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x0x0josephinex0x0 · 6 months

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POV u gave your s/o a naughty photo book

Seventeen edition

Literally nobody asked for this but the concept has been living in my head rent free so im posting it so you can all suffer with me.

Warnings: suggestive themes throughout, and some mention of orgasms and other sexual topics, this is literally about giving someone a published book of your nudes so minors pls don’t interact. There are no sex acts described.

Seungcheol

It's Seungcheol's birthday, and all of his friends have left. With shaking hands, you had approached him to offer him "the last gift of the evening."

"I'm interested," he said, with one eyebrow raised. He got *that look* in his eyes -- the one where you knew the thoughts in his head were taking a nosedive into sin. You had given him a soft half-smile, the kind you knew made him crazy, before pulling the book out of your purse and handing it to him.

He looks...confused? Upset? It's hard to read his expression as he thumbs through the pages of the *book* you just handed him, his brow furrowed, a broad hand covering his mouth.

After awhile you just can't handle the suspense. "Do you...like it?" you ask him, trying to sound amused, but hearing how worried your voice comes out.

He looks up at you. "I've never seen this set before," he says quietly, gesturing at one of the pages.

You're a nervous wreck at this point — you think he might actually be angry with you — but you also have an inkling that Cheol is just trying to tease you, turn you on…and you have to admit it’s working. He’s got you blushing and stuttering and trying to keep him from being too angry. "It's new," you explain. "I got it for the shoot."

"Hmmm."

Cheol calmly shuts the book, standing up and walking over to you until he's standing directly in front of you. "You're gonna need to come with me," he says, and suddenly he's slinging you over your shoulder like you're Saint Nicholas's sack of toys.

He explains as he walks back to the bedroom with you. "Saying I liked the book is not quite the right word. Not strong enough. It's more like after seeing that book there was only one possible way the rest of this night was gonna go. It's that kind of book." He pauses. "And I'm appalled that this is the first time I'm seeing you in that set. How much time do you have tonight?" he asks.

"I've got all night," you giggle.

"You'd better have the set with you right now," he says as he tosses you onto the bed like a ragdoll. "We're gonna recreate every single pose in that book in person."

Jeonghan

“What is this?” Jeonghan asks you curiously, coming out of the bedroom with a package wrapped in black paper tied with a red bow. His eyebrows shoot upward as your eyes widen.

“That’s one of your birthday presents,” you say, trying to be smooth and failing.

“Huh,” he says, still watching you carefully — one might even say suspiciously. “Can I open it?”

“Is it your birthday?” you reply.

“In a month,” he says, casually slipping the ribbon off the package. “Why’d you get it so early? And why are you acting weird?” He fidgets with the tape in a vaguely threatening manner.

You deflate. “Well…maybe you should just open it now,” you allow, blushing red. “I’m leaving the room, though.”

“Why?” he calls after you. “Are you embarrassed?”

“Yeah,” you admit, flinging yourself onto the bed in the spare room.

"Huh," he says, suspicious. There are soft ripping sounds, and then...

"Holy *shit*," he curses from the other room, softly enough that you can tell he isn't angry, but loud enough for you to hear.

You hear a page being flipped. "Holy shit," he repeats. "Are they all like this?"

"That's the point of the book," you say, dying of embarrassment and shoving your face into a pillow.

"Honey, I'm gonna need you to come here," Jeonghan finally says.

You don't respond. You can hear him coming after you, and you lay still, hoping he'll think you somehow fell asleep in the last 3 seconds.

He doesn't buy it. "Come here, my love," he nearly purrs, his voice soft and tantalizing. "Don't make me beg."

Hesitantly, you turn your body to meet his eyes. He's leaning against the doorframe, and in his gaze is a kind of cat-like, predatory hunger you're not used to seeing on his graceful features.

He beckons you to him with two fingers, and you sit up to join him. In a swift move, he pins you to the doorframe by the neck -- gently enough that you can still breathe, but your knees go weak as you stare him down.

He grins at you wickedly. "This was payback for Cheol's birthday party, wasn't it?" he asks, waving the book in your face. "Well, I've got a couple of ideas for how to even the score once again."

Joshua

"This is a special gift," you say to him, "to commemorate our first Christmas together."

It is Christmas Eve, and you have just returned home from your parents' house, where you've been celebrating all day. You had told him about your family's tradition of opening one present on Christmas Eve, and he had agreed to participate. You'd picked your gift first -- it was a locket with his photo in it -- and then asked if you could pick his for him, to which he had agreed with a smile.

He makes a show of shaking the package, his eyes wide in anticipation. "It feels like a kid's picture book," he predicts. He rips the paper off the glossy, pure white cover and looks at you. "What is this?" he asks.

You smirk. "Open it," you say.

He does, and his jaw drops. "Baby," he says softly. "This is...wow." He continues to flip through the pages, looking up at you in open-mouthed awe as he does. "This one? Are you *kidding* me? You look so *good* in these photos!"

Your heart is thumping in your chest, a flush rising in your cheeks from his incessant praise of your lewd photos. "Oh, this one is art," he says, flipping the book around to show you. "Wait, let me show you which one was my favorite." He turns back a couple pages to let you look.

You beam at him. "You like it?"

"I *love* it, baby. Thank you." He pats his thighs, an invitation for you to come to him. And you can't help but listen, because his eyes are shining in those Christmas tree lights and making fireworks erupt in your stomach. You straddle his lap, facing him, as he gently places the book down and winds his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck. "You're so beautiful. That was such a thoughtful gift, and I'm so glad we get to spend Christmas together."

He looks up at you, pushing your hair out of the way so he can see your face better. "Do you *want* one more gift from me?" he asks you carefully.

You laugh. "I want everything you've got, Joshua Hong."

Jun

“I was waiting for a special occasion to do this,” you say. “And I figured getting engaged to you probably qualifies.”

The room is lit up by a million fairy lights strung overhead. Jun is reclined on a huge bean bag, grinning up at you, the glint of his new engagement band in the dim light making you almost dizzy with joy.

A big projector screen is behind you, hooked up to a PowerPoint presentation you’ve displayed on your laptop. The title: 46 Reasons Why I Deserve Multiple Orgasms Tonight.

“Whew,” Jun laughs, looking up at you. “Do I need to hear all 46 to get your point? That’s a lot of reasons.”

“Are you saying you’ll do it?” you ask him.

“Now, hold on,” he says. “I want to see the PowerPoint.” He takes a sip of his champagne. “But you can expect that we probably won’t make it past the 20th reason.”

You shrug. “Fair enough.” You flip to slide one. There’s a QR code there for him to scan, which he promptly does, waiting patiently for it to load.

And when it does, he opens his mouth in awe. It’s a link to your boudoir gallery, and just the first image of you is enough for him to stand up and grab you by the face and start kissing you like he hasn’t seen you for months and he might never see you again, with enough passion that you’re dizzy.

“46 reasons,” he says in your ear as he lifts you up off the ground. “That first picture deserves 46 orgasms all to itself.”

You laugh. “Did you see any of the other 45 pictures?” you ask as he plants kisses all down your neck to your chest.

“Nope, but i think we’ll just have to settle for me being in debt to you for as long as we live,” he says, and fumbles with the buttons of your shirt.

Soonyoung

You’re doing the dishes in your sweats and a sports bra when Soonyoung comes hurtling around the corner in absolutely nothing but boxers and a bathrobe. “Honey?” you say, concerned. “Are you okay?”

“What is this?!” he asks you, his voice an octave higher than it normally is.

Your eyes widen to the size of dinner plates when you see what he’s holding in his hands.

“Oh,” you say. “Um… it was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday, but then I lost it,” you admit, embarrassed in more than one way, since his birthday was six months ago. “Where did you find it?”

“Never mind that,” he says, waving you off. “We need to talk about how these pictures have made me feel.”

“Do we?” you ask nervously.

He puts the book down on the counter and scoops you into his arms, his hands finding your bare waist. “Weirdly enough, my first thought when I saw those photos is that I don’t want anyone else to ever get to see you like that but me,” he says. He leans down and pecks you on the lips.

You stand on your tiptoes to kiss his nose. “You couldn’t lose me if you tried,” you tell him, tracing a hand down his chest and over his abs before you slide your arms all the way around his waist.

“I think we should get married,” he says, and you freeze.

“Really?” you finally say after a long while. “If that’s all it took, I would have done a boudoir shoot ages ago.”

Wonwoo

You’re standing in the doorway, hesitating. Wonwoo hasn’t spotted you yet - he’s busy playing a computer game, his mouse clicking at furious speeds. You can tell he’s engrossed, and decide to come back later, but just as you’re leaving, he calls your name. “Don’t go,” he says. “I’ll be done in a second.”

True to his word, half a minute later he removes his headset to turn and look at you with a smile. Your new relationship is still a little foreign to both of you, and the sudden fear of rejection is strong as you consider what you’re about to do.

“Hey, honey,” he says, reaching for you and pulling you into his lap, where you wordlessly bring your hands from behind you to in front of you, revealing the book. “What’s this?”

You take a deep breath. “Are you gonna laugh at me?” you ask him seriously.

“Only if you’re funny,” he replies.

You open to the first page. “I got them done a little bit ago and just got them back,” you say quietly. “I…wanted to show you.”

He looks up at you, his gaze curious. “Did you do these for me?” he asks, thumbing through the pages.

“Actually,” you say honestly, “I did them for me. We weren’t together yet. And I hadn’t been feeling very good about myself, so I did these. And it actually gave me the courage to talk to you.”

He’s silent for a minute, drinking in the sight of you on every page. Then — “they’re beautiful. *You’re* beautiful.” He gently presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Thank you.”

He throws the book onto the bed behind you and pulls you in so you’re fully facing him, straddling his lap. He reaches for you, kissing you like you’re air and he’s drowning, trying to tell you without words just what he meant when he said you were beautiful.

Jihoon

You’re relaxing on the couch after a long day, and Jihoon has just come over to you, wordlessly positioning himself on top of you and resting a head on your chest. You run your fingers through his fluffy hair and press a quick kiss to his forehead, using your other hand to scratch small shapes into his back.

You love that he’ll do this with you — you know he’s a bit shy about touch because of how it was when you’d first started dating, but you admire the progress five years, a marriage, and a whole child between you can make.

“Is she asleep?” you ask him now, and he nods against your chest.

“Just needed a brief daddy visit,” he says, yawning. “Oooh, I’m tired.”

“Can I wake you up?” you ask him softly.

He pushes himself up onto his forearms so he can look at you. “I’m listening,” he says casually, but his eyes are eager.

You laugh at how cute he is, and he grins. “Well,” you start, “I know we’ve both been busy lately…you know, with work and keeping a tiny human alive, and I wanted to do something special to reconnect.”

He sits up then, facing you on the couch. “Go on,” he invites.

You reach down and grab the book from under the couch. Jihoon watches you curiously, still looking at you as you hand it to him. “What is this?” he asks you.

“Open it,” you say with a mischievous look in your eyes.

He does, and he gasps. “Oh,” he says, and a blush heats his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you on the glossy pages — in the black velvet lingerie set he got you for Christmas last year.

He keeps looking from you to the book. “What are you thinking about?” you ask him, your soft voice making him shiver.

“I’m thinking about how I’ve seen you like this several times,” he says quietly as he flips through the pages, “and I’m still not sick of it.”

“That lingerie set was an investment,” you agree, and he smiles at you broadly.

He places the book down. “What are the odds you’re wearing it right now under your clothes?”

You laugh. “Why don’t you come find out?”

Minghao

“Remember those photos I took that one time?” you ask him while the both of you are sitting opposite each other on the couch, a mess of limbs tangled together.

“I think I’m gonna need you to be just a little more specific,” he says.

“The ones you encouraged me to take when I wasn’t feeling very good about my body.”

“Oh, those photos,” he says. “I remember them *and* what we did after.”

You blush. “I’m sure you do,” you say. “Well, I just got them back. Wanna see them?”

“Of course I do,” he says, reaching across the couch for your phone.

You hand it to him and watch as he scrolls through the gallery, his expression growing gradually more proud and impressed.

“Baby, these are amazing. Killer editing, and a perfect model.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to minimize your feelings, but it’s pretty incredible that someone who looks like you can think you aren’t beautiful.”

“Really?” you ask him with a smile.

“Really,” he says. “Come here, sit by me.”

You obey, relaxing your head onto his chest. He kisses your forehead before continuing. “You know I have an eye for beautiful things. I love art, and I love to look at things that have the power to move your emotions. I mean, I’ve seen statues of the goddess Aphrodite in person. And yet the best thing I’ve ever seen is still your naked body. So it’s pretty crazy that you’re better than every piece of art I’ve ever seen and you sometimes still can’t see that.”

You prop yourself up on your elbow to look at him, and he kisses your nose, sending your heart into flips. “Well, I’m not saying that repeating the post-photoshoot activities would help me feel validated, but…” you say, trailing off.

Minghao gets the hint instantly, climbing on top of you and pressing his lips to yours. “Don’t have to tell me twice,” he says between kisses.

Mingyu

“Uhhh…Gyu?” you say, poking his arm. “You haven’t moved a muscle in like…fifteen minutes. Are you okay?”

He doesn’t respond, so you come around to his side of the bed. His eyes are fixated on the book in his hand. You know what’s happening now, and you kneel down in front of him, prying the book from his fingers. “Gyu, baby, look at me,” you say gently.

He meets your eyes with awe. “How?” is the only thing he says.

“How what, honey?” you ask him.

He clears his throat, shaking himself. He cups your face in his hands. “How did you take those photos without me noticing?” he asks in a strangled voice.

“It was literally so hard,” you admit. “Thank goodness for remotes so I could do them myself. It was a couple weeks ago while you were gone.”

“They’re edited in my style, too,” he says breathlessly. “The things you do to me.” He leans back, letting his eyes roam over your body, in a tight black dress you had planned on wearing out to your anniversary dinner. You stand up and lean toward him.

“Would you like dinner or dessert first?” you murmur to him.

He grins, a slow grin that lets you know he’s debating. “Hmm…let’s still go to dinner. It’ll give you time for me to let you imagine what I’m going to do to you when we get back.”

Seokmin

You are both already undressed down to your underwear and kissing ferociously when the doorbell rings. The two of you look at each other in a panic before standing up and throwing on bathrobes, giggling. Your heartbeat is in your throat as you look out the peephole and see a package on the porch.

“It was just the delivery guy,” you whisper back to Seokmin, who’s in the hallway looking dazed in his silky robe.

“Then come back here,” he begs you. “You’re driving me insane.”

But something is telling you to grab the package first. You slip your hand out the door and slide it inside, inspecting the address on the front.

Your eyes light up with recognition and you run to hand the package to Seokmin. He gives you a questioning glance. “Why?” He simply asks.

“Trust me, you’re gonna want to see that before we go any further.”

His eyebrows shoot up as he rips the package open. They widen as he opens the first page of the book. And with every photo he sees, you can feel the tension in the room boiling hotter. He’s grinning. “Oh, *honey*,” he says.

“Just for you,” you say, lightly dragging your nails over his shoulder blades.

His eyes roll back, and he shudders, smiling blissfully. “Cancel your meetings for today. You won’t be coming to work.”

You laugh. “Why not?”

“You won’t be able to walk after I’m done with you,” he says, pulling you into his arms and picking right back up where you left off.

Seungkwan

“Gosh, seriously…” he mutters under his breath, over the phone with you. You’re just a city away while he’s filming, but it is your birthday, and he feels terrible for missing it.

“It’s okay, love,” you reassure him. “We can celebrate tomorrow.”

“But you got *me* a gift?” He asks you incredulously. “For your birthday? Who does that?”

“I do!” You reply with a giggle, and he nearly curses at his phone again.

“I miss you too much,” he says.

“You won’t have to for much longer,” you say, and just then someone hands him the package you sent him on set.

“Do *not* open it around anyone,” you warn him.

“Okay,” he agrees, shutting himself in the bathroom. You can hear the sounds of him unwrapping the book.

And then he moans.

And then you hear what sounds like…clapping?

And then his voice is in your ear again. “Baby,” he groans.

“Umm…hello?” you ask, one part amused, one part worried.

“I’m here,” he says in a choked voice. “But I’m about to come home.”

“No, wait, you have to stay!!” you say, panicking.

