! And you get to touch Chris, which we both know he loves."

"Wait- he- what?"

There was no time for clarifications as your cue came up. You shut your brain off, getting in position, trying to embody the character you were employed to play. So you mimed the sexy vixen, you danced, you ran your hand along Chris' jaw, down his arm.

You ignored the flutter in your heart and the heat between your legs as he stared you down.

A quick break, off stage, shooting Bella the meanest look you could muster as she suggestively raised her eyebrows at you and gestured towards Chris as if she could be any more obvious either way. Then you had to take your places again waiting for Chris to lead you back on stage.

Everyone's got a secret. What's yours?

Oh, you knew fully well what yours was. The only thing that worried you was the suggestion in Chris' eyes that he did as well.

Val, Bella and Emilia called dibs on the showers the very second the show finished. You didn't mind. Your brain was reeling from your first performance in front of an audience that big and you welcomed the empty dressing room. The door was still open, letting in a multitude of noises from the hallways and the other rooms, putting you right between the calm quiet and the chaotic energy you needed to recalibrate.

You walked over to the mirrors, rummaging through the chaos of products you'd all left on the tables there in search of anything that would help you get some of your make up off. You barely noticed the outside noise slowly quietening until the door to the dressing room shut with an audible click.

"It's going to be a long tour if you keep this up."

Your eyes met Chris' through the mirror. He was leaning against the door he'd just closed, still in stage makeup, still in his stage clothes, staring down at you even from the distance. Your body went into high-alert mode, automatically straightening your back as if you had any chance of being eye-to-eye with him even if he was closer.

"I'm sorry?"

"Now, what are you apologizing for?" Chris asked with a smirk as he sauntered over to you. "For eye-fucking me every time we're in the same room or for not just making a move?"

"Chris- what, I-"

The heat rose up your chest, your neck, your face, making you burn up from the inside. This was potentially the worst case scenario you ever could have dreamed up. You knew he wasn't wrong. You knew it was a problem. But you'd told yourself, convinced yourself, that you'd hidden it well enough. That he wouldn't have a clue. That you could get through this tour without any incidents.

So maybe Bella had noticed. The secret should have been safe from Chris.

You did the only thing your brain was capable of conjuring up to escape the situation: you lied.

"Chris, that's ridiculous," you scoffed. Turning away from him, you began shuffling through the clutter on the desk again, pointedly ignoring that you could see him getting closer through the mirror. "I'm literally just doing my job and being cordial."

He didn't stop advancing.

"So how come Val isn't blushing every time I enter the room? Bella doesn't linger when I touch her. Emilia never looks like she wants to eat me up alive."

He was so painfully right. Your system betrayed you immediately, the warmth gracing your cheeks heightening. As if you needed any more tell-tales. Your hands found a cleanser, awkwardly toyed with it without quite picking it up.

"Have you considered it's all in your head?" you scoffed, but the wobble in your voice was unmistakable.

Chris was closing in on you now. You didn't need to watch the mirror to know. You whole body was on high alert, goosebumps appearing on your bare arms, his breath slightly hitting the back of your head as he chuckled.

"Why are you trying so hard to convince me you don't want to fuck me?"

You didn't even take the time to fully let his words settle before it burst out of you.

"Because it's fucking unprofessional, that's why!"

Several items clattered on the table in front of you as you threw the cleanser in frustration, finally locking eyes with Chris through the mirror.

"Because you're my fucking boss, you employed me, you pay me and I can not afford to lose this job!"

The bastard was smiling. He leaned forward, both of his hands coming to rest on the table on either side of you, caging you between his arms. His hot breath was on your neck now, raising even more goosebumps as you held onto your last shreds of composure.

"So you do admit that you want me."

"For fuck's sake, is that all you're taking from this?!"

You wanted to turn around, face him, spit your rage in his face, but he was close, too close, and you knew that any movement would likely close the thin layer of air still present between you and you just couldn't risk that, not now, not right here, not when—

"All I want is for you to say it."

"Say what, Chris?!" You couldn't believe you were talking to him like this but you were quickly nearing your wit's end. His questioning was driving you crazy, knowing that he knew had you panicking. There was no way you were getting out of this anymore. "Say that I've been thinking about you non-stop since I joined this tour? That I want to jump your bones every time I see you? Is that what you want to hear?!"

"Good girl."

You locked eyes with Chris through the mirror for a split second, then his body was on you, his arms wrapping around your middle, pulling you back to meet his solid chest, mouth on the side of your neck, leaving kisses and bites as if he couldn't get enough of you. You melted into his embrace, all resolve you'd fought so hard to keep up disappearing as his hands wandered over your body, seemingly touching everywhere at once, pulling at the fabric of your dress as you felt him grow against you.

"Chris."

He didn't stop. His hands were cupping your breasts through the corset as his mouth continued to travel over every inch of skin on your neck, your shoulders. You arched into him, lust clouding the thoughts in your head.

"Chris!"

His head shot up, once again meeting your gaze in the mirror. His eyes were so dark, they almost got lost in the middle of his black make-up, want more than evident in them. Your hands covered his, as if afraid he might take them from you now that you'd finally felt his touch.

"One time. Just to get it out of my system."

"One time," he agreed, his voice lower than it had been before.

He didn't waste another second after the words had passed his lips before reattaching them to your skin. You let go of his hands, desperately grasping the back of his head instead as you drew him further into you. You turned your head towards him, trying to catch his lips, trying to get his mouth on yours, but he evaded your maneuver. His fingers grasped onto your jaw, moving your face away from him, a dominant hold onto your throat that had a moan escaping you.

Immediately, his palm covered your mouth instead, a futile attempt to keep you quiet, his fingers slipping between your lips. All shame evaporated as you sucked, the faintest taste of body paint left on them, needing more of him and needing it fast.

"You dirty fucking girl," he murmured against you, his other hand traveling down your body to gather your skirt, pulling it upwards until he could get his fingers underneath the fabric.

You felt him trace upwards, over your thighs, finding the edge of your underwear. His fingers were painfully soft in their touch, barely noticeable, not nearly enough. One of your hands joined his, pushing him for more, moving his palm over your wetness as it seeped through your panties. A low groan fell from his mouth.

In an instant, he had shoved the fabric down your legs, not even bothering to get it past your knees, as he finally touched you without constraints. His fingers were teasing your clit, feeling through the wetness, pushing inside you for just a moment—

Your pitiful moan was cut short as both of you stilled immediately at the sound of voices right outside the green room door. None of you moved, his fingers still sunken into you, eyes wide. Then, slowly, the voices moved away, in no hurry, getting quiet.

"Looks like we'll have to speed this up," Chris chuckled. You almost cried out when he let go of you completely, your hands finding the desk again to stop you from collapsing. You were painfully desperate, too far gone to be embarrassed. Through the mirror, you watched as Chris pulled a condom out of his back pocket.

"Fuck," you exclaimed, "you really came here with a plan, didn't you."

Chris had the audacity to wink at you. You spied through the mirror as he unzipped, desperate to get a view of what he had to offer, but he was quick, just barely pulling himself out, sheathing himself in the condom, before roughly pressing you onto the table. Various make-up items were uncomfortably pushing into your chest but you didn't complain as Chris once again moved your dress up and locked eyes with you through the mirror.

His face posed a question and you shamelessly started begging, begging him to push in, letting him know that you needed him more than anything in that moment. He wasn't in any hurry, even with the knowledge that you could be caught any moment, that the other girls were due back, that the door wasn't locked.

Chris pushed in painfully slowly. You tried to move back, get more of him, but the smile on his face told you you wouldn't stand a chance. One of his hands came down on your back, pressing you further into the table. Your brain was starting give out with every inch he gave you, unable to compute that this was actually happening, that you actually got to have Chris.