“Like hell I do,” he retorts. You hear him leave the bathroom, hear him shout to the room, “I’ve just come down with a terrible bout of IBS, and I’m leaving!”

“You still there?” he says, and it sounds like he’s running.

“Yes?” you ask, torn between laughing and scolding him.

“I’ll be there before you know it, and you’d better be prepared for a long talk.”

The way he says “talk” makes it clear that very little will need to be said.

Vernon

He’s so mild-mannered that you’re hoping the photo book will do it for him. You’re hoping he won’t just say, “that’s nice, love,” as he peers with a clinical gaze at your lewd photos.

And you aren’t disappointed. Because while Vernon isn’t loud, his facial expressions certainly are. His jaw drops comically when he opens the book to a full page, practically nude photo of you. And he just keeps on getting more and more flustered, blushing harder and harder, and saying “damn, baby! These are *gorgeous*.”

He takes his time working his way through the book - stopping to trace the outline of your body on the page, in a way that makes you blush as though he’s doing it for real. “I love this color on you,” he exclaims, holding up a photo of you in an electric purple bra.

“Thank you,” you say, holding your hands up to your red cheeks.

He laughs. “Are you embarrassed?”

You giggle a bit. “Yeah, a little,” you admit. “The shoot, the book… it was all kind of a bold move.”

He nods, looking proudly down at the photo book. “Yeah, it was, baby. Don’t be embarrassed. I love it.”

He stands up and pulls you into a huge hug, resting his head on top of yours. When he pulls away, he grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “While we’re making bold moves,” he says softly, bringing your mouth up to his for a kiss. And then, completely uncharacteristically of him, he lifts you off your feet into his arms to continue kissing.

Chan

You come home to see Chan pawing through a book laying stomach down on the couch. Every turn of the page, he erupts into quiet laughter and kicks his feet.

“What on earth are you reading?” you ask him, putting your keys in the dish and moving toward him to get a peek.

And then you gasp. “What are you doing with that?” you ask him, your face a mask of horror as you try to snatch it from him.

“This is for me, right?” he says, fending you off easily with one arm. “What’s the occasion?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” you grumble, giving up on the snatching as Chan pins you to his side. “No occasion, I just…thought you’d like it.”

“You thought right,” he says. “This is great.” He kisses you on your cheek. “I have a question, though.”

“Ask away,” you say.

“Did you feel like you had to do this, or did you want to?” He sounds genuinely concerned. This is one of the things you love so much about him — he asks you all of your thoughts and doesn’t seem to mind any of the answers you give, so you know you can always tell him exactly what’s on your mind.

“I wanted to,” you assure him. “It’s just, you’re gone so often, and I wanted you to feel like you didn’t have to miss seeing me…well. Seeing me like this, I guess.”

He slowly leans backward until he’s holding you on top of him. “I am gone a lot,” he agrees thoughtfully.

“You are.”

“But I’m here now,” he finishes.

Your gaze drops to his lips and then back up to his eyes. “You are here now,” you repeat.

“So,” he says, a question trailing at the end of his thought, one he won’t ask out loud.

You kiss him before he knows what’s coming.

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seungcheol #jeonghan #joshua #junhui #soonyoung #wonwoo #jihoon #minghao #mingyu #seokmin #seungkwan #Vernon #Lee chan

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xtreklx · 8 months

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Low ~ Raphael x reader

One-shot: bayverse Raphael x reader Word count: 3.7k Warnings: cursing, mature themes, and slight NSFW, so this one is rated 18+ (minors DNI, see my masterlist for disclaimer) A/N: holy Toledo this one's a doozy. I've been working on it for a while, and it's def one of my favorite things I've written so far (at least, for now..). loosely based on the song Low by SZA, and lyrics are included in the text where I see fit. also I added color-coded dialogue for funsies. thank you guys for all the love on my stuff, and I hope you enjoy :)

__________

As a young, blossoming adult, your life so far has been overall steady. It staggers here and there, of course: moving in waves as life often does. But for the most part, it is everlasting mundanity. Your early twenties are supposed to be where it begins to roar; when you obtain the dizzying adrenaline and overwhelming fear of free will. Empty wallets, fleeting romances, broken hearts, anxiety, love, hurt. These emotions are meant to be felt, and life is not lived without them.

So, as life would have it, your steady mundanity was indeed set ablaze in your early twenties, when you fell in love with someone you had originally thought you hated.

Some might call that cliché. But, in actuality, not quite.

You had been friends with the mutant ninja turtles for years, ever since they saved New York City from the infamous Kraang attack of 2016. Your father was a police officer, and you had all met at the post-battle award ceremony and celebration. You and the turtles were 17 at the time, and you saw them repeatedly after that as they continued to work with the NYPD. Over time, you grew to become the friends you were now.

Well, not all of you. From your first encounter with the brawny brother in red, you discovered that he had quite the knack for pushing your buttons. While Leonardo, Michelangelo, and Donatello became some of your closest friends in the world, Raphael did everything he could to block you out. He was argumentative, temperamental, and unpredictable. You two could fight about anything: what kind of toppings to put on pizza, DC vs. Marvel, song or movie choice, even knitting patterns. The two of you were always bickering, always finding some way to make a snide comment or butt heads about something. You couldn't stand him, and the feeling was very obviously mutual.

On the topic of heads: flash forward five years later, when it finally came to one. You had been spending a lot more time with your turtle friends after finishing off your online degree program. While you were happy this was the case, the tension between you and Raphael seemed to be growing the more often you were around.

One day, the guys had gone out on their regularly scheduled patrol, with Raph staying behind because of a particularly nasty fight with Leo. You were waiting in the lair for them to return so that you could have your weekly movie night, but you were growing bored, and Master Splinter was nowhere to be found. Thus, you made the difficult decision to go bother Raph as he worked out in the dojo.

When he saw you approaching his bench, he groaned through a rep, his eyes rolling back into his head. "What do ya want, shortstack?" He grumbled as he continued to bench press his barbell, the veins in his big, green arms flaring with each movement.

You crossed your arms over your chest and huffed. "Save it, meat head. The more entertaining members of this family are gone, so I'm stuck here with you and nothing else to do. So..." You paused for a moment, watching as a scowl grew on his face while he continued his reps. "Do you want a spot.. or something?"

Raphael let out a breathy laugh as he set the barbell down back onto the stand. "Easy, tiger," He spoke as he sat up on his bench, side-eyeing you. "Even if you could lift this bar, I sure as shit ain't letting ya spot me. You'd purposefully drop it on my head before I could even bat my eyes at ya."

Your arms uncrossed and your hands went to your hips as you took a step closer to the red-masked brute. "Pssh, like I'd ever let you bat your eyes at me. I'd gouge out my own eyeballs before that could happen."

He scoffed up at you as he began to unwrap the bandages on his hands, which had been protecting his calluses from the aggressive texture of the metal bar. "Gee, yer a real charmer, aren't ya?" he questioned sarcastically, slightly under his breath. "Must be why you gotta line of men falling at your feet. Someone's gotta tame the tiger."

The dig at your love life (or rather, lack of one) made your face heat up, and you clenched your fists at your sides, taking another step closer to the brute. After all these years of bickering and insults, you were finally nearing your limit. "God, I try to be civil with you for one single day and you're a total asshole for no reason. What's your damage, Raph?"

Raphael whipped his head to you, the bandages he had just finished unwrapping long forgotten as he tossed them to the floor. He stood up from his bench as he spoke, taking a step towards you. "Ain't that easy. Yer my damage, sweetheart. Always have been, always will be."

"Oh, yeah?" You two stood not even a foot apart, and you were glaring up at him with the most intimidating look you could muster. "And just what exactly is your problem with me?" You could feel your heart rate increasing from the growing tension in the room. The air surrounding you felt like it had been injected with adrenaline, and you felt your temperature rising by the second. "Another easy one," Raph growled, looming over you. "You annoy the shit outta me, and ya never know when to shut yer goddamn mouth."

Your rage was increasing by the second, and by the fumes you felt radiating off of his mutant green form, you could say the same for the turtle in red. You were practically pressed against each other, him with a scowl on his face and you with a fire in your eyes. Your chest puffed up, and the words were out of your mouth before you could have a second thought.

"I bet you'd like to make me, wouldn't ya?"

It was silent after that. After quickly thinking it over, you almost gasped aloud at the implications of your words. The eye contact changed from a heated stare battle to his hazel eyes dominating, searching yours. You had been feeling very confident up until this moment, but that sentence alone caused the confidence to wither away, confusion at yourself taking its place. What the fuck did I just say?

Raphael's snarl had changed into a look of surprise. Confusion. And then back to anger.

With a frustrated grunt, he grabbed your waist and smashed his lips to yours.

And that was the kerosene to the match that set your young adult life ablaze.

The kiss was all burning rage, gory passion. It was tongues brushing and teeth clashing and a harsh grip on your waist and an even harsher grip on the tough, scaled skin of his shoulders. It was embers and flames and then the roar of a forest fire.

You couldn't help the sounds that the kiss drew from deep within your chest. You didn't know how or why, but your soft lips fit oh so perfectly against his rough, scarred ones. Your mouths moved together in a harmonious rhythm despite the chaos, even as he gripped you by your thighs and carried you to his bedroom, as if you had practiced this a hundred times before. It felt like second nature to kiss Raphael, even though this was your first time doing so.

And you hated that you felt that way.

What followed could, in no universe, be described as love-making. It was desperate and reckless ecstasy, a steaming release of the fury and tension you had been feeling towards one another for all these years. It could be seen in the way your nails clawed at his tough skin, in the way he pounded himself in and out of you, in the way your needy moans synchronized with his low grunts, in the way you clenched ever so tightly around him as he filled you with himself; it was aggressive, rough, almost mean.

You and Raph stilled for a moment after it was all over, breathing heavily and not saying a word, when you suddenly heard commotion coming from the living room. You made eye contact quickly, eyes widened, before scrambling to get dressed and cleaned up. You scurried out of his room and into the hallway, making it look to the returning brothers like you had been merely using the bathroom. And neither one of you spoke of it.

If you see me out in public, you don't know me, keep it silent In the bedroom, I be screamin', but outside, I keep it quiet Keep it on lowski, I'm the lowest of the lowest Wanna see if you can keep it like nobody know shit

The months that followed held similar tales of hidden passion. You and Raph never outright discussed what was transpiring, but assumed the unspoken rule of not mentioning it to his brothers. You continued to hang out with them when you could; on movie nights, you told them that you liked to wait in the lair for them to return from patrol so that you could eat all the popcorn without them. If Raphael stayed back from patrol, you snuck into his room or the dojo with a sarcastic remark and a smug look to annoy him to the point of 'teaching you a lesson'. If one of you was feeling particularly desperate to let off some steam, he would sneak out to your apartment on their nights off, telling his brothers that he was going to go get some air to 'clear his mind'. No matter what time he called or texted, you answered. It was almost like an addiction; you couldn't get enough of each other, and you couldn't deny how the other was able to satisfy you perfectly.

You know how to reach me every time and it plays in your mind With a rush that feels like we committin' a crime You know where you belong, I'm gon' save you a spot But we can't be outside 'cause the block is too hot And I'm all on your mind...

At first, as stubborn as you both were, you kept up your gig of hating each other, despite the passion you were displaying. Between kisses and within sexual acts, your bickering continued relentlessly. "Wow, ya didn't even wear panties today. Gettin' desperate, are we?" "By the looks of your crotch right now, I don't think I'm the desperate one, dumbass." "Ya better watch yer fuckin' mouth." "Why, Red? Can't handle the heat?" "Oh, I'm boutta show ya heat, sweetheart."

It was a balancing act, both of you trying not to break face and show the other how much you were enjoying these rendezvous of yours. Pride is a crazy thing, however, and as the situation went on, it began to manifest itself in other ways.

Raphael was the one to start it, about a month into the endeavor. He couldn't help himself; after a day of arguing with Leo and feeling like a disappointment, he sought you out to release his frustrations. And the way you looked writhing and whining above him (as he munched like his life depended on it) had him feeling real smug. His hazel eyes watched you as he worked, the liquid gold shining with mischief. When he came up for air, his hands still keeping busy, the pride emerged.

"Anyone else make ya feel like this, doll?" He asked, his low voice scraping your ears like gravel, a dark smirk spreading across his face. "Tell me. Can anyone else make ya feel this good?" You had rolled your eyes and scoffed in the moment, but couldn't help the moans that continued to emerge from your mouth at his actions, clenching the sheets beneath you. He saw your bratty behavior and abruptly halted his movement, holding your hips still so that you were trapped. "Answer the damn question, or I'm stoppin'." You squirmed for a moment, whining, but your need had consumed you like a demon. "No!" You yelped. "No one else makes me feel this good, Raph! No one else makes me feel like you do! Please don't stop, please!" You wouldn't have called it begging after the fact, but he most certainly did.

After that, something shifted. Sure, your sessions were still utilized for tension release, but there was more of a possession between you two than there had been before. The two of you were hanging out more often than you ever had. The bickering lessened, and in its place was validation, need, and your names on each others' lips. The contact grew more tender, and the conversations afterwards were more joke-y and only held friendly fire.

"So... do ya wanna put on that movie you were tellin' me about the other day?" "Wow, you wanna watch a movie with me? You must reallyyyyyyy enjoy spending time with me, Red~" "To be honest, I'm not here for you, I'm just here for the take out I know yer gonna end up orderin' later." "I love this hot n cold thing we have going on here. It's really turning me on." "Yer such a fuckin' goofball."

Between the two of you grew a mutual respect, an understanding, a cooperation: a love.

You found yourself thinking of things you wanted to tell Raph about when he wasn't around, and craving his input when you sought him out for advice. You yearned for the sound of his gruff voice and his blunt choice of words that always made you laugh or eased your mind. He found himself longing for the random questions you asked him or the jokes you'd regularly crack (whether they were funny or not) and the angelic sound of your laughter. Neither of you told the other about these feelings you were having, but they continued to develop on both sides.

Raphael found himself pondering these feelings one day while hitting the bag in the dojo, growing frustrated with himself. You had been in the lair hanging out with his brothers, and he continued his workout routine in the interest of being discreet, but he longed for nothing more than to hang out with you. To just be with you like his brothers were right now.

Of course, a particular brother in blue was bothering him more than normal. Leo was closer to you today than he normally was: giving you long hugs, sitting close to you on the couch, making you laugh with his idiotic jokes. Raph scoffed as he heard your laugh from the living room now, throwing an extra aggressive jab. What did Leo know, anyway? He'd bet that he could make you laugh twice as hard. He stopped, annoyed with himself for being so worked up, and stepped away to grab a towel and some water.

As he made his way over to the mini fridge to grab a bottle, he was surprised to see you making your way over to him. Normally, on nights like these, he didn't expect anything from you besides your staged bickering until his brothers went to sleep or you went back to your apartment. You had a playful smile on your face as you approached the mini fridge, a message in your eyes that he couldn't quite make out, but goddamn he knew they were trying to say something to him.

"Hey, big guy. Leo sent me to grab some water," you looked up at him as you spoke, the smirk still on your face. And all the hope that Raph had felt in that moment dissipated, like popping a balloon. He scoffed at you, rolling his eyes before grabbing a water bottle and walking away.

"Wait, woah. What's the matter?" He heard you ask from behind him, confused. He shook his head as he walked. "Nothin's the matter," He spoke slightly under his breath, but you could still hear him. "Why don't ya just go back to Leo? You're all over him, anyway."

He heard your footsteps as you followed him over to his bench. "Hold up, do you have a problem with me hanging out with your brother?" Raph couldn't make eye contact as he turned around to face you, so he looked down at the ground and huffed, eye ridges furrowed. "Well, ya know me, and I don't like ta share. So if you're gonna hang out with him like that, then go ahead."

"And just what would you be sharing?" You stood your ground a couple of feet in front of him, arms crossing at your chest and a determined glint in your eye. "Be straight with me, Raph, 'cause it's time we talked about this. What's going on between us?" He let out a grunt, shocked at your sudden confrontation, but still refusing to make eye contact. "Obviously nothin', if yer gonna go hang with Leo like that."

You inhaled, trying to maintain your patience. From the proximity you now held with the turtle in red, you knew you wouldn't get anywhere by fighting back. "Let me rephrase that. What do you want to be going on between us?" Raph moved to turn away from you, huffing again. "I don't know! Geez!" He exclaimed, before you grabbed his large bicep. He faced you, his massive form towering over your frame as you stepped close to him. He finally looked into your eyes, and saw nothing but a genuine question. No teasing, no tormenting, just a silent plead.

"Hey, talk to me, Red. It's just me." You smiled softly, begging eyes searching his liquid gold ones for something, anything, to grab onto and run with. He let you for a moment, before looking down at the ground again, growing more and more frustrated with himself. He took a deep breath, and kept his gaze on the floor as he spoke.

"...I'm not very good with words, ya know that." He paused for a moment, making quick eye contact with you before looking back to the floor. "But I just... I like how this is goin'. How we're goin'... I like us together. I like bein' with ya, Y/N, and I just wanna do that without any of the other shit. I..." He stopped again, taking another deep breath. "I want to be with ya for real. And I'm sorry if I messed this up and that's not what ya want--"

"I want that, too, Raph," You cut him off with a rising smile on your face, not being able to wait any longer. "That's all I've been wanting to be honest. I should have mentioned it earlier." Raph returned his eyes up to your face, shock gracing his expression. "Wait, so yer not into Leo?" He questioned, slightly caught off guard. You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful shove. "No dumbass, I'm into you." He watched your smile grow into a beam, silent, before a smile began to grow on his face as well.

"God, finally," a voice exclaimed before Leo came out from behind the entrance of the dojo, walking up to the two of you. "It took you guys long enough. Even I was getting impatient." "Thanks buddy," you said to him, smiling as you guys bumped fists. Raphael watched the exchange, confused. "Wait... what?" He asked gruffly, eyes flicking between you and his brother. "You knew... about.. us?"

"Dude, we've all known for a while." Mikey shouted from the living room. Donnie walked past the entrance of the dojo and paused, a newly filled cup of coffee in his hand. "Yeah, you guys aren't exactly the most discrete," he said, before continuing his stroll back to his lab. Leo chuckled before turning back to his brother.

"I was tired of watching you guys sneak around, so I finally confronted Y/N about it last week, and she spilled the beans on how she felt about you. Something told me you felt the same way, call it a brotherly instinct. Or maybe it was all the times you not-so-secretly snuck off to her apartment." He gave his muscly brother a playful punch to the bicep. "So pardon me for playing matchmaker a little bit."

You took a step closer to Raph, hugging yourself around one of his arms and looking up at him through your lashes. "Yeah, I mayyyyyyy have gotten impatient and recruited Leo to help me move things along. That's why we were all cuddly today. But you don't mind, right?" You jokingly pressed him, batting your eyelashes.

He rolled his eyes at you and scoffed, removing you from his arm, but wrapped his arms around your waist instead of pushing you away. He pulled you from his side to his front, turning you to completely face him and ignoring his older brother present in the room. "Yeah, I guess it's fine or whateva," he fake-sighed, bringing you close to his plastron and leaning in toward you. You, too, leaned in, your arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

"Okay, at least wait until I'm out of the room to start sucking face," Leo commented, turning around and booking it out of the dojo. The two of you turned your heads to watch him leave before facing each other again, glowing smiles on your faces.

"So... I guess I tamed the tiger, huh?" He teased gruffly, nudging his snout into your cheek. You giggled, a mischievous glint reaching your eyes. "Who said anything about tame?" You teased back, playing with the ends of his blood red mask.

"That's my girl," he murmured, before smashing his lips into yours.

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yxngbxkkie · 27 days

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personal trainer (s.c)

hello, hello!! this took me quite a while to finish, but i'm glad i completed it 🤭 i hope you guys enjoy this cute piece! let me know what you think 🩷

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

“Holy shit,” you mutter to yourself, getting out of the Uber's backseat. You quickly thank the driver and shut the vehicle's door. The driver takes off, waving to you as he drives away.

This place is huge. You think to yourself while walking up to the front door. You hike your gym back up on your shoulder, taking the weight of it off for a few seconds.

“Man, I'm nervous,” you laugh to yourself, rubbing your hands together before pressing the doorbell.

A few days ago, you found a post on Instagram stating that they're a personal trainer looking for clients. You've been trying to get back into your health kick, but it's been a little difficult. After debating with yourself for a good half-hour, you finally made an appointment.

The door opens up, snapping you from your thoughts. A man who's a little shorter than you stands in front of you, a smile on his lips. “Hi! Thanks so much for coming,” he greets warmly, making space for you to come in.

“Thank you for having me. I've never had a personal trainer before,” you giggle, stepping inside the fancy place. “I didn't realize your place would be so… stunning.”

He blushes at your words, his eyes looking around his parents' house. “Oh, thank you. It's actually my parents. I don't have a gym in my apartment, so they let me use theirs,” he mentions while scratching the back of his neck.

Your eyes widen. Oh, this is his parents' house? Wow. You think as you look around, admiring the infrastructure. “That's so nice of them,” you tell him, adoring that his parents are helping with his career. “I'm Y/N, by the way.”

The black-haired man shakes your hand, grinning at you. “It's nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Changbin,” he introduces himself. “I want to thank you again for reaching out. I honestly didn't think anyone would go for it.”

“Oh, really??” You ask, surprised. “I've been trying to go back to the gym, but no luck. I figure this would be better motivation for me.”

“Well, you're in luck!” Changbin rubs his hands together, leading you through his parents' place. “Our home gym has everything one needs, no matter what type of route you're going for.”

You smile at his excitement, blindly following the handsome guy. Your jaw drops when you two enter the home gym, and it looks absolutely stunning.

“Oh, wow!” You whisper, stepping further into the room. You set your bag on the floor as Changbin moves to grab a clipboard that's nearby.

“Okay, so, could I just have you fill this out? That way, I know what you're experienced with and what you're looking to achieve,” he explains while leading you towards a seat.

You sit down and take the clipboard from his hands. “Oh, so fancy,” you giggle, taking a look at the questionnaire he made.

Changbin's cheeks blush, and he hands you a pen. “It sounds okay? This is my first time having a client,” he laughs. “I just graduated a couple of months ago, and I've been so excited to start my new career. I didn't realize it'd be so hard to start up.”

“Oh, my god! Congratulations on graduating, and I'm glad that I can be the first to upstart your career,” you say to him, crossing a leg over the other. “I'll be sure to boast about you to all my friends.”

He smiles at you, breathing a sigh of relief. “You are so kind, oh my god,” he giggles, not expecting it to be so high-pitched.

Your heart flutters in your chest, finding this man in front of you to be so fucking adorable. You press your lips together as Changbin excuses himself really quickly.

“I'm going to get some water. Do you have any?” He asks you, walking towards the double doors. He leaves after you nod your head, leaving you to fill out the paper in your hands.

You start to answer the questions he asked, making sure to put your name and number at the top. You know, just in case he needs to get in touch with you. The only reason. You try to convince yourself, not minding the idea of seeing Changbin outside of the gym.

You're just finishing when Changbin walks back into the room, drinking from the bottle in his hands. “Just in time,” you chuckle, holding out the clipboard to him.

He grabs it from you, and he reads it over quickly. “Okay, great, this is good,” he mutters, his eyes dancing down the paper.

“For today, we’ll just do a quick circuit,” Changbin mentions, setting the clipboard onto the table. “And, if you're okay with it, I can make a nutrition sheet if you need help with that.”

“If you would,” you agree with a nod of your head. “What do you want me doing first?”

“I'll have you start with cardio,” he informs you, leading you towards the treadmill.

An employee drops off your acai bowl before walking back towards the counter. You hum in delight, looking down at the delicious looking bowl. You take your phone out, taking a picture of it before sending it to Changbin.

It's been a few weeks since you've started seeing him, and it's been a lot of fun. He's the type of personal trainer that's not super strict if you fuck up, which is nice. Plus, he's fucking adorable.

Your phone vibrates against the table, seeing a notification from Changbin. You take a bite of your food, rolling your eyes back at how good it tastes.

You went!! I'm so proud of you! You'll enjoy it, I promise!

Changbin wrote a few healthy places for you to eat at, and after a few sessions, you finally convinced yourself to try it out. Your cheeks flush at his texts, specifically the words, “I'm so proud.”

You hide your face in your hands, not knowing how much more of his cuteness you can take. You text him back real quick before going back to eating your acai bowl.

You find yourself zoning out at the table, continuing your eating. A knock on the window you're sitting beside startles you, making you jump in your seat.

Changbin excitingly waves at you through the glass. Before you have the chance to return it, he's making his way inside. He plops down in a chair beside you, letting his bag fall to the floor.

“So, how is it? Which one did you get?” He asks you, inspecting the bowl.

“I got the tropical bowl,” you tell him, showing him what's inside the healthy dish. “And, it's so good. I never should've doubted you.”

He smiles at you and playfully punches your arm, a habit he does a lot. “I told you. You should be listening to your personal trainer,” he winks at you, grinning ear to ear.

You roll your eyes jokingly and shake your head. “Yes, Changbin, I should've listened to you! I'm so sorry!” You apologize dramatically, clasping your hands together.

“You're so cute,” Changbin laughs, leaning back against the chair.

A blush dusts your cheeks, tearing your gaze from him. He thinks I'm cute? You giggle softly, tucking some hair behind your ear. “Do– Do you want to try this?” You ask him, getting some of the food onto the spoon.

“May I?” He asks politely as you hold it out to him.

You nod your head, swallowing thickly. Changbin leans forward, pushing the spoon past his lips. You continue to hold the spoon, noticing how intimate this looks.

“Is it good?” You ask in a whisper, pulling the now empty spoon back.

He hums in response, nodding his head as he chews. “Very good,” he giggles, holding a hand over his mouth until he's finished eating. “Do you want to have a quick workout session? I haven't had my workout today, and if you want… I'd like to hang out a bit longer.”

“Yeah, I'd love to!” You beam at him, finishing up your acai bowl.

It didn't take very long to get to Changbin's house, a twenty minute car ride max. You're glad that you decided to wear leggings and a tank top today. Otherwise, all you'd be able to do is watch.

“Take me through your workout,” you say to him, walking into the spacious gym behind him. “I wanna see what personal trainer Changbin does.”

He chuckles but nods his head, walking over to one of the workout benches. You follow suit, crossing your arms over your chest.

His gaze moves to you once he sits on the bench. “Do you want to guess how much I can bench?” Changbin asks, a smirk settling on his lips.

You giggle before humming, tapping a finger against your chin. You don't say anything yet, taking a step towards him. “Well, if these are any indicators,” you pause, touching Changbin's bicep. “I would guess about 117.”

His skin warms up at your touch, making his head spin a little bit. “You're close! I can bench 130,” Changbin tells you, and your jaw drops.

“130? Holy shit,” you squeeze his bicep, not expecting that number.

He smirks and flexes his muscles. “Stand back, I'll show you,” he mentions while laying back on the bench.

You giggle, noticing how the correct amount of plates is already on the bar. “Did you set this up?” You ask before he starts, biting your lip gently.

Changbin scoffs, avoiding your eyes as he grips the metal bar. “No, no, of course not,” he plays off, feeling his cheeks blush. “I must've forgotten to unload it yesterday.”

“Mhm,” you play along with his lie, finding it cute. “So, you didn't plan any of this to impress me?”

He shakes his head, clearing his throat before starting his reps. You lick your lips as he swiftly does ten reps. Changbin places the bar back on the rack, sitting up after it's secured.

“That's quite impressive,” you tell him, taking a step forward and resting a hand on the weights. “Maybe sometime you can try to bench press me.”

The buff brunette chokes on his own saliva, his wide eyes looking up at you. “W-What?” He stumbles over his words, his fingers gripping the gym shorts he's sporting.

“Oh, come on, you heard me,” you laugh, tucking some hair behind your ear. “One night when you're free, let's get together so you can bench press me.”

He watches as you chuckle, smiling cutely at him. Changbin stands up from his seat, his hands finding a place on your waist. “Will it be alright if I did more than bench press you?”

Your cheeks blush at his question, and you nod your head in answer. He brings a hand to your face, gently cupping your cheek. You look up at him, noticing his eyes glued to your lips.

“You can kiss me… if you want,” you whisper loud enough for him to hear, pressing your forehead against his.

His eyes flick up to look into yours, a smile coming to his lips. Your hands find a place on his biceps, squeezing the large muscles softly. Changbin leans forward, capturing your lips with his.

Your stomach flips as you kiss him back instantly, moving to wrap your arms around his neck. His hands travel down your sides to the back of your thighs, lifting you with ease.

“Are you free tonight?” He asks, pulling away from the kiss.

Changbin walks over towards the wall, pressing your body against it. “I'm free,” you mumble before reconnecting your lips.

“Would you wanna go out with me?” He asks another question, planting short kisses on your face and lips.

You nod your head, grinning ear to ear as you comb your fingers through his hair. “I'd love to, Changbin,” you giggle, pressing one last kiss on his lips.

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

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still-a-morosexual-help · 11 months

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thoughts on mammon and levi as a duo

Absolutely fucking love them!!

I feel like they're the closest in age (other than the twins obviously) like if they were humans the age gap would be just one year.

Love that Levi's one of the brothers who truly sees Mammon and understands him even though they're always fighting - he's the one who says Mammon is a "jerk with a heart of gold", he's the one who agrees when MC says Mammon has always been kind, he's the one who says that Mammon is social/good with people/makes friends with people easily and cares about those people

Love that no matter how much in debt Mammon gets with Levi, Levi still gives him money

Love that Mammon goes and stays in line and gets things for Levi when Levi's too anxious to go

Love that Mammon actually has a vague idea about all the things Levi is interested in and knows what new things he's looking out for

Love that we've seen Levi go to Mammon multiple times when he needs reassurance

Love that Mammon's the one to remind Levi to buy two of an item so that he can open one box and keep the other closed

Love that Mammon wanted to buy a similar figurine for Levi because he thought Levi lost the raffle draw

Love that they have a similar stupid sense of humour and made a stupid comedy duo

Love how Mammon gathers everyone to set up a gaming night after he finds out that Levi was upset because he needed irl friends to play a new game

Love that in Nightbringer the thing that makes Mammon start trusting MC and bringing them into his schemes is that he saw them being nice to Levi

Love when they're fighting and Levi tries to straight up drown Mammon but later when MC tells him that they shouldn't fight he's like "?????we weren't fighting?????" that shit was the most sibling thing ever, I've had that exact same conversation with my mother after she had to stop my brother and I from killing each other

Love that in s2 and nightbringer out of everyone's relationships with MC, we see that Levi's most jealous of Mammon & MC's

Mammon cares about Levi so much, that's his little brother and he would do anything for him but each time he sees him he's also immediately overtaken by the Cain Instinct

Levi looks up to Mammon so much (though he'd rather die than admit it) and he trusts Mammon to support him with anything he needs but he also prays for Mammon's disappearance under mysterious circumstances everyday

I also have this headcanon that Lucifer met Levi through Mammon. That one day Mammon dragged home this painfully shy angel he found skipping practice/lessons while he was skipping practice/lessons. And at first the angel absolutely refused to even acknowledge Mammon, curling up into a tighter ball as if not seeing him would make Mammon disappear but then somehow Mammon managed to annoy him enough that he started snapping back and actually turns out he's hilarious and fiery and mean when he's not stuck in his own head. And Mammon is delighted. He's never had this much fun with anyone so close to his age before. And after finding out that unlike the other angels their age this one hasn't been issued a guardian/mentor yet he (literally) drags him back to Lucifer and is like "can we keep him!!?" And Levi is mortified because holy shit that's Lucifer, who never leaves the palace, who never hangs about with angels this far down the hierarchy, who might as well be the heir to the entire Celestial Realm. And Mammon's hopping up and down on his toes and is hanging on to Lucifer's sleeve and is like "please please please can we keep him". And Levi's shaking and on the verge of crying and this is terrifying and horrible and even worse than that time where he was the only angel in his batch that none of the other older angels picked to mentor and oh he's going to die on the spot. And Lucifer's mother bear instincts just immediately flare up because yes this is his child now

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pseudophan · 2 months

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some post wad weekend thoughts...

i just wrote all this on the plane and haven't read it through so apologies for any mistakes

first of all, this weekend was incredible. i usually just kinda sit at home doing not much of anything, and this was a much needed break to actually have some fun. london in general always lifts my spirits but i suppose that danisnotonfire guy contributed a little as well.