Your breathing grew labored as he bottomed out, both of you staring at each other through the mirror, staring at the scene you'd put yourselves in, raw and desperate. Then you whispered a pitiful 'please' and he knew no holding back.

Chris fucked you, hard, the table underneath you shaking until several lipsticks rolled and dropped to the floor, the tops of your thighs painfully digging into the edge of the wood, the scraping of its legs against the floor audible. You were seconds away from mentioning it, fearing being caught, fearing someone bursting in to check on what was happening, but then he hid that perfect spot and your brain turned into nothing but mush.

Your head dropped onto the table, but Chris was quick to bury a hand in your hair and pick it back up.

"Your eyes have been begging me to fuck you for days. Now watch."

Fuck. Disobeying was simply not an option.

Your eyes were solely trained on Chris as he pounded into you, studying his every movement, every emotion flickering over his face, the way his dark eyes watched you back, jaw slacked. You wished you had more time to enjoy this. That you could rake your eyes over him from a different position, another angle, seeing all of him. You wanted to get on your knees for him, wanted him between your thighs, wanted all night.

But the end was nearing rapidly and you both felt it.

"Come on, be a good girl for me," Chris panted. "Touch yourself."

It was uncomfortable and the angle was weird and your arm starting hurting almost immediately as you tried to shove your hand underneath your body but there simply wasn't enough time. Chris wasn't slowing down, pushing into you again and again, his eyes focused on your face, one hand still on your back to keep you in place, one still in your hair, grip softening.

A single touch was enough. You had been riled up, desperate, needy for him for so long that your finger only needed to briefly find your clit before you dissolved into a chant of moans consisting of nothing but gibberish and his name. Chris followed straight after, groaning deeply as he came, his fingers digging even deeper into your skin. You watched him throw his head back, lost in the pleasure, thrusting into you a few more times until he was spent.

The only noise left in the room was your shared labored breathing.

You could have stayed like this, Chris softening inside you, his body folded over yours, utterly content, but the shuffle of feet outside of the door once again dragged you back to reality. He pulled out, carefully, strong hands turning caring as he held onto your body. You had no idea how you were supposed to get back up, exhausted physically and mentally from what has just transpired, leaning on the table a few moments longer.

The touch between your legs surprised you, a tissue, Chris must have grabbed it from one of the other tables, carefully cleaning you up. A shudder went through your body. Gentle fingers eased your panties back up your legs, helping you get settled, then his arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you up, turning you around.

It was the first time you'd fully looked at his face, not through the mirror, since he'd let himself into the room.

"Are you okay?"

The question took you by surprise. His hands came to rest on your cheeks, angling your face upwards. His eyes honest.

"Of course, I- I'm okay, Chris."

"Good," he smiled. "I was afraid I might have been a little rough on you."

You were almost… touched by his care. His fingers softly stroking the skin of your cheeks, down to your neck, coming to rest upon your shoulders. Almost too intimate. Almost—

The door crashed open.

Chris took a step back at lightning speed as the rest of the Graveyard Babes filter in, busy laughing and chatting loudly among themselves, completely unaware of the moment they just walked in on until one by one, their eyes fell on you, then Chris. They stopped in their tracks. Bella raised her eyebrows at you.

"There you all are," Chris beamed, as if we'd done nothing but wait for them. "Just wanted to congratulate everyone on a good first show."

None of them bought it, you could see as much. Chris still held up the charade.

"Right, same tomorrow, then?" he awkwardly grinned, patting your shoulder once, twice, then all but legging it out of the room.

For a moment, all eyes were on him as he left, then one by one your girls turned back towards you.

And you knew you'd have a lot to tell.

The entire set smelled of hairspray and coffee. People were running around, assistants were shouting timings, cameras were moving, and the lights were so bright it was impossible to tell if it was still daytime or nighttime outside.