guys i think i've met more people the past few days than i otherwise have in years. like. holy shit. i started listing people but i'm petrified i'll forget someone so i chickened out, sorry about that. but you all know who you are. i've met friends i've had for years, people i used to know but haven't spoken to in what feels like a decade, newer friends, and a frankly baffling amount of people i didn't know yet but who told me they've followed me for ages. like holy fuck you guys lmao what the hell??? and i mean did the reaction ever get old no of course it didn't. bad for my ego i'm sure but totally worth it. there's something very amusing and incredibly surreal about being chronically lame in most aspects of life and then suddenly finding yourself in an environment where you're kinda cool???? SO fucking fun oh my god, but also i do kinda feel like i've tricked you all? but hey i'll happily let you keep believing i'm cool, that is more than fine with me.

most importantly though everyone was SO lovely. like i said i don't think i've spoken to this many people in such a short amount of time in years and every single person i talked to was awesome. guys did you know phannies are kind of great... don't tell anyone but, lowkey... everyone is so funny and cool and absolutely insane but in a good way (shoutout everyone left at the gates until the very end, we should probably get some help).

and then lastly of course, mr howell himself. i talk about this a lot i feel like but fuck me that man was born to perform. whether you think he's actually funny or not, nobody can argue he doesn't absolutely thrive on a stage. he plays off the audience so well and he's so very obviously having the time of his fucking life. i'd already seen the show twice before this, and i didn't think anything would top the previous london show but man... the first night he came back out after the show having clearly been tearing up backstage, apologising for being an inconsistent absent parent, and i can't lie the "i had daddy issues and THEN i subscribed to dan howell" got me cause yeah no literally dude, you nailed it, exactly, well done. i think something about doing this show again, his magnum opus as he considers it, now after the dapg return was very special to him. he seems genuinely surprised that so many of us were ready to just jump back in like nothing happened, i don't think he was expecting so many people to still be waiting and it's... man. he comes off so grateful for us all and it's so fucking sweet. and then on the last night, i think that was my favourite, when the show ended and he got the standing ovation and people throwing him flowers.. he was so HAPPY. and clearly overwhelmed with emotion which, i gotta say, there is something honestly kinda funny about daniel howell standing in front of you trying not to cry. like no by all means dude go ahead, please, you've made me cry an endless amount of times it's only fair.

ugh. i'm proud of him or whatever. dick. and i'm proud of our ridiculous fucking community. i'm not sure what 14 year old nora would say if you'd told me i'd still be kicking it in the phandom a decade on, but at almost 25 (fml) i'm so so happy to be here still. you know, we get a bad rep, but i genuinely think as far as fanbases go we're pretty solid. and i love you all so much.

i believe i will have to rob a bank or something because the next time dan and/or phil do a tour i think i'll have to just show up at every date like i'm sorry but this was too good of a high we need to do it again immediately

anyway. back to work 💪

(by which i mean giffing dan and phil. i am still very much unemployed. fr though i'm two whole videos behind this has never happened i feel weird. who am i)

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titan-senpai · 26 days

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hiii! i read your valentino smut, and i hate him with every bone in my body, but i absolutely loved it. i was maybe hoping you could do some husk smut? i love him sm and i feel like he doesnt get enough love 😭 thankss so much and stay safe <3

𝐀𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐜𝐤. 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐤 𝐱 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

[ Inspired by the song : Greedy, OR3O ft. Swiblet ]

Let's say before he made a deal with Alastor he owned the most famous casino in Hell . And Y/N being a gambler in their past lives decides to visit the place. placing risky bets adrenalin flying. catches a certain cat's eyes, what they didn't know they slept with the most famous casino owner...

Warning; Cursing, Intoxitaded, influenced by alcohol, alcohol use, NSFW, Smut, gambling [GN Reader!]

More of my Hazbin/Helluva content? Check it out here!

A/N; I LOVE HUSK, WE LOVE HUSK MWA MWA <3

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Walking in the so-called 'Most famous casino of Hell' as I showed the guard outside my reservation on my phone as he nodded letting me in. taking a look around the casino it looked like any normal casino? "Would you like a drink dear.." a waiter said i nodded as he gave me a drink on flame. "is it your first time here?" he asked looking how i was looking around. "yeah i guess, i haven't gotten time to come here.." I sighed. "We'll be in luck because the casino has no end here! Live your life to the fullest here my dear.." he smiled before waving goodbye as i smiled walking to a poker table.

Taking a seat as the person behind the game handed everyone cards. "Let's begin.." Succubi said, as I picked up my cards looking at them. Seeing it was a low hand. One said "Bet" as the person set 10 poker chips. "Call,"the other woman said. I thought for a second, "Actually.. Raise you to 30.." I said with a smirk as I placed my chips. "I'll raise it to 300.."The woman said in full confidence.. "Fold.."the man said next to me. "I play by my own rules..Call you to.."I smirked.. "A soul." I smirked as she gave me a fear look in the eye "Not any soul.. My own one." I looked her dead in the eyes. "Fo-o-l-d.."She said, trembling. I laughed as I felt the adrenaline kick in as I placed my cards on the table. as the succubi gave me their chips. I smiled as I asked the waiter to get me a drink.

Hearing footsteps behind me as a certain person walked to me wearing a suit taking a seat next to me, "That was quite an impressive young one.."He smiled as he ordered the waiter. "You want something to drink dear? My treat?" I smiled, "I'm good, I'm waiting for my drink." He fixed his tie "Those are cheap drinks.. I've got the good stuff. '' I didn't care at this point. I wanted to have some fun anyway so I nodded as he placed an order.

An hour passed by as I was a bit tipsy and so was he. "Woa.. careful doll.. Wouldn't want your pretty/handsome/Gorgeous face to get hurt.." without thinking i kissed him as he held my face. I didn't know how long that kiss was but he pulled away. "Let's take this upstairs?" he signald people as they led us through the crowd to an elevator. I stood there as he scanned a gold card and clicked the gold button going all the way to floor 666.

He held me as the doors opened revealing a gorgeous penthouse with a painting of him. "Woaaahh" I smiled looking around as he helped me to his bedroom as i took a seat on the bed. his lips connecting with mine both desperate for each others touch, "R u sure you want this darlin?" He smiled taking off his blazer and undershirt. "Yes.."I moaned as he attached his lips on my neck as he took my clothes off. Soon he took his boxers off revealing his Grey cock with white freckles leaking with pre-cum my insides desprate for him just by looking at it. pushing his cock inside as I let out a pornographic moan. "Holy Shit-.." Husk said as he grunted in my shoulders. slowly pushing his entire cock inside as my face showed pure bliss. finally it was at his base. "Oh my... you're taking my like a champ.." he smiled as he pulled out not fully just keeping his tip inside as i finally could breath before i could react i felt him push it in with power letting out a moan pushing my head on the pillow. The air out my lungs knocked right out as he sped up my eyes rolling even further now as I had my first orgasm, my hands reaching for him as he bent down still pounding it in me as my arms started to cling onto his back, my nails scratching him. "Right there!"I cried as he grunted going faster soon his movements became sloppy and started slowing down. "Where do you want me.." he said looking at me with a tired look. "inside.. inside please.." I whimpered. as he sped up reaching his own orgasm as he painted my insides white. his head going back from the pure bliss as i reached my own after he came my eyes shutting as my body shook.

pulling out as white liquid dripped out of me. Standing up as he got me a cup of water. sitting up taking the cup drinking water as he sat next to me. "Thank you for this.." He smiled laying back down. gulping down the water. "No thank you.. I've never got your name sir?"

"It's Husk, it's a pleasure meeting you."

#husk x reader #hazbin hotel #habzin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #hazbinhotel #husk smut #hazbin husk x reader #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss #smut #habzin hotel

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barnesafterglow · 2 years

Text

sweet like honey

summary: you have a thing for bucky's height. he just might have a thing for all of you

pairing: neighbor!bucky barnes x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: modern au, smut (unprotected sex, pull out method, fingering), voyeurism but also not really?, size difference, bucky has BDE, bucky is BDE, bucky is also tall as a motherfucker, excessive use of the word honey, lesbian nat and wanda as always, fayth if you're reading this i'm sorry in advance

a/n: here's the next prompt of my kinktober! i've actually had the time the past couple days to write and and motivation is high so i'm so happy to share this with y'all! please make sure to reblog and comment if you enjoyed this. every single one means the world to me

you can join my kinktober taglist or follow @theafterglowlibrary to stay updated on my fics! 🤍

kinktober masterlist ─ main masterlist

It started as a joke at first. Bucky would pat you on the head as he passed you or comment on how cute and short you were. As if everyone wasn’t short compared to him. Even his roommate, Steve, had to raise his eyes just a hair to meet Bucky’s.

It started as a joke, but somewhere along the way it started to…do things to you.

The way he treated you like something delicate and precious. The way his huge hands touched you so casually. The way his hug completely engulfed you when he was drunk and a little more touchy.

You had moved into your apartment almost a year before, and immediately befriended the two girls - Natasha and Wanda - across the hall. They introduced you to Steve, in the apartment next to yours. They talked about Steve’s roommate, James, who was in Romania visiting his family. You were curious about him, because everyone talked so highly of him. And they were such amazing friends in such a short amount of time to you, you couldn’t imagine how James would be.

When he finally did come home, you didn’t even meet him again for almost a week because you just had opposite schedules.

But when you did… Holy shit.

He was the most gorgeous man you had ever seen. And no one had mentioned how fucking tall he was. You thought Steve was massive, probably 6’6” or so, and even he had to look up to James - or Bucky, as he immediately insisted you call him.

The five of them - you finally met Sam not long after you met Bucky, who lived in DC most of the time but stayed with Bucky and Steve when he had a few weeks off - welcomed you with open arms and became some of your best friends.

Which is why you kept your ever growing crush on Bucky pushed way, way down. You didn’t want to lose them and if anything went wrong - whether it be dating and breaking up or him just not being interested in you that way - you knew you would be the odd one out.

That all changed one day in the early fall. Nat and Wanda - who, you learned very quickly, were a couple - had taken a trip for their anniversary and Steve had gone to visit Sam. Bucky had volunteered to stay behind and make sure their cat, Alpine, was okay. He also said he didn’t want to leave you lonely, but you blushed and swatted him away.

You had just got off work and it had been a completely terrible day. The only thing that got you through was the promise of a movie night with Bucky.

You wanted to go and see him immediately, but stopped by your apartment to change into something more comfortable first. By the time you were ready to head over, it was still a little earlier than you had originally planned, but you figured Bucky wouldn’t mind.

The door was unlocked, so you let yourself in, but Bucky wasn’t in the kitchen making popcorn like usual. You stopped for a moment and heard to shower running. You debated on whether or not to wait on the couch for him to get done or crawl into his bed and wait for him there. The comforting thought of his soft mattress and the scent of him encompassing you won out, and you were already curled up and ready to start the movie when you heard the shower stop.

You don’t really know what you had expected. You guessed you figured he would at least put underwear on before he came into his room, but you were very, very wrong.

When you looked up at the sound of his footsteps padding down the hall, you sat up to see him completely naked. You gasped and tried to avert your eyes, but ended up looking down and… wow.

Bucky wasn’t just tall. Didn’t just have big hands. He was big - absolutely massive - everywhere.

Panicked, you looked up again at his face to see he was utterly unphased. In fact, the corner of his mouth was turned up into his signature smirk, the kind you’d only seen when everyone went out to the bar together and he was trying to pick up someone to take home for the night.

“Like what you see?” You could feel the heat flood your face at his question, and you turned your head away from him. “Hey, honey. Just look at me.”

You refused, shaking your head, and you heard a shuffle from the other side of the room. Suddenly he was crouched in front of you, gently lifting your chin so your eyes met his. You thought it might be the end, your friendship was over and you would lose your favorite people in the world. But there was a reason you adored Bucky so much.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he said, trying to comfort you. “We can still watch a movie and forget this ever happened, if you want.”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded and let him rearrange you back into bed. You were thankful that he had already put on a pair of boxer briefs, and then put on a pair of sweatpants before sliding into the other side of the bed.

Trying to steer things back into a normal direction, you asked him what movie he wanted to watch. He thought for only a moment before answering.

“I’m in a nineties mood, how about Basic Instinct?” You nodded in agreement, just going with whatever he wanted and not thinking much about it.

He still wrapped his arm around you like he usually did, and everything felt normal.

At least until the scene with Sharon Stone came on - one of the most provocative scenes in film history. As it played out, you felt heat spread through your core, and squeezed your thighs together in hopes that you could stave it off.

Of course, Bucky immediately noticed something was off.

“Are you okay, honey?” What was with the nicknames tonight? They were an everyone once in a while thing usually, but tonight he was showering you with them. You were too busy trying to calm your swirling thoughts to notice the knowing tone in his voice. “Is something wrong with the movie?”

“N-no. Just forgot how graphic it was.”

“Is that an issue?” Now you heard that cocky tone, and you had no idea what it meant for you - or your relationship with Bucky.

“Of course not, I just -” You stopped, not entirely sure where you were headed with your sentence.

“It was just getting you wet, ain’t that right, honey?” His hand moved slowly down your body, giving you a chance to stop him if you wanted.

You thought about it, but you wanted to see where this would lead you.

His hand slipped under the waistband of your shorts, and was met with your soaked core.

“Not wearing any panties? No wonder I could smell you.”

You whimpered at his words, at the thought of him knowing this whole time how affected you were.

He slid his middle finger through your folds, collecting some of the wetness, and pulled his hands from your shorts. You wanted to protest, ask him why he was no longer touching you, then he stuck his finger in his mouth, tasting your juices.

“Sweet like honey. Just like I thought you’d be.” He didn’t give you a chance to answer before his fingers crept towards your waistband. This time, though, he didn’t move under them. He stopped, looking directly into your eyes. “Please tell me you want this as much as I do.”

“I want you,” you whispered, and that was all he needed.

Suddenly, Bucky was on top of you and his weight pushing you into the mattress was just as amazing as you had imagined it, late at night with your hand between your thighs.

Which is where Bucky’s were now, slipping down to pull your shorts off. He settled between your thighs, spreading them wide, and skated his hand back up your body, purposely avoiding the one place you needed him most, and instead slipped under your t-shirt to pull that off too.

You tugged at his sweatpants, wanting him to be as bare as you were, and he happily let you. Once his sweats were off his legs, you tried to reach your hand between them, but Bucky lightly slapped it away.

“Buck,” you whined, high and needy, and he looked down at you, eyes boring into your own. “C’mon.”

“Need to get you ready for me, honey.”

And the rough timber of his voice could have made you come right then. It did make you clench your thighs together again, trapping his hand there.

“I know you’re desperate for it. But you’re gonna thank me, I promise.” With that, he slipped one finger into you.

It slid in easily, more than wet enough for him, but even that one finger on that huge hand of his stretch you open just a bit. You threw your head back in pleasure, and when he added a second finger you turned your head to the side, moaning into the pillow.

He pulled his fingers out, slapping the inside of your thigh and leaving a streak of you there.

“I want to hear all those pretty sounds you make. Hearing ‘em through the wall ain’t enough anymore.”

You stared at him, wide eyed, and he just chuckled before sliding his fingers back into you - three this time. And even with just three fingers, it was the most stretched out you had ever been.

If you weren’t so needy for him, you might’ve been scared of just how big you knew he would be.

“Bucky, please. I’m ready for you.”

“If you say so, honey.”

He spread your legs even wider, somehow, and you finally got a close look at him.

It was beautiful, tip red and leaking, and bigger than you could have ever imagined. This time, he let you reach out to touch him, and your hands barely wrapped around the girth of him - middle finger and thumb hardly grazing each other as you tried to slide your hand up and down.

His hand came down to replace yours, and he tapped his length against your stomach, showing you just how far he would fuck into you. Tip going just beyond your belly button, you clenched around nothing at the thought of it.

You lifted your hips, trying to tell him with your body that you were more than ready.

Bucky pushed down your hips - one hand spanning nearly the entire width of your abdomen, and slid his cock through your folds to get it slicked up.

His tip teased at your entrance, and just before he slid into, he looked into your eyes.

“You’re sure?”

You nodded, grabbing the hand that was on your hip and intertwining your fingers, squeezing tight.

With that, he pushed into you, little by little, and your moans were so loud you were certain the entire apartment complex could hear you.

“That’s it, honey,” he said as he finally bottomed out. “Take all of my cock.”

You clenched around him, squeezing him even tighter, and when you came from just his first thrust, you knew every other man would be ruined for you.

Every thrust after was like a punch to the gut. You whined, trying not to pass out at the intense feelings he pulled from your body. He bent down, kissing you much too sweetly for the way he was fucking you, and you realized it was your first kiss of the night.

You always thought romance books were bullshit when they talked about sparks flying, but you knew now that they were right. Bucky’s kiss consumed you, setting fireworks off that made you dizzy; made you see stars and planets and the rest of the universe. You knew from the look on his face as he pulled away that he felt it too.

What really did you in, though, was when he pushed down on your stomach, right at the spot where his tip caressed you inside. The feeling pulled another orgasm from you, and the tightness of your walls around him pushed him over the edge too. He pulled out, coming in large streaks over your stomach and tits.

The warm feeling made you moan again, and he swallowed it down with a deep kiss.

“Are you okay?” he asked against your lips.

“I’m gonna have trouble walking tomorrow, that’s for sure.”

He let out a loud laugh, kissing your nose and rolling over to set you on top of him, paying no mind to the mess between your bodies.

“Gotta make sure I really do a number on you, then,” he said, pulling you down for another kiss.

kinktober taglist *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@treatbuckywkisses @sgt-barnesveins @bucky-barmes @opheliastark @sweetascanbee @writing-for-marvel @christywantspizza @hi-sarahh @highlyintelligentblonde @jjbunny14 @buckysfavoritereader

#bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky smut #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #marvel #mcu #tiff writes #kinktober 22 #tiff's kinktober #sweet like honey

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doyouknowbtsswag · 9 months

Note

Hey ! Just discovered your account and I was wondering if you know the drama "Weak Hero class 1" ? Im in love with So-Ho character do you think you could write smth abt him ?

Joy Ride |So-Ho|

I haven’t actually watched this kdrama till I saw your request. Thank you so much because now I’m obsessed 😭. I hope you like it though ❤️

I sat at my desk rolling my eyes at the boys sitting behind me. Their little friend group acts as if they run the school. No one says anything though everyone just lets it happen scared of what they'd do. Honestly, sometimes I feel as though they are all bark but no bite. Finally, when school let out I looked over at my boyfriend who was sleeping resting his head on a cute pillow. I packed my stuff up and went over to his desk.

"So-ho~," I said sitting at the desk in front of his. I gently knocked on his head waiting for him to wake up. He groaned and rubbed his face. "Good morning"

"Why didn't you wake me up sooner?" He said tiredly.

"School just got out" I chuckled. "You slept through the class again"

"Not again"

"Don't worry I have notes for you" I smiled.

"How about we hang out for the rest of the day?" He said as we walked outside together.

"Don't you have work?" I asked as we made it to his motorcycle.

"Nope they gave me the day off and I want to spend it with you" He smiled at me giving me butterflies. "Hop on"

"What?"

"Get on the bike," He said putting his helmet on mine.

"No way I'll walk and-"

"Come on it's fun" He grinned.

"So-ho, le-"

"I promise I won't let you get hurt" He lead me to the seat. "Do you trust me?"

"I trust you"

"Then get on I'll go slow," He said as I hesitantly got on the bike. He sat in front of me grabbing both of my hands and wrapped them around his waist. "Just hold on"

"Alright," I said nervously tightly grabbing his waist.

He started the motorcycle and revved the engine making me jump. He started driving as I buried my head in his neck scared to look around. The drive started to feel nice and the small bumps in the road that made me flinch got better over time. I carefully peeked my head out from his back to look around the sudden gust of wind overcame my body as I loosened my grip from So-ho's waist making him smiley at the sudden comfort. I looked around at the streetlights coming to like as the sun fell. Even though I've seen those lights flash multiple times this felt different. The adrenaline in my body and the wind flowing through my hair made me feel free, it made me feel alive. So-ho pulled over in front of a restaurant getting off the bike.

"Holy shit," I said catching my breath and smiling.

"I thought you didn't like going on motorcycles" He teased putting his hands in his pockets.

"I didn't either," I said placing the helmet down.

"I guess we're going shopping for a helmet."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm gonna start driving you home" He grabbed my hand as we walked into the restaurant. "or you could ride with me while working.

"How about both,"

"Perfect," He said.

When the waitress came over we decided to share a meal since I felt a little sick from the drive we took.

"That's normal, you'll get used to it."

"That's good I want to ride with you all the time." I smiled.

"Why don't we walk up to the store up the street that sells helmets." He said while eating. "Then we can go faster since we weren't going that fast."

"Perfect, I don't want you to get hurt"

"I'm more worried about you." He grabbed my hand from across the table. "You're always my first priority"

"Stop you're making me blush" I covered my face the butterflies coming back.

"I'm serious" He laughed lightly. "I care a lot about you"

"I care a lot about you too," I said all red.

After we finished eating So-ho paid for dinner and grabbed my hand as we walked outside. There was a peaceful silence between us as we walked down the sidewalk. It wasn't too packed so it was nice feeling the breeze. He walked in front of a store that specifically sold sports gear along with a few other items.

"Ladies first." He said opening the door.

"Why thank you kind sir" I jokingly bowed as we both made how way to the helmet section. "What color or design should I get?"

"Let's see what they have," He said as we walked in front of the gear we needed. "There aren't many colors left" He frowned

"It's fine, I can always come back you know," I said putting a random one on my head" What do you think?"

He smiled and whistled which made me gently smack his arm. I rolled my eyes smiling.

"I think it suits you" He smiled crossing his arms.

"You think so?" I asked looking at the item.

"I know so, plus like you said earlier we could come back" He uncrossed his arms as we made our way to the front grabbing a few miscellanies things on the way. "I'll pay"

"You paid for dinner let me" I insisted pulling money out and before he knew it everything was in the bag.

"Have a nice day!"

"You as well" I smiled and dragged my sulking boyfriend with me.

"You should have let me pay," He said. "Especially since it's my bike"

"Hey, don't worry about it I'm happy I did"

"Next time I'm buying a bigger dinner and you can't pinch in a cent," He said stopping to look at the lights.

"What's wrong?" I asked worriedly.

"I've never really paid attention to the scenery since I'm always on the run." He said smiling. "I'm glad I'm able to see it with you"

"You should give yourself some more time off you work so hard" I admired his face in the beaming light that captured his beauty. His smile already lit up the streets and his eyes were captivating. He looked over at me staring but I didn't care I let myself stand my ground just this once.

"You're cute," I said out of nowhere making him turn red.

"What was that all about," He said off guard.

"To be honest I dunno just wanted to say that" I smiled.

"You're a hot mess express sometimes" He chuckled looking me in the eye and cupped my cheek.

It was my turn to be caught off guard as he wrapped his hand around my waist making me drop the bag in shock. I felt like I was in a romance K-drama with the swinging lights in the background, instead of Jae-Chan and Hong-Joo it was me and So-Ho. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I gently kissed him. It wasn't fast but it wasn't too slow. We both blushed looking at each other and then looking away shyly. He hugged me and I hugged him back little did I know what was going on behind the scenes. He pulled away from the hug and bent down to grab the bag.

"Let's go back on the Joy Ride" He smiled putting the helmet on my face and giving it a knock.

#weak hero class 1 #weak hero class one #weak hero class one so ho #weak hero #kdrama #kdrama x reader #kdrama scenarios #kdrama imagine #weak hero class one si eun #kdrama x you #weak hero class one Beom-Seok

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blues824 · 5 months

Note

Hello I've seen that you have been getting a lot of requests

But could I request : twst housewardens with nico di angelo/reader, that reader tells them that they're son/daughter of hades and their power? And maybe the battle of labyrinth(feel free to ignore ☺)

Gender-neutral reader (male reader-coded, but anyone can read as there are no gender-specific terms used). English Server player here, btw.

Riddle Rosehearts

You were the only one possibly in the entirety of Twisted Wonderland who could revive the dead… even if they were to do your bidding. Yeah, he was definitely freaked out when you cracked the ground open and made a bunch of cadavers and skeletons attack him while he was overblotting.

Riddle can tell that you have been through a lot of pain. He did not know the extent of that pain until he saw you at the fountain, throwing in a drachma and conversing with your sister’s ghost. You only had one tear slip down your face when you noticed that the tyrannical housewarden was watching. You quickly recovered before using the shadows to travel back to Ramshackle.

It wasn’t until later where he learned about your backstory, and holy shit have you gone through a lot. Chronologically, you were 82, but you had the physical appearance of a 15 year old. You were physically younger than he was. You told him that it was because you spent 70 years in a casino, but this just managed to confuse him more.

Anyways, you first came off to him as rude and distant, which he could understand because you ended up in Twisted Wonderland. You first thought you were hallucinating or put under a hallucination by a god or goddess you weren’t aware of. That being said, you didn’t get close to anyone because you were scared that you could be brought out of the hallucination at any point. However, you started getting closer to a certain red-headed housewarden as he extended a cup of tea “olive branch”.

Leona Kingscholar

When you stepped on his tail in the botanical gardens that day, he was annoyed as we all know. However, since you were in your Battle of the Labyrinth era, you were not about to take the shit he threw at you. Maybe if you were younger, but not now. You were pissed off at Percy and you were on a mission to get out of Twisted Wonderland as soon as possible.

He doesn’t really care that you are a more private person. However, when he sees you display some of your abilities, he does get a bit curious. Like, for example, you opened up the ground and had skeletons attack him while he was overblotting. He easily turned them into sand, but it was still surprising. He had never met anyone who could do that before, as magic in Twisted Wonderland could not do that.

But, there was one time where he was coming back from a Housewarden meeting, and he saw you putting a strange coin into the fountain while you were speaking to an apparition. He hid behind a pillar and saw that there was a figure on the ledge of the fountain. You turned around and Leona saw a tear slide down your face before you melted into the shadow that the fountain cast.

Leona eventually learned of your backstory by Ruggie running around and seeing what he could find about you. You were actually 82 years old, which definitely added to the small pile of “Things that Actually Surprised the Housewarden of Savanaclaw”. You had never actually celebrated your birthday by a birthday party. The apparition he saw in the fountain was your deceased sister. He feels like shit for the way he has treated you thus far.

Azul Ashengrotto

As we know, he was present during Leona’s overblot. So he sees that you can summon a dead army. And he definitely wants to get that under a contract that will put him at an advantage over the dead. However, you have already been in this situation. You were not about to be under someone else’s control again.

That being said, your fatal flaw made its appearance and you held a grudge against Azul. You would go out of your way to not come within six feet of this man. You started making your own meals and you would travel via the shadows. The cecaelia noticed, and he started to feel kind of bad… and so he asked the tweels to find information on you in exchange for less hours for an entire week.

They came up with a lot of things, actually. You were the descendent of Hades, the brother of the father of the King of the Sea. That is how you got your powers. It wasn’t magic at all. You had a full biological sister who joined the Hunters of Artemis group, but died. You were fighting gods and titans left and right… and you were still physically only 15 years old.

Unfortunately for you, your powers did not come in handy when you fought against his overblot. However, your sword did, as well as the potion that allowed you to breathe underwater. You’ve had plenty of experience with fighting in water, so you were well-versed and thus defeated him rather easily. You called him an amateur, stating that one of your fellow demigods at Camp Half-Blood would have posed a better challenge, which made his ego take critical damage.

Kalim Al-Asim

You cannot tell me that this man is not the Will Solace to your Nico di Angelo. However, unlike Will, Kalim does not have the power to heal anybody via singing a song. He is no archer. He has no super powerful whistle. He can’t put anyone under a ‘couplets curse’. He can’t emit a divine glow. He can’t shoot rays of light. He can’t change the seasons. He can’t control diseases. But he is still yours.

Because of the way he is, you physically can’t hold a grudge against him. But you are suspicious of the Vice Housewarden. You stick to the shadows and listen in on private conversations. Not like Kalim would ever believe you, but you have done what you could to prevent an uprising against him.

During Jamil’s overblot, you were actually able to defeat him rather easily, surprising Kalim. Sure, you were sent into the desert, but you were able to travel in the shadows that the dunes of sand cast. You were actually able to take everyone and travel faster. However, that left you drained, but you knew you had to keep fighting. Using the last of your strength, you summoned a skeletal army, and then your vision started to get dark.

Kalim ended up waking you up in the infirmary. He was crying and pleading with you to forgive him for not believing you all along. You were kind of confronted and put on the spot, wanting him not to make a noise and cause a scene. You patted his head kind of awkwardly, and he was so happy to see that you have forgiven him and that everything was going to be okay since you were awake now.

Vil Schoenheit

You looked like a corpse, and Vil was not afraid to point it out. You bit back and stated that because you were a child of Hades, God of the Underworld, it was understandable that you looked less than alive. That started a beautiful hateship between the two of you, as he’s trying to fix your eyebags and you’re trying to fix his attitude. You didn’t even know much about Neige, but you said something along the lines of, “it’s no wonder that everyone likes him over you.”

Anyways, Vil has sent Rook to go dig up some dirt that he could use against you. The hunter found out many heartbreaking things that made the Housewarden feel horrible about the things he has said about you. You were doing all of this just for Bianca, your deceased sister, because she told you that you needed to move on as she moved on to Elysium.

When he overblots, you already have enough experience. Your sword has the ability to absorb darkness, and guess what the ink is? Anyways, you used your sword to absorb some of the ink, which weakened the overblotting mess. It was a relatively easy takedown, and you just left silently after. Again, your fatal flaw poked through, and you only helped because of Epel and Rook and how you were friends with them.

In the infirmary, Vil woke up right when you dropped off a single get-well gift. It was a small vase with just one stem of lavender as well as an olive branch. Just one, as you wanted to be stingy, but you wanted to be better than your fatal flaw. You wanted to show that you weren’t unsympathetic, so you extended this purple olive branch and the actual olive branch. Vil knew the language of plants all too well, and he got the message.

Idia Shroud

You both are shut-ins, you both are nerds… It's a match made in the Underworld. Nah, but all jokes aside, you both hated each other at first. You would debate each other on every single fact from any given Fandom. But you were good friends with Ortho, even if you did dislike the fact that he was so naive. He reminded you of yourself in the beginning of your demigod journey, and you did not like remembering all of that.

Anyways, Idia is going total cyber-stalker. He is trying to find something he can fight against you with, kind of like a Redditor. What he did manage to find was depressing and sad, and also made him feel like shit. Hearing about Bianca made him clutch onto Ortho more and appreciate having him, as not everyone could have such a good replacement as his robotic younger brother was for his dead older brother.

When he overblotted, you were just tired at this point. However, Idia proved to be much more of a challenge than you had originally thought. By this point, the Housewarden of Ignihyde had analyzed your powers as a child of Hades as well as thought about any other hidden powers you may or may not have, and prepared accordingly. You couldn’t shadow-travel at all and you couldn’t use the ground for whatever reason (Idia had used magic to keep you from doing so).

It was depending on your assholes of friends that allowed you to win, because the one thing that the flame-haired 18-year-old didn’t expect was for you to suck it up and forget your grudges against Ace just to beat his ass. So, he was left vulnerable as you acted as a weird diversion, using his love for a certain anime against him as you shouted a complete hot-take that he definitely did not agree with.

Malleus Draconia

Hey, look everybody! It’s the social rejects! I’m just playing… kind of. You both tend to emit an aura that can be portrayed as frightening to others. The only difference was that your aura was intentional, and it even managed to give Sebek a spook sometimes. However, it did not deter Malleus from reaching out to you and extending an olive branch. That was the start of a beautiful relationship between the two of you.

I have a headcanon that this dragon prince is kind of like a goth version of Will Solace. You can confide in him during your nightly walks, and he is not going to judge you for it. You have actually told him about your older sister and her untimely death, and while he did try to tell you that it wasn’t Percy’s fault and you weren’t hearing it, you secretly knew that it was true and it was just your fatal flaw that kept you from forgiving Jackson.

Speaking of confiding within him, you’ve also told him that you were scared that he was going to overblot. He was so attached to his retainers as well as you and Lilia that it would be wrong to qualify this fear as anything but rational. Malleus understood, as you’ve already had to fight six overblots in the relatively short amount of time you’ve been in Twisted Wonderland, and you’ve had to solve the familial issues of an arsonist (Rollo Flamm).