And you were stuck right in the middle of it all.

"I need the black eyeshadow," you said, trying not to raise your voice, even though everyone around you looked like they were about to collapse.

Your assistant and best friend, who was working with you on set, handed you the eyeshadow palette almost immediately. "I swear, if anyone else touches your brushes 'just to look,' I'm going to commit a crime."

You let out a short laugh as you finished setting up your station. It was a big job, much bigger than you usually took on. A music video for Motionless in White. And not just any video, a dark, cinematic, bloody, dramatic one, very Motionless in White. Of course, you needed mountains of makeup and fake blood for that day on set. You'd known it from the moment you saw the storyboard for some of his old music videos, filled with creatures, robotic things, prosthetic makeup, and gallons and gallons of fake blood that one of his agents had shown you when he hired you. The problem was, no one had warned you about something important: Chris Motionless was far more intimidating in person, and dangerously charming. You heard him before you saw him.

His voice was deep and resonated throughout the set; you could hear his deep laughs when he spoke to someone on the crew. Someone said, "Chris, we need to try on the new clothes."

Then you looked up, and there he was. Dressed entirely in black, his arms and neck covered in tattoos, partially visible beneath an open shirt, silver chains dangling from all over, and his face a blank canvas on which you had to translate the entire aesthetic of the new album with makeup. But it wasn't that which left you speechless; it was the way he looked directly at you. As if he'd walked onto the set and the first thing he'd noticed was you. He approached your makeup table as soon as the man you were talking to left to speak with another band member.

"So you're the new makeup artist." His voice was even deeper up close.

It took your brain two seconds longer than usual to process. "Depends. Are you here to bring fresh ideas, or do I have free rein?"

He grinned, and God... Now you understood why the internet went completely crazy over that man. Chris slowly approached your station while another assistant was talking to him about takes and schedules. He clearly wasn't listening. He was looking at you.

"That depends," he said, leaning slightly over the table piled high with products. "If you have free rein, am I going to survive?"

"I'm not promising anything."

"Perfect. I like taking risks."

From across the table, your best friend shot you an "oh no" look that you clearly ignored. Chris sat down across from you and rested his arms on his legs as you adjusted a lamp closer to his face. And honestly, now that you could see him more closely, his face seemed tailor-made for makeup artistry; he had the kind of face that made any artistic idea look ten times better.

"What?" he asked suddenly.

You blinked. "What about what?"

"You're watching me very intently." Of course he noticed.

"I'm working," you defended yourself.

"Yeah, right." There was a small smile on his lips, with the energy of someone who knew exactly the effect he had on people.

You picked up a brush, trying to maintain your composure. "If you move too much, I'm going to poke you in the eye."

"That sounded like a threat or flirting. I still haven't decided."

Your best friend burst out laughing from across the table. You gave him a warning look from your seat.

"Chris, please don't make me quit on the first day," you said playfully.

"I would never do that," he replied without taking his eyes off you. "I'm just getting to know my new makeup artist. I wouldn't want you to run away so soon if your work is that good."

"You haven't even seen my work yet. How can you know I'm good?" you thought you'd won the argument.

"Trust me, I know your work. When our agent hired you, he showed us pictures of other makeup looks. I liked them so much that I looked you up. You do amazing work; your whole page is full of incredible makeup looks."

Your heart gave a little nudge against your ribs. Had Chris Motionless been stalking you on social media? That wouldn't have happened even in your wildest dreams... This makeup thing was getting harder by the second, because yes, you could deal with musicians with egos that reached the clouds, you could deal with difficult models, you could deal with unbearable actors. But intense, blatantly flirtatious men staring at you as if you were the only person in the room, that was something else entirely. Especially when you had to be so close to him. You gently lifted his face with your fingers to better define the makeup around his eyes. Chris remained surprisingly still.

"Look up," you murmured.

He obeyed without protest. "You're very calm for someone working on a set like this."

"Someone has to keep order," you said with a smile.

"And you're always so serious?"

"I'm not serious."

"Liar."

Your lips curved slightly in a small smile that he noticed.

"There," he said softly. "I knew you could smile."

You tried to ignore the heat rising to your face. "Chris."

"Hm?" he said casually.

"If you mess up the eyeliner, I'm going to charge you extra."

He let out a deep laugh. The rest of the morning passed with camera tests, quick makeup changes, and endless takes. But every time Chris came back to your station... it was ten times worse, because he seemed to enjoy teasing you.

"Do you always smell like that, or is it part of the contract?" he asked once while you were fixing the fake blood makeup on his neck.

You looked at him, confused. "Like what?"

"Like, a sweet scent, and something... I don't know," he said, trying to find the right words.

"That was a really weird line," you said, thinking about the scent of your perfume.

"And you still smiled again." He rolled his eyes.

Later, while you were silently checking products, you felt a shadow stop in front of you. Chris again, obviously.

"I have an important question," he said, playing with one of your brushes.

"I'm afraid to hear it," you replied, checking some colors on the back of your arm.

"Do I intimidate you?"

You looked at him over the mess on the table. "Do you want honesty?"

"Always."

You moved slightly closer, pretending to examine the makeup on his jawline. The fake blood was starting to dry; you needed to touch it up. "A little."

His eyes lit up immediately. As if that was exactly the answer he needed to keep teasing you. "Interesting."

"Don't get too excited."

"Too late."

You tried to focus on working, but he kept looking at you with too much attention and intensity, and the worst part was that you were starting to look back without realizing it. Because Chris didn't flirt like other people; he wasn't overly romantic. He was precise. He whispered little comments in your ear, gave you long looks, the way he always found an excuse to get close to you even when he didn't need any more makeup, as if he enjoyed seeing how nervous he could make you before you stopped pretending to be calm. And honestly, it worked.

The last scene of the video was a beautiful mess. Everything was white, ready to be stained with fake blood, everyone in their place, lights flickering, fake blood everywhere, Chris finishing a take completely soaked while the director yelled excitedly.

"CUT!"

The whole set erupted in tired applause, you sighed in relief, starting to pack away all the makeup you'd spilled on the table, until you saw a pair of black boots stop in front of you.

"Are you leaving already?"

You looked up, Chris was still partially made up, his damp hair plastered to his forehead and several drops trickling down his neck. And honestly, he looked ridiculously attractive covered in sticky fake blood. Which was a problem if you wanted to say at least one coherent sentence.

"Eventually, yes. I've been here since six in the morning."

"Tragic," he said, rolling his eyes.

"I'll survive," you smiled.

He leaned slightly across your desk. "I don't know. I think you should receive emotional compensation for working with me."

"And what would that compensation be?"

Chris smiled slowly. "Let me buy you a coffee."

Your heart skipped a beat, because it no longer sounded like a game, no longer like casual on-set flirting. Now it felt real, and that was much more dangerous.

"Is that what you do with all your makeup artists?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

"No." The answer came out too quickly.

For the first time all day, Chris seemed genuinely nervous, just a little. Just enough for you to notice.

"Then I'm lucky."

He chuckled softly, looking down for a second. "You have no idea."

There was noise around. People were taking down cameras. Someone was calling Chris from the background, but for a few seconds it all seemed far away. In that moment, only you existed in front of him, and those beautiful eyes were looking at you as if he wanted to memorize your every expression.

"So... yes?" he finally asked.

You smiled slightly as you closed your makeup bag. "It depends." You went back to the same game as this morning.

"On what?" he asked, returning to his flirtatious tone.

You moved close enough to gently smooth a smudge of makeup near his jawline with your fingers.

"On whether you promise to stop distracting me while I'm working next time."

Chris looked you straight in the eyes.