Your fluency in Greek fascinated Malleus, as Greek was not a common language that was spoken. He had no idea what or where ‘Greece’ was, but he was also interested in learning about Hades as well as your [distant] cousins, who were the other demigods at Camp Half-Blood. Then, there was an entire other demigod camp called Camp Jupiter, and you were kind of a ghost story between the two. You, in turn, listened to his silly little rants about gargoyles, as you believed that there needed to be a healthy exchange in interests within the relationship.

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sourwolf-sterek32 · 2 months

Text

The Dirt (Your Version)

Summary: Meeting Nikki Sixx and Tommy Lee was a coincidence. Being friends was a choice. But falling in love with them both was beyond your control.

A rewrite of The Dirt with all the highs and lows of Mötley Crüe from your perspective.

Pairings: Nikki Sixx x Reader, Tommy Lee x Reader, Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Trigger Warning- self-harm, language, past drug and alcohol abuse

Previous Chapter

Chapter 20- You're All I Need

Over the next few months, you and Nikki became closer than ever before.

You had opened up to him and exposed your deepest emotions and Nikki shared his own with you in response. The trauma you had both endured as children and the darkness that plagued you both as adults only pulled you closer while you learnt how to navigate the world together away from the darkness and into the light.

Nikki was sober now. No alcohol. No drugs. Nothing. He still struggled with his addiction though. The lure and temptation were always there, but he was strong. Stronger than anyone else you knew.

You both had relapsed a few times, Nikki with alcohol and you with a blade. But you were able to pull each other back up and support each other through those bad days. You spent more time at his mansion than your own house by the beach. He liked having you around and you didn't really want to go back to your empty cottage alone.

Neither of you had put a label on what your relationship actually was, but it didn't need one. He loved you and you loved him. And that was enough.

John Corabi left Mötley Crüe. It was bound to happen, and nobody was surprised. The fans wanted Vince back and the band's latest tour with Corabi was a total failure.

Not long after finding out about Corabi's departure, you received a phone call from Vince and by just simply hearing his voice which shook and sobbed a little less, you knew your brother had come out the other end.

He was out of rehab and sober. He could now look at Skylar's grave and decorate it with flowers for her birthday, and he could finally smile whenever he remembers the funny things she used to do. He was still grieving though. He always would be, but Vince was getting better.

"I'm heading to the store. Do you want anything?" You called out, slipping your boots on.

"Grab some bread, if you can!" Nikki's voice shouted from somewhere in the house followed by his laughter. "Wow, that sounded so fucking domestic."

You snorted softly, "bread it is. I'll be back soon."

Out of all the things Nikki could have asked for, he had to ask for the one thing that the grocery store was running low on. He couldn't have asked for milk or something?

Walking down the bread aisle you spotted one lone loaf sitting on the shelf and you sighed with relief before reaching out just as a tattooed hand grabbed the other side of the packaging at the same time.

You opened your mouth about to fight for a stupid loaf of bread, but your voice died in your throat when you saw who's hand it belonged to.

Tommy Lee.

"Holy shit, Y/N?"

You smiled, "hey Drummer."

Suddenly the world around you faded away and you forgot you were in a grocery store surrounded by random people as you stared at Tommy in person for the first time, in a long time.

"I'm so sorry about Skylar." Tommy quickly said, his hazel eyes saddening as he thought about the little girl that used to follow you around backstage like a shadow.

"Thanks." You replied, glancing down at the ground not knowing what else to say.

Tommy didn't say anything for a moment while he stood there biting his thumb nail. It was a nervous habit he has had ever since high school and it seemed after all these years, he never managed to kick it.

"I've missed you."

You lifted your head at his words and met his gaze as Tommy smiled softly at you.

"I've missed you too." You admitted before he held his arms out silently asking for a hug without trying to force it and you instantly stepped into his embrace before his long arms wrapped around your body tightly.

He rested his chin on top of your head as you closed your eyes, savouring this moment.

It had been too long since you had seen Tommy. You missed him. You missed hugging him.

Slowly, Tommy pulled away but rested his hands on your shoulders holding you in front of him and before you knew what was happening, his lips were meeting yours. You froze for a moment at the unexpected kiss, but was quick to kiss him back, nonetheless.

"Tommy." You whispered against his lips. "This isn't a good idea. You're married."

"I'm sorry." He sighed, pulling away resting his forehead against yours.

"Don't be."

You tilted your head up and placed one last gentle kiss to his lips before taking a step away and smiling sadly at him.

"I'll see you around, Drummer."

You turned and began to walk away.

"Y/N, wait." Tommy called out and suddenly his hand was grabbing your wrist, stopping you.

You let out a pained hiss as his fingers grasped your sleeve. The still healing cut that you had been picking and reopening for the past week suddenly flared in pain.

"Whoa, sorry. Are you okay?" He asked, instantly letting go. "Shit, I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry."

He hadn't grabbed you hard. If it wasn't for the cut, it wouldn't have hurt at all. Tommy might be a little hot headed and easy to start fights when he was drunk at bars, but he was never violent around you. If anything, he was overly gentle, always afraid that he might hurt you by accident, despite you having to constantly reassure him all these years that you weren't some fragile piece of glass.

Although, right now, that was exactly what you felt like.

A fragile piece of glass. Glass that was already cracked and damaged, and on the verge of shattering at the slightest touch.

"You okay?"

You realised that you had taken too long to answer and quickly nodded.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

You knew your voice didn't sound convincing, but you gave him a reassuring smile anyway. Tommy stared at you for a moment, those bright hazel eyes full of sudden worry.

"Why are you wearing a jacket? It's like 85 degrees out."

Shit.

"Uh, I've been inside most the day. Didn't realise it was so hot." You lied easily with a shrug of your shoulders.

Tommy didn't say anything for a few seconds, his eyes glancing down to your sleeves before an uneasy expression washed over him. And you knew that he had figured it out because when you were kids, he figured it out too.

Vince had gone off to the beach after school with his friends leaving you alone in the back of Tommy's van.

It had been nearly a week since you and Vince ran away from home. A week since Tommy smuggled you both into his van in the front yard without his parents knowing. And it had been less than 24 hours since you broke your promise and started to cut again.

It was a stupid mistake and you regretted it as soon as you saw the blood. Vince would be so disappointed if he ever found out. He had told you to talk to him if you ever felt like that again, but you didn't.

"Knock, knock!" Tommy's voice called out from outside the van.

You smiled softly, used to his verbal knocking whenever he came out to the van. You sat up and reached over pulling open the side door to find him standing there, his wild brown curls blowing across his face.

"Hey, hitchhiker." He smiled brightly. "I didn't see you much at school."

You only shared a couple classes with him, and you had different friend groups, but the two of you always seemed to cross paths throughout the day between classes and during lunch, but today you had just hidden behind the gym. You weren't in a very sociable mood and didn't want to be around people, especially Tommy because he would be able to tell something was wrong.

"Sorry. Had a lot of work to catch up on." You easily lied.

Tommy stared at you for a moment, his warm hazel eyes glued to yours like he was trying to figure out if you were speaking the truth before he simply nodded and pulled out a small Tupperware container out from behind his back.

"My mum baked heaps of chocolate chip cookies. Figured you and Vinnie might want some."

He held out the container of cookies towards you and your heart fluttered at his kindness.

"Thanks, Drummer." You smiled, holding your hand out to grab them but then Tommy's eyes shifted down to something.

"Hey, what's on your wrist?"

He grabbed your hand and brushed your sleeve up before you even had a chance to register what he was doing and by the time you did, it was too late.

A shocked gasp escaped his lips when he saw the self-inflicted cuts carved into your skin. The container of cookies slipped from his hand and dropped to the floor of the van as he took a step back, his hazel eyes widening in shock.

"Did you... did you do that to yourself?" He asked, unable to process what he was staring at.

You hastily pulled the sleeve back down and folded your arms across your chest so he couldn't see, but it was too late to hide it.

"Don't worry about it." You dismissed, looking away from him.

"Don't worry about it?" Tommy repeated in disbelief. "Y/N, are you... do you want to... did you try to kill yourself?"

Your head snapped back in his direction so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash, "no!"

"Then why did you do that?"

He didn't sound judgemental or look angry. He just seemed sad and confused, which was worse.

"It's none of your business."

"If I find you dead inside my fucking van, then yeah, it is my business!" Tommy responded, his voice rising a little as he spoke before he ran his fingers through his hair nervously.

"That's not going to happen. I only did it because the pain... it helps." You tried to explain but Tommys brows furrowed in confusion. "I don't expect you to understand, it's okay. But if it makes you feel better, I regret doing it and it won't happen again."

He nodded and remained quiet for quite some time, but to your surprise, he didn't run off. He remained standing by the side of the van watching you carefully.

"Did you treat it?"

His question caught you off guard as you blinked and glanced over at him, his eyes glued to your hidden wrist.

"What?"

"Did you treat the cuts? I don't want them to get infected."

Oh. Oh.

He was worried about it getting infected. That hadn't even occurred to you. It should have, but it didn't.

Your silence was enough of an answer.

"My parents aren't home. There's a first aid kit in the bathroom. Let's go get it cleaned up." He said, holding his hand out towards you. "C'mon."

You stared at his hand for a moment before shaking your head.

"It doesn't matter." You whispered, looking away from him. "I don't care if it gets infected."

"Well, I care."

"You shouldn't." You muttered quietly, glaring at the blanket beside you like it had personally offended you, instead of meeting Tommys eyes. "I mean, look at me. I'm fucked up-"

"You're not fucked up."

You chuckled almost hysterically and shook your head.

"I am. I know I am. I'm fucked up. I'm broken, Tommy and I-I can't be fixed. I know that. I mean who does this? And you know what the real screwed up thing actually is? I-I like it. There I said it, I like it. I like the pain and I know I need to stop, but it's the only thing that helps. The pain... the pain helps, and I don't... I don't-"

"Hey, hey, breathe. Y/N, just breathe." Tommy quickly said noticing that you were working yourself up into a panic and you realised that you were in fact not breathing.

You couldn't breathe.

Shit, you couldn't fucking breathe.

"It's okay, just breathe. Deep breath in, come on. Breathe in, one... two... three. Breathe out, one... two, three. Good. Good. And again." Tommy coached climbing inside the van and sitting beside you.

His hand grasped your shoulder gently as he sucked in deep deliberate breaths for you to copy.

You stared at his necklace, focusing on the silver chain like a lifeline while you mimicked his breathing. Tommy continued to coach you verbally, your eyes glued to the chain trying to focus and after a few minutes your breathing slowly started to even out. You looked away from the necklace, your eyes locking with his beautiful hazel ones.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry." You sighed. "You didn't- you didn't sign up for this. Just, go. I'm sorry."

You lowered your head fiddling with the loose thread on your jeans, too afraid to look at him as silent tears trickled down your cheeks.

"I'm not going anywhere." Tommy replied. "You're more than just Vince's sister. I care about you, Y/N. Please, come into the house so I can clean the cuts properly. Please."

You tilted your head up and met his concerned eyes before you nodded, "okay."

"Show me." Tommy ordered still standing in the bread aisle of the grocery store as he stared at you with sad knowing eyes.

You blinked in surprise, "w-what?"

"Your arm. Show me your arm." He said again taking a step forward.

"Uh, no." You said, simultaneously taking a step back. "Why?"

Tommy sighed, "you know why. Show me your arm."

You held his gaze as he raised his eyebrows at you impatiently because he knew exactly what you were trying to hide beneath the sleeve.

"Fine." You sighed, lifting the sleeve of your right arm that you knew was bare. "Happy now? I gotta go."

"Your other arm." He quickly said before you could walk off. "Show me your other arm."

You opened your mouth to respond but then an elderly couple walked down the aisle and came to a stop beside you while they stared at the limited selection of food on the shelves. You closed your mouth quickly not wanting other people to overhear this conversation and Tommy seemed to catch on because he remained silent too.

Tommy held your gaze, his eyes filled with so many emotions it was hard to decipher any of them before his eyes flicked over to the elderly couple that had finally chosen their wholemeal wraps and were walking away.

"How many times?" Tommy asked once they were out of earshot because he didn't need to see the evidence to know what you were refusing to show him.

You sighed, "too many."

Tommy lowered his head grabbing hold of the shelf beside him as he sucked in a deep breath before meeting your gaze once again and you were taken back when you saw tears shining in his eyes.

"Look, I-I know I have no right to tell you what to do, but don't do this to yourself. Please."

"Tommy-" You tried to say, but he kept talking.

"I was so scared when we were kids. Even after you and Vince moved out the van, I worried about you. I didn't want to lose you back then and I can't lose you now."

"You're not going to lose me." You insisted.

His eyes shifted down to your arms folded across your chest hiding the cuts, "you sure about that?"

"If you asked me that a few months ago, my answer would have been no." You admitted causing Tommy's eyes to sadden. "I... I wasn't okay. I... maybe I'm still not okay, but I'm getting better. I'm trying to get better, and Nikki is helping me."

A look of relief washed over him at your words.

"Sixx mentioned that he was in contact with you again." Tommy replied smiling softly. "I'm glad that he's helping. I'm sorry that I haven't been there for you-"

"Tommy, don't." You shook your head at him. "I left. And you have a wife. You have your own life to deal with. I'm okay."

He tilted his head with a sad smile, "but you're not okay."

You took in a deep breath and nodded.

"But I will be."

Those big hazel eyes softened as he stared at you before you leant forward and placed a gentle kiss against his cheek.

"I should go." You whispered, stepping back giving him a small smile. "It was nice seeing you again, Tommy."

You turned and began to walk away before he called out your name.

"Y/N."

"Yeah?" You said, turning back around just as he tossed you the loaf of bread.

You caught the bread with one hand and Tommy gave you a friendly smile as you nodded your thanks before walking away.

A few days later you were sitting on Nikki's bed strumming away at his acoustic guitar to the tune of Home Sweet Home when he walked into the bedroom and tossed a magazine down on to the blanket in front of you.

You stopped playing the guitar and looked down at the magazine in confusion until you saw the picture that was covering the front page.

It was you and Tommy kissing at the grocery store with the title: 'Tommy Lee Steps Out On Heather With Y/N Neil'

Your stomach dropped.

Fuck.

You and Nikki hadn't put a label on whatever it was that the two of you had going on. So, you had absolutely no idea how he was going to react. But as you looked away from the magazine to gauge his reaction, you found the bassist smiling softly.

"You still love him, don't you?" He asked, but it was clear he already knew the answer.

You had known Tommy for a long time. The two of you were never close in high school, but when Vince had shown up on his doorstep with you injured in the car and asked for a place to stay, Tommy never hesitated.

He had been there for you from the very start. To sleeping in his van, to looking after you whenever you had migraines, to ditching his honeymoon to be there for you during the miscarriage and everything in between.

"I do. I love him." You admitted, staring back down at the magazine. "I'm sorry."

Nikki walked over taking the guitar from your lap and resting it against the wall before he stood beside the bed and gently pulled your body into his stomach wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

You reached up and wrapped your arms around his midsection leaning against his side as he bent down and placed a kiss to the top of your head.

"It's okay to love two people at the same time." He whispered stroking your hair gently. "It's not like Tommy and I haven't shared you before."

"Wait, but-"

You pulled away as Nikki released you and you looked up to find the bassist smirking happily.

"I want to get the band back together."

Holy shit.

Really?

He sat down on the edge of the bed and reached for your hand lacing your fingers together.

"For so long, I thought it was about... what did you used to call us? The Terror Twins?" Nikki began to say, and you smiled with a small nod. "Tommy and I... we thought it was about us for so long. We forgot that we were a team, and Vince was the quarterback. We forgot what made us Mötley Crüe: the chance collision of four very different, very flawed, and very difficult personalities and the girl that kept us together."

"Nikki-"

"I haven't given up on Mötley Crüe." He stated, squeezing your hand. "Can you help me?"

You grinned, "hell yes."