And then he smiled that slow, dangerous smile again. "I can't promise that, sweetheart."

You knew that after accepting that invitation, Chris wouldn't leave you alone.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Note: Fed delusions ✅

Remember that you can make requests, just read the specifications in the pinned post :)

「 NSFW HEADCANNONS 」 — ♧

❝ nsfw headcannons w/ chris. ❞

「 POLY. RELATIONSHIP HEADCANNONS 」 — ♧

❝ poly. relationship headcannons w/ motionless in white. ❞

「 PLATONIC HEADCANNONS 」

A — Affection

They're affectionate in different ways. Chris is the type who always finds an excuse to touch you—a hand on your back, a hand on your waist, fingers intertwined. He simply likes knowing you're there. Andy, on the other hand, is more dramatic; if he misses you for five minutes, he calls and hugs you constantly. And when you're together, it's common to end up trapped between them on the couch with no way to escape, not because they force you, but because all three of you are equally clingy.

B — Bad Days

If you're having a terrible day, they'll both make it their mission to make you feel better. Chris immediately turns down the volume of everything, dims the lights, puts on some relaxing music, and covers you with soft blankets. Andy becomes the clingiest boyfriend on the planet, holding you like a koala all the time because he knows you feel safe in his arms. They'd definitely ask you, "Who made you feel that way?" They'd shower with you, help you wash your hair, and tuck you into bed. It all depends on how much energy you have that day to decide what you'll do next, considering they both have tons of ideas for how to help you relax. iykwim

C — Cuddles

Cuddles are absolutely essential to your relationship, personal space is nonexistent here. When you want to watch movies, it ends with Andy lying next to you, Chris letting you lean on him, and you trapped under the covers. When the movie's over, no one reaches for the remote, no one wants to move, and you end up cuddling in the same position for another two hours.

D — Dates

Your dates are quite random; you can range from simple activities to more elaborate ones, but your favorites are usually: cooking together, watching movies and TV shows, walking hand in hand the three of you, listening to music together, and going to concerts. The activity itself is never the most important thing, it's simply being together. Although Andy would still insist on turning any casual outing into a romantic date, Chris would try to get home as quickly as possible for a date at home because, according to him, you have more fun that way.

E — Emotional Support

They're very different when it comes to this. Chris is a listener; he lets you talk for hours if necessary without saying a word until you've said everything you wanted to say, and then he talks to you. Andy feels with you; if you cry, he already has tears in his eyes too. He doesn't know exactly how it happened, but he's sad because you're sad. Chris is hugging you both because, even though your emotions affect him too, he likes knowing you're okay.

F — Fight for Attention

This happens quite often, but not in a rivalry way; it's more like a game between them. If you're talking to Chris, Andy tries every possible way to get your attention, and when he finally does, Chris appears from behind and hugs you. Andy "steals" you and takes you to the couch to spend time with him, and then Chris protests. They start a completely unnecessary argument, and all three end up laughing because none of them are actually jealous of each other; they're just incredibly indulgent with you.

G — Gentleness

What surprises people most is how gentle they are with you. Especially Chris, because from the outside he seems intimidating, until you're half asleep on the sofa and you feel him tuck a blanket over your shoulders so you don't get cold, or how he carefully brushes your hair away from your face, or how he quietly asks if you're comfortable when you're cuddling with them. Andy has a very particular way of touching you, as if he's always making sure you're okay: a hand on yours, a brush of shoulders, a kiss on your forehead as he passes by, small things, but very consistent.

H — Home

The truth is, "home" stoped being a place and started being you. There are tours, trips, hotels, studios, airports, and yet, when you're together, it feels like home. Sometimes one of you wakes up in a completely different room than the day before and then finds the two of you, and everything feels normal again. As for your house, you've completely made it your own, comfortable and welcoming, with decor you all love, perfect for you.

I — In Love

It's so obvious and impossible to hide. Andy looks at you like you're the most fascinating thing on the planet, Chris looks at you like he still can't believe you're their girlfriend, and you look at them exactly the same way. The best part is that they're both head over heels for you and aren't afraid to show it.

J — Jealousy

They're never jealous of each other; the dramatic competition for attention is just a game they play between them. If you're with one, then the other comes along, and somehow you end up with one hugging you from the front and the other from behind, problem solved. But when it comes to someone else, then they get serious. They're not toxic, but they make it clear if they notice someone flirting too much, or if they don't like the way someone is looking at you. When they get jealous, they appear out of nowhere, discreetly, and suddenly, you have both of them holding your hand, kissing your cheeks, and calling you cute names to make it clear you're with them.

K — Kisses

Sometimes they're spontaneous, stealing kisses, appearing out of nowhere, giving you a little kiss, and then going on with their lives. When they're more persistent, they walk past you, give you a somewhat intense kiss, and then keep walking. They both have a habit of casually kissing you while doing something else, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. But during a makeout session, it's different, because all of their attention is completely yours. They both take turns kissing your lips because there's something about you that drives them wild, and while one kisses your lips, the other kisses your neck.

L — Lazy Days

One of your favorite moments in the relationship, because once the three of you settle into bed or on the couch, it's over. There's no productivity, no plans, no responsibilities; there's only you, snuggled up under the covers, watching horror movies, snacking, and cuddling. Chris always has an arm around someone, Andy has his legs draped over someone, and you're trapped in the middle. You never know how you got into that position, but you love being together. Nobody wants to move, whether you need to use the bathroom, are thirsty, or want to change the movie. You're so comfortable that it takes a long time to decide when to get up.

M — Missing You

Touring is the hardest time in your relationship because the three of you try to act like you can handle it, but when you're not together, you feel different. Chris gets quieter, Andy gets louder. You get completely normal texts like "Good morning 🖤" and ten minutes later "I miss you." Even when they're busy, they're always like, "Did I mention I miss you?" because you're longing for the moment when the three of you are together again. Andy texts all the time because he loves talking to you, and Chris calls you just to hear your voice.

N — Nicknames

Andy is constantly inventing nicknames; he can't help it. Half of them last a week, the other half stick forever. Chris usually uses the same ones he always uses, the ones that came naturally, the ones that have meaning, the ones that come up during special moments. Sometimes you end up using so many that the three of you forget the last time you said your real names.

O — Overprotective

Chris and Andy are VERY lovingly overprotective. If you're sick, it's the end of the world for them. Andy is already looking up remedies online, and Chris already has water, medicine, and food ready. They both ask how you are every twenty minutes, and if you try to get up when you clearly should be resting, they tuck you into bed and do everything for you until you feel better.

P — Public Displays of Attention

You're not over the top, but you're not exactly subtle either. You hold hands, they put their arms around your shoulders, kiss your forehead, someone rests their head on someone else's shoulder, things like that. The best part is that you usually do it casually, without even realizing it.

Q — Quiet Moments

These are your favorites because you don't need to fill the silence; sometimes you're doing different things. Chris reading something, Andy watching videos, you drawing, writing, or simply resting, and yet there's constant contact, as if simply feeling each other close makes everything alright, without needing to speak. These are some of your most intimate moments.

R — Reassurance

There are days when everyone needs to hear something nice, and on those days your relationship functions like a chain. If one of you feels insecure, the other two immediately step in with simple, sincere things. (We love you, We're here, You don't have to carry this alone, You won't lose us, Come here.) The conversation usually ends exactly where it began, with the three of you hugging because, apparently, that's your solution to everything. You've discovered that hugging makes you feel safe, and now you do it whenever necessary.