Next Chapter

MASTERLIST pinned to profile

If anyone wants to be tagged just let me know

#nikki sixx #tommy lee #motley crue #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x reader #tommy lee x reader #tommy lee fanfic #motley crue x reader #motley crue fanfiction #vince neil #mick mars #the dirt #pov #douglas booth #mgk

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lillysbigwilly · 1 year

Note

i fcking love streamer!ellie but what if reader was the streamer?! imagine ellie being a huge fan and always leaving comments during her stream. she's also internally freaking out when she meets the reader in person and experiencing gay panic, at the same time, because "holy sht she is the prettiest person i've ever seen in my entire fcking life."

okay it’s official, anon i absolutely love you, you god 🤍

streamer!reader x Ellie Williams head canons

can i appoint myself the queen of streamer!ellie head canons or is that narcissistic (leave requests my loves)

it would 100% start off with ellie being bored shitless, hopping through tv channels, netflix, youtube etc before finally turning to a streaming sight.

she loves gaming and often finds herself on that platform however she’s never seen you before that day. you were pretty big, rolling in about 50k viewers per stream but you were more of a baking stream, qna stream person rather than gaming

however, your friends had persuaded you to play a story game for that stream. you honestly couldn’t remember the name but it was some sort of zombie apocalypse one

it was fun and ellie actually sat through your whole stream.

after that, she had subscribed (in which you read out her username and she literally almost screamed hearing your pretty voice say her name) and she watched every other stream after that

she favoured the baking ones, seeing you all dressed up with a cute lil apron on over your clothes.

and ellie liked you even more when you made weed brownies live. saying they where ‘funny’ brownies so you didn’t get demonetised

she thought you were absolutely stunning and quickly ranked up to one of your favourite fans with her silly comments and the sweetest complements on each of your streams.

plus she sent you a lot of money.

it was actually after your birthday stream that she met you in real life.

she had been watching for a little over a year and you had gone out with your friends to celebrate your birthday after a short stream

as you were walking down the road to meet said friends , you noticed a pair of eyes on you which wasn’t unusual since you were pretty well known however you recognised her face from somewhere.

ellie’s eyes widened as you walked closer to her. her cheeks flushed red as she subtly looked you up and down. gay mother fucking panic.

now the girl knew she didn’t like men and only liked women but shit did you solidify it. she had been with girls before but you were something else

“i know you” is the first words you said to ellie and her heart just about stopped beating. sure, you acknowledged her online. even becoming mutuals after a comment she left on your post made you laugh but you knowing ellie? impossible “ellie right”

she didn’t trust her voice so she simply nodded. her response made you smile.

you gave her your number, it was dangerous. you didn’t know if she would leak it or whatever but you still did it and it was the best damned decision ever.

you know what they say about lesbians moving quick as fuck. yeah that was true for you and ellie. literally going on a date one week, making it official the next and then she practically moved in after that

neither of you mind, ellie chipped in with food and rent even though you told her you had enough.

(imagine you had ended up with dealer!ellie😳 that itself is a whole other story)

she would start joining your streams, fans would speculate and obviously it was true but they didn’t need to know that just yet.

it was only when you were spotted together holding hands and kissing that i officially came out that you we’re together (celeb tearoom type shit. TMZ drama alert and all that covered it)

you would often try to correlate outfits when you streamed together, if you had pink on then so did she.

there was the usual jealous people that commented against ellie and it did hurt at the beginning. nothing a few words of encouragement and steamy nights with you couldn’t fix.

seriously though, most of your fans adored her. she was quite shy at first and saw how absolutely smitten you were with each other. obsessed with the way you looked at each other when the other looked away

cooking streams that end up being a nightmare. flour and shit everywhere.

speaking of flour. the fans realised you had a special someone in your life when flowers started appearing in the back of your streams. often hung upside down so they last longer.

you eventually get matching tattoos, little hearts on your wrists both with red ink. meaningful but not big. you were both sure you were in it forever but just in case.

(unrelated but imagine ellie with a nose ring)

your fans were nosy sure but they were damn respectful - minus the odd few. if it was obvious you were on a date, all dressed up and i’m a fancy restaurant, they will not interfere which you were super appreciative about

the fans could tell you were in love with each other from day one

#the last of us #fanfic #ellie williams #wlw #tlou2 #ellie williams x female reader #ellie tlou #headcanon #ellie williams headcanons #ellie x reader #streamer!reader #fan!ellie #gamer!ellie #streamer!ellie

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johnwickb1tsch · 18 days

Text

THE DEVILS' TRIANGLE

A Yandere Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick (& now John Constantine) Imagine Part 8 by:

@treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake @johnwickb1tsch and @tammykelly (with honorary dream weavers / shit stirrers @lilspookymeh & @kurai-hono-blog 😘)

Warnings: So many dead doves! Do not eat! Unless you like dead doves, that is. You're in good company here. 😘 Violence, sexual content, blood, murder, kidnapping, possessive behavior, dubcon, yandere sh!t...it's all here! Please take care! 😘

ALL CHAPTERS

PART 8

Johnwickb1tsch:

"Come on, we've got to get you somewhere safe," says John Wick, trying to hustle you down the street.

"No," you protest, resisting. "We have to find John and Tex. They might need us."

You were skeptical about demons and the occult, God and the Devil and everything in between, at first. But after hanging out with Constantine, you'd seen a few things. Just enough that you had sense enough to be scared. You clutch the protection amulet around your neck that John had given you. You'd laughed at him at the time, but now you were glad to have it.

"They're both grown men, honey. I told Tex to leave you alone. This is what he gets."

Suddenly you're angry all over again. "Oh, you told him, huh?" You push John's chest--its like having a disagreement with a brick wall. "Do you have any fucking idea how much I've missed you? How it destroyed me to be thrown away like an old shirt you had no more use for?"

He is still as a mountain as he holds your wrists, preventing you from striking him, but not hurting you. Those dark eyes bore into you, through you. How does he not see you? "Y/n...I did what I thought was best for you."

"But you didn't fucking ask me! Or at least, you didn't listen! But you know what, it doesn't matter right now. John had to put some kind of a curse on Tex in self defense, because Tex is such an asshole, and now they're both in danger!"

"A what?"

You pause to think, and you're pretty sure you know where Constantine would go. There's an old church a few blocks over. Consecrated ground. It's where he's always told you to go if something came after you. It would be a good place to regroup.

"Come on," you say, pulling John in the opposite direction down the street.

For once, he actually listens, a shadow at your back ready to protect you, but he lets you lead the way.

--------------

The old building looks like it should probably be condemned. It's definitely seen better days, and hasn't seen a congregation in at least a decade. However, the ground is still holy, untouchable for the Unclean, and when you burst through the doors after John has already shot down three demons, you are so relieved to see Constantine and Tex sitting in some of the old pews. They definitely look like they've been through a battle, disheveled and beat up. You wonder how much was demons, and how much they did to each other.

"Thank God!" You run to them, and Tex's expression rises and falls as you go to Constantine, pressing your mouth to his in what you know is a needy kiss, assuring yourself as much as him.

He smirks down at you, well aware of the death- stares he's receiving from both sides. It's possible he makes a show of grabbing your ass, just to rub it in to your two Ghosts.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah. You?"

You nod. Then Constantine rolls his eyes upward, over your head to John Wick. He is quietly forbidding in his black suit, standing watch by the door. "That your other Ghost?"

With a tired sigh you nod.

"Ghosts? The fuck is Harry Potter here talkin' about?"

The urge to punch Tex or kiss him is strong as ever.

"The two of you ghosted me, didn't you?"

"Baby girl, I missed you. That's why I came to get you." He shoots a telling glare over at John Wick, who only returns a disinterested look. Maybe the master assassin had been keeping tabs on you, but he hadn't shared everything with Tex, it seems.

Constantine looks between the two assassins, then you, with an infuriating smirk.

"What?" you demand, more than a little exasperated with everthing.

"Nothing. Just seems like you have a type, angel."

You can't even argue.

"Angel?" Tex snorts at your pet name. "Does he even know you?"

"Does he ever shut up?" asks Constantine, raising one dark eyebrow.

"No, never," you sigh.

There is a howl outside that lifts every hair on your body, an unearthly sound that makes your fingers grip in Constantine's suit jacket.

"What are we going to do?"

"Good question." Constantine tugs you over to a different pew, sitting down with his arm draped around your shoulders. His message is obvious, and it's new to you. Constantine rocks your world on the nightly, but he's never been possessive before. It really shouldn't, but it ignites a warmth in your chest that makes you feel ridiculously, stupidly, giddy inside.

"Seems like we're at an impasse, gentlemen."

Tex frowns. John seems less than impressed.

"Sorry, what's stopping us from killing you and taking her?"

You tense, watching the gun John holds loosely at his side. You know Wick can move like lightning, and your heart leaps into your throat. You are ready to fling yourself between them if you have to.

"John..."

"It's ok, sweetheart. He's not going to kill me."

"No offense, but I've heard that before from lots of people who are dead now."

Constantine snorts. "You can't kill me, because I've put a curse on your friend here, and you need me to lift it."

"So lift it."

"Can't. Got a friend who can though. You'll never see him without me."

You know Constantine must be talking about the famed and powerful bokor, Papa Midnite. A chill runs down your spine. You've met him precisely once. He was polite--and hot as fuck, if you're being honest--but you knew he was not to be trifled with.

"So let's go, then," says Tex, his patience lost about three dead demons ago.

"Hold up, Howdy Doody. We got to talk first."

"Bout?"

Constantine nods down at you. "Maybe I don't know all the details, but I've heard enough. And as much as I've enjoyed filling the hole you assholes left--I can't let you hurt her again. I'll let the demons feast on your souls first."

Almost on cue, that demonic howling sounds again outside, and a chorus of hellish hissing rises. It sounds like you are surrounded.

Tex leaps to his feet. "You smug little fucker--"

"Shut up, Tex." It's Wick who shushes his friend. "What do you propose?"

Finally, Constantine looks down at you. "It depends on what she wants."

Your mouth drops open at that. You have to decide that, now? As though he can read your thoughts, and sometimes you're convinced he can, Constantine pays you an infuriating smirk.

"I...don't want them dead. Or...devoured."

"That's a start, I guess. Do you ever want to be with them again?"

Your eyes go wide as saucers. The simple answer, of course, is yes. You love them. You miss them.

However, answers are never so simple, with your Boys involved. Like an idiot, you dare to look at them, taking in Tex's hang-dog puppy-eyed look, and John's quiet but intense yearning. Then, of course, there is the man beside you, who despite his aloofness and his prickly manner, has been nothing but good to you.

You've never said it out loud, but the truth is, you love him too.

"I don't know."

"Yeah. I figured." He smirks at you, inexplicably smug, and you kind of want to smack him too.

Which always leads to interesting things, with John Constantine, your stupid lady parts sing out. Jesus Christ on a cracker, what a fucking mess.

"You got a point, Gandalf?" demands Tex, paying a nervous look to one of the cracked stained glass windows. Ominous dark shapes are flying past outside. This is not good.

"I want you assholes to accept a Spell of Submission to her."

"The fuck does that mean?" demands Tex with a thunderous frown. John remains neutral as he listens.

"It means, if you ever try to make her do something she really doesn't want to do, again, she can say the magic words to fuck up your world. Pardner."

"No fuckin' way," Tex scoffs.

At the same time, John answers, "I'll do it."

Your eyes meet across the aisle of the church. That he would take such a leap of faith-- for you-- drops the floor out from under you.

Tex, of course, interrupts your moment of soul- searching eye contact with John.

"Wait, so we could be havin' an argument and she can drop me dead with the evil eye or somethin'?"

Constantine snorts. "It would probably serve you right, Hee Haw, but no. Cause you extreme pain? Yes. But it comes at a price. All magic does. I know she wouldn't use it lightly."

It would potentially even the playing field quite a bit between you three. The balance of power amongst you had never been fair.

"What's a matter, Tex? You don't trust me?"

"Only as far a I could throw you, darlin'." But his hawk-like look softens for you after a moment, and then surprisingly he grins. "Got me over a barrel now, don't you?"

You shift a little in your seat, so that you're flush against Constantine. The solid line of his lithe warmth beside you is anchoring. You glance up at him, finding he looks arrogantly amused-- and surprisingly, a little sad. If you didn't know him so well you would have missed it, like ripples in a pool.

You turn back to Tex, an uneasy excitement thrumming in your chest.

"If the curse fits?"

The cowboy sighs, frowning at the hellspawn waiting to rend his flesh and eat his soul outside. "Alright, fine. Guess you might as well take it all." He can't look at you while he says it, but you sense his surrender-- or at least, his resignation. It's not exactly a victory, but it's something, and it pulls at your heartstrings.

"Alright, wizard boy. Hoodoo me up."

Constantine snorts, leaping up from the bench. "First we've got to get out of here. You're going to want to cover your eyes." He starts muttering an encantation and walking in a circle, sprinkling a powder on the ground from his pocket. "When this goes off we'll have ten minutes. Either of you assholes have a car nearby?"

"Yeah."

"Great. Hope you like to drive fast."

His chanting gets louder, and you see he's produced a lighter. He never uses it for cigarettes anymore, but portable fire to a magician has its uses. You can tell he's reaching the crescendo of his spell, and you scrunch your eyes closed. Even through your eyelids you see the flash, and the boom of a magical fireball that should have burned you all to dust.

However, only the things outside incinerate, their agonized cries echoing through the cavernous stone building.

"Let's move."

****

As it turns out, John Wick can drive very fast.

You already knew this, of course. Constantine, however, seems to be regretting his life choices as Wick weaves in and out of traffic, trying to find a hand hold as you are whipped around in the cramped back seat of the vintage Chevelle. He clenches his square jaw and glares daggers as Wick makes a quick left juke, the force of it pushing Constantine into the side of the car furthest from you.

You think it's a coincidence, until you meet John Wick's eyes in the rear-view mirror, and you see a glimmer of amusement. On anyone else, it would be all-out gut-busting laughter. You open your mouth to tell him to play nice, but Tex interrupts you—just like old times.

"3 o'clock," barks the cowboy assassin from the shotgun seat. It's fitting, because he quite literally has a sawed-off shotgun in his lap, something from Constantine's cabinet of goodies with arcane symbols scratched into the barrel. Tex and Constantine fought over this seat like it was worth a million dollars, and only the interruption of the literal Hell’s Angels roaring up on you on motorcycles re-focused their attention.

They’ve been trying to run you down for blocks like wolves on a caribou, and with a whip of Wick's wrist on the steering wheel, now you’re being pursued by one less. It over-corrects and crashes into a concrete barrier. Constantine laughs under his breath at the thing’s demise.

However, there are still three more to contend with.

“The club is just ahead,” directs Constantine. “Good luck finding parking.”

“Hold on.”

There's nothing to fucking hold on to in the bare bones back seat—except for Constantine, so that's what you do. He holds your hand with a white knuckled grip that betrays his nerves far more than his expression does

John tricks the motorcycle-riding demons by suddenly slowing down, then gunning the engine, running one over with a sudden burst of speed, then smacking the other two like a pinball flipper with a sudden shift and drift turn.

The car is totally fucked, but so are the hellspawn, so it feels like a win.

When one of them tries to stagger from the wreckage towards you Tex shoots it from out the window. The sound is deafening—and the ball of fire from the barrel of the gun makes you all jump.

“What the fuck is that, John?” you demand.

“Dragon's breath,” he answers you with a little smirk. “Nice work, Hee Haw. You should hunt demons instead of people.”

“What's the pay?”

“Absolute shit with possible stock options in Heaven.”

“No thank you then.”

The four of you pile out of the car and hustle towards the doors of Midnite's.

“This place is supposed to be neutral ground,” says Constantine, “but it's going to be full of demonic half-breeds, so walk fast and stick close.”

Tex turns to you with an incredulous frown. “Baby, I seriously gotta question your taste. Where did you find this wizard boy?”

Constantine looks at you with a smirk, no doubt thinking about your first animalistic tryst in that alleyway by the bar, and how he’d made you cum on his dick with your back chaffed by the hard bricks behind you, your legs wrapped desperately around his slender waist while he pounded inside your needy little cunt.

It had been glorious.

Just the memory of it floods you with a searing heat from your loins to regrettably, your cheeks.

Constantine loves it when he manages to make you blush, and a wicked gleam sparkles in his jetty dark irises.

“Shall I tell him, dear?”

You can tell that Tex’s head is about to explode.

“Not while he’s holding a fire-breathing shotgun, honey.”

Constantine has never really used lovey pet names with you before. It’s almost the weirdest thing that’s happened today.