S — Sleep

None of the three of you can sleep normally. The positions you fall asleep in are adorable, with you on Chris's chest and Andy hugging you from behind, but the positions you wake up in are completely different. There's a leg on top of you that you don't know whose it is, an arm where it shouldn't be, someone else's hair in your face, the blankets on the floor. The best nights are usually the ones where one of you wakes up in the middle of the night, looks around, and finds the other two asleep nearby amidst all the chaos in the bed, because there's something very comforting about knowing you're there and comfortable with each other.

T — Touring Together

When they tour together, it's never a smooth ride. There are flights at all hours, tour buses, soundchecks, hotels, and all that. Chris is the one who always checks that no one forgets anything important —chargers, clothes, makeup, keys, credit cards— while Andy, on the other hand, turns every journey into an adventure. Your car trips can end with the three of you singing at the top of your lungs or laughing at something completely absurd. When their concerts are over comes your favorite time: taking off your makeup, changing into comfortable clothes, ordering food from the hotel even if it's very late, and ending up in the same bed watching a movie that probably none of you will finish because exhaustion always wins. There are exhausting days, weeks when you barely have time to rest, but discovering new cities, sharing stages, celebrating the concerts that went well, and having the people they love at the end of each night makes everything feel much lighter. Because, no matter where in the world you are, as long as the three of you are together; the tour also feels like home.

U — Understanding

One of the most beautiful things about the relationship is that you don't always use words, but you learn to recognize each other: the tired glances, the awkward silences, the hard days, the moments when one needs space, and the moments when one needs the exact opposite. Over time, you become experts at reading these signs because you pay attention to what each other needs.

V — Vulnerable

The most important moments of your day usually happen late at night when everything is quiet, when there is no energy left to pretend that everything is okay. That's when honest conversations happen, when you talk about your fears, insecurities, things that are usually kept to yourselves, and there is never any judgment, only listening, support, and the peace of mind of knowing that you don't have to carry everything alone.

W — Waking Up Together

Chris is always the first to wake up in the morning, still half asleep, he sees you two still sleeping, and Andy moves a few inches closer to you without waking up. You hide your face between them. When all three of you wake up, there are hugs to settle down and go back to sleep. You love sleepy kisses and whispering sweet nothings to start your day off right. (I love you, Good morning, How did you sleep?).

X — XOXO

Chris is a hug person; every time he walks by, he hugs you. When he gets home, if you're cooking, if he sees you've had a long day. He loves giving you hugs from behind, but sometimes he just opens his arms and waits for you to come to him and hug him. Andy is a kiss person. He kisses you on the cheek as you walk by, on the forehead when you're concentrating, and every now and then he likes to steal a quick kiss on your lips with that mischievous smile because he knows exactly how to make you smile. (Not to mention the kisses you share when things heat up; those are more intense.) Chris wraps you in a hug, Andy appears to leave you a kiss, and in the end, the three of you end up laughing because that's how your relationship works: Andy gives out kisses, Chris gives out hugs, and you receive so much love that sometimes you don't even know where a hug ends and a kiss begins. (This doesn't mean Andy won't hug you or Chris won't kiss you, it's just their love language).

Y — You're Ours

Chris and Andy have this little habit of calling you "our girl." For them, those words mean acknowledging you as their girlfriend. You do the same thing sometimes, when you see them arrive after a long day, you smile without even realizing it. ("There are my men.") Other times, while you're hugging them both at the same time, you keep thinking that they're your men. When you do that, Andy can't stop smiling every time he remembers it, and Chris just hides his face in your neck so no one notices how much those two words affected him. It's a way of showing that you choose each other again and again.

Z — Zero Personal Space

There is no personal space in your relationship. If one is sitting, the other ends up leaning on them; if two are hugging, a third appears. You end up doing everything together because you like feeling close, you like knowing the others are there. Your favorite place always ends up being the same: each other's arms.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Note: This was my first ABC, did you liked it? :3 You already know I love writing somewhat possessive scenes, but I wanted to keep the tone more romantic, I liked it for the story :)

Remember that you can make requests, just read the specifications in the pinned post :)