As you push through the doors of the club it’s almost like entering another dimension, the red lights and bass thump of hedonistic music beyond, the steps down down down like a descent into a nether realm. The bouncer holds up his tarot card, the entrance exam, that Constantine passes like a breeze. “Rat in a dress.”

Bouncer turns to Wick and Tex with a new card, who look at Constantine with almost comical consternation. “They’re with me.”

“Still gotta pass.”

A beat later Constantine punches the burly bouncer out, shaking the sting off his hand. “Sorry,” he says to the unconscious man on the ground. To the rest of you, “Shit. Move fast.”

He bursts through the doors to the main club, striding with purpose on those beautiful long legs. You always feel too cool for school, when you’re on a magical side-quest with John. His broad shoulders part the crowd around you all, and when you’re with Constantine, everyone is looking at you. Half-breed angels, demons, and who knows what in between. Their eyes glow eerily in the low crimson light of the club.

Neither Wick nor Tex betray any fear or surprise at descending into this eldritch side of the City of Angels, intimidating towers at your back, glowering at anyone who looks your way.

Maybe it’s stupid, but in this moment you feel pretty fucking invincible.

It’s definitely stupid, because the creatures on Team Lucifer start to take an acute interest in Tex, their eyes glowing. Even you can feel them pressing closer around you. Constantine is standing at the tufted leather wall, what you know is an illusion hiding a door.

A tall, unfairly hot half-breed saunters into Tex’s personal space, reaching up to touch his cheek with a sultry come-hither smile. Succubus, is your guess, though the possibilities are literally endless. For a moment Tex seems utterly entranced, and it’s all you can do not to roll your eyes. “Sorry, he’s taken,” you say, pulling Tex back with your fingers in his tooled belt to sandwich him between you and Constantine.

Are they going to open the door for you or what? Any time now would be excellent…

Suddenly the half-breed seems a foot taller, looming over you with glowing red eyes. With your heart in your throat you hold up your amulet between you, and though she doesn’t exactly flinch and hiss like you’d hoped, you can tell she doesn’t care for it, her fine features twisting in a sneer like she tasted something nasty.

“Fine,” pouts the demoness. “Change your mind, handsome, you know where to find me.” She punctuates the offer with a flash of razor-sharp teeth before she saunters off with extra swing in her hips.

Tex makes a small sound of pain behind you as he watches her go, and you know he can’t help it. Desire is the Succubus’s power, and she was clearly hunting tonight. It doesn’t stop you from rolling your eyes though, turning to catch John Wick’s gaze. You can tell he’s keeping watch on the room, but he’s also got his eyes on you; that weighty, yearning look that never fails to tie your heart—and your lady parts—up in knots. A wholly inconvenient throb of lust between your legs makes you shift where you stand; suddenly you are soaked, so aware of the solid warmth of Tex at your back, and John towering before you.

Just like old times.

A part of you wants to reach for him, location be damned, an ingrained urge that would be a terrible idea at this time in this place, because if you touch him you’ll have to kiss him and who knows where that will end.

Jesus, was the succubus’s energy affecting you too? Or is it just…them?

There is a heady weight in the air, like something malevolent is about to descend upon you all. With your heart in your throat you clutch at the talisman around your neck, and though you’re not really sure which deity you’re entreating for salvation, you pray.

At last the door swings open, and Constantine finds your elbow, tugging you none too gently with him inside Papa Midnite’s inner sanctum. Naturally, where you go, the boys follow close behind.

“John Constantine,” says Papa Midnite in his melodic baritone. “Been some time. I see you’ve brought friends.”

“Wouldn’t go that far,” snarks Constantine with a baleful look at the two assassins at your back. “But I need your help.”

“The Great John Constantine needs my help?” mocks Papa. “Must be sometin’ bad.”

You’re not proud of the panic that rises in your throat at the sound of Midnite’s reluctance to help you. You know that pretty much everyone in the supernatural world has been pissed off at Constantine for some reason or another, but you pray this man can rise above his grudge. If not…Tex is fucked, and maybe it’s stupid after everything he did to you, but just the thought leaves a hollow ringing inside your heart.

You dare to peek around from Constantine’s imposing form. “Please, Papa?” you entreat, your eyes wide. You have met once before, and on that occasion the powerful witch doctor seemed to like you, though he didn’t cease to deride what a girl like you could possibly be doing with the likes of John Constantine. “We really need your help.”

Papa Midnite tilts his fedora-topped head to regard you with curiosity. He is wearing one of his delightfully loud shirts with a fur collared jacket. A gold necklace gleams against the dark skin of his throat. “Who needs my help, little girl? You, or him?” He points at Constantine with the jut of his chin.

“I do,” you both answer at the same time. You realize Constantine doesn’t want you to owe the powerful Bokor a favor—but you’re reading the room, and you’re pretty sure if the magic is for Constantine, Midnite is going to tell you all to pound rocks.

Midnite, understanding all of this, sits back in his throne of a chair with a little chuckle, drumming gold-bedecked fingers on the carved wooden arm.

“What is it you need?”

“A curse lifted,” answers Constantine. “And a spell cast.”

Midnite whistles at hearing that, and only then does his attention turn to the assassin at your back. “I can sense the dark mark from here,” says the witch doctor. “Let me see.”

With a grumble Tex pulls at his collar, pearl snap buttons popping to reveal the blackened circular pentacle, its 8 radii tipped with symbols, embedded beneath his skin. At the sight of it Midnite smirks, his eyebrows lifting high.

“Set thou a wicked one to be ruler over him, and let Satan stand at his right hand,” cites Midnite. “That a powerful curse t’set on someone, Constantine.”

“It was a heat of the moment thing,” grumbles the demon hunter.

“I can tell. Takes some big feeling, to conjure a curse like dis from thin air.”

That’s when Midnite looks at you, and that stupid blush of heat ambushes you again.

Feelings were not something you and John Constantine talked about. Sure, they were there, but you never really gave voice to them. You demonstrated them, physically, and often. Midnite seems bent on embarrassing both of you.

“Yeah, yeah,” grouses Constantine, only daring to glance in your direction. But in that single moment, the raw look on his face makes you feel like you need to sit down. “So can you lift it or not?”

“Course I can,” says Midnite dismissively. “What you bring me in return?”

“’Fraid I’ll have to owe you.”

“Hmm. I’ve heard that one too many times from the likes of you, Constantine. I’ll need somethin’ up front.”

“Do you like gold?” asks John Wick blandly, producing five glittering yellow coins from his pocket, setting them on the table in front of Papa Midnite in a neat stack one by one. The pretty tink tink tink of metal fills the air, and Midnite nods with his lips pursed, paying Wick an approving look. However, as he examines the death’s head emblazoned token, it is you he speaks to.

“How did a nice girl like you get tangled up wit Underworld boys like dis?”

A shuddering sigh escapes you, as a montage of the absolute fire you walked through to get to this moment flashes in your mind. The murder, the kidnapping, the chaos and corruption. The passion, the pleasure, and the quieter moments that made you think you might be content to stay with your Boys forever—until they forced you to go.

“It’s a long story, Papa,” you answer, barely able to raise your voice over a whisper.

“Some other time, you’ll tell me, then. Step into my office.”

Midnite leads you to his back room, a cavernous space built in the breathtakingly ornate style of the Moorish palaces of Andalusia. At first you don’t know where to look. The arabesque carved walls, the scalloped arches, the honeycomb vaulted ceilings, or the cacophony of antique relics stacked high on all sides. There are statues and busts and boxes and dolls, this and that and bric-a-brac and every category of precious old junk you can imagine, is here. Your eye is drawn to an old wooden chair against the far wall with leather straps that for some reason gives you chills.

The center of the room is empty, the demarked circle where Midnite performs his workings outlined with bones, half-burnt candles, and rusty lines on the tiles that look like blood.

“Now then,” says Midnite, taking a sip from a bottle of dark rum before offering it to Tex. “Drink up, man. Dis not gonna feel good.”

***

When all is said and done, the four of you all feel like pieces of chewed up gum. You are utterly wiped, and it’s all you can do not to fall asleep in the back of the car with your head on Constantine’s shoulder. Fingering your new tattoo, a mystical symbol that binds Tex Johnson and John Wick to your will, you think on what Papa Midnite said to you before your departure.

“Hard to live with a heart divided in three pieces, girl. You playin’ a dangerous game.”

“It’s not a game to me, Midnite. It’s just…my life, somehow.”

“Dat fair. So you know, I told that silly boy of yours to put a ring on your finger ‘fore he lost the chance. Never seen him like dis, wit any other.”

You’d paid him a grim smile, amused at the thought of Constantine asking you to be his wife. What a laughable prospect. Sweet, but there was no way he felt that about you. “Are you telling me not to break your friend’s heart, Midnite?”

He’d snorted and taken a drink of rum. “I know better than that. But you might tink about what he’ll turn into, if tings go badly.”

Truth be told, you didn’t want to think on that, because it terrified you. All you wanted right now, was to curl up in the bed you shared with John Constantine, and sleep for about seven years.

Midnight had given you a herbal potion that had to be administered to Tex every six hours for a week, and a magical salve to apply to the burn upon his chest where the symbol had, at one point, burst into white-hot flame. You’d feared he’d been at death’s door, until he took your hand with a smirk and mumbled half to you, half to himself, “The things I do for my little rattlesnake.” It had squeezed your heart with a fist, utterly wrecked you, and you knew you couldn’t kick him to the curb just yet.

You were headed back to Constantine’s house, (which you had helped him get together the down payment for, with no strings attached, so…) and the four of you would have to figure out how to co-exist, at least until Tex was back on his feet.

Then…who the fuck knew what was going to happen.

You’d think about that, tomorrow.

Tammykelly:

- a flashback -

Sleep long forfeited to yet another night full of vigorous dance that is the celebration of passion and ever growing connection and affection between two souls who’d found one another amidst chaos that unfailingly enters one’s life book when it flips through the pages onto the next chapter. Gradually, chaos learns the code of order, tamed by the new rules and beginnings, sought after by you and Constantine in an unhasty pace.

You feel the blossom of his soft lips on yours for a while, before you pull away to take a long look at him, running your fingers along his sweaty forehead and through his slightly damp hair. He feels his chest tighten at the way your gaze moves across his tilted up face and lingers on his eyes, entering beyond the physical and reaching for subliminal.

“Hi”, - Constantine croaks, his arms draped around your waist, steadying you, as your heated bodies stay impossibly close.

“Hey, baby”, - you breathe out, your touch leaves traces on his skin in feather-like movements, making his heart flutter.

“You call me that like it means something”, - he wonders out loud.

It must be true, that the eyes are the windows to the soul, for when he says that, you feel the heat of your body grow stronger when his irises light up with an inexplicably warm spark that transforms into the taste of him on your ever waiting lips, while your hips drag out the sensually slow pace. You try to find the perfect rhythm again, having felt yourself folding under the intensity with which your heart blooms and expands every time his dark eyes capture yours.

“I…uh…I’m….”, - you blurt out, the right words stuck at the edge of the said sacred dilation.

Maybe it is love. Love that sprouts across the silver lining that is the tenuous punchline between sanity and deliberate madness of passion. Constantine’s body reacts to yours before his mind has to think about it, as he gently tugs you closer. He doesn’t let you finish, his lips connecting to yours, catching your love on his tongue in a long deliciously flavorful kiss.

He touches your bullet scar, his jawline playing, his eyes darkening.

“They’re gonna pay for what they did to you”, - he quietly tells you again, voice filled with determination that invites more ephemeral warmth into your chest.

“They already did”, - you reply, reminiscence of their absence dissipating into the background of your subconscious when your tongue slides along Constantine’s jaw, tasting tiny droplets of sweat.

“They gotta pick someone their size, yeah?”

His reply makes you smile: “Please, we’ve talked about this, baby”, you feel goosebumps arise at the back of his neck at the nickname, no matter how nonchalant he wants to appear each time you call him a random pet name.

“You care about them? Even after everything they’ve done to you?” - his raspy voice is low but the tone sets a prelude to a gradually boiling point.

“They’re the best I’ve ever had”, he leans back and quirks his eyebrow at your tease, “after you, of course”, you add, smirking.

He lets out a sigh of frustration: “Jesus, it’s like talking to a fucking brick wall”, you feel his fingers dig deeper into your soft skin. You lean closer, your breath over his mouth.

“Calling God’s name when you’re balls deep in me?” your voice akin to a purr, “what a profanity”, a smirk curls up.

“Mhhmm, funny thing is He made this happen”, Constantine’s tone matches your game.

“And is Jesus present in the room with us?” your head tilts.

“Oh, you think it’s funny?” he bucks his hips up.

“You literally just said it is”, an involuntary moan escapes your mouth, lost in the grunt of the man underneath you, when you match his cheat code with a harsh movement of your own.

“It’s an expression”.

“Okay and?”

“Watch your mouth”, - Constantine’s eyes transform into a pair of two burning coals, sending shivers across your whole body, accompanied by the way his fingertips trace down your spine.

You can barely make a sound due to his manipulations: “Can’t read minds, baby”, making it his turn to shudder.

“What, don’t have any better ideas?” he recuperates, the warmth of his arms leave you, as he places his hands behind him on the bed to support his weight. You don’t wait to connect your mouth to his, your teeth sinking into his lower lip before you lightly tug at it and let go. A cocky grin instantaneously leaves his handsome face when he feels your tongue crash into his mouth, which he reciprocates with twice as much force and eagerness, his arms lock back around your waist, and he notices a triumphant smile display itself on your features.

“An angel risen from ashes picked up by the devil reborn”, you answer his question, teasing the idea of which one’s which when you first met. Him - a cancer free phoenix-like angel of death, or you - a devilishly sweet temptress, who, unbeknownst to herself, exchanged two deadly ghosts for the black cat of a man, stuck in between both realms.

You continue: “He always had a rotten sense of humour. And His punch lines are killers”, Constantine’s gaze darkens at the mention of your ghosts.

“Ha-ha, very funny”, his tone less than amused.

“Oh, you find this funny now?” you bite his neck, which makes a deep husky groan erupt from his throat.

“Don’t tell me you believe this fate bullshit”, you say, as you fight the urge to speed up your pace to chase the way his sultry sounds bounce around your insides.

His low growl nearly shatters your self control when he tells you: “Fate or not, you’re mine now. Mine”, you feel his teeth sink into your skin, “you hear me?”, his gaze when he looks up akin to the explosion of a sleeping volcano underneath an already blazing ocean, edging you onto the border of a slippery slope that is the point of no return once you process the 3 magic words that are glued to your tongue.

Instead two short words roll off, as a soft moan:“Yes, baby”.

“Gonna give you everything you want”, you feel his hands roam all over your body, “all of me”.

You lean back.

“All of you?”- your expression flickers with darkness, showing him your devilish desire, as his silent gaze shaves off the outer layers down to your core.

“You son of a bitch”, you breathe out, smiling, after a brief pause, for your racing heartbeat shifts to a contracting and pulsating firework, overtaking all of your senses. You study his handsome face, drinking in all the details you’ve grown so attached to, florescence of affection tugging your lips upwards in a gentle smile.

Constantine’s eyes set the fire in the pit of your belly ablaze on the scale that you’re sure will be the death of you some day, for being with him is like Heaven on Earth and being apart now seems like a cruel tool of a ghostly destruction.

His playful grin pulls you back in: “Calling me a son of a bitch when I got you on my dick? You’re brave, kitten”.

“That’s exactly why I can call you that. You’re my son of a bitch”, you grab his hair and give it a nice pull before you lean down to lick up his neck, placing a gentle kiss right under his ear, feeling him twitch inside you, “and Devil’s right hand, yeah?”

“More like his puppet”, Constantine grunts, as you look down at him, sensing him barely able to maintain the slow[ish] pace you’ve set, holding onto the last threads of self-restraint.

“So, no rewards for that, I suppose?”, you tease further, testing the limits of the mind games he’s been playing with you all day long.

“Afraid not, angel”.

“Let me be the one to send you to Heaven then”, you whisper right against his ear and kiss his temple.

All the blurry lines of will power come tumbling down, when the sound of him sucking air through his teeth enters your inner space, as Constantine’s hand finds its place between your jawline and neck.

Gradually, you encourage his index and middle fingers between your lips, his irises unable to focus anywhere else but the way you take them in, his whole body akin to a molten liquid metal, his fingers melting on your tongue. You giddily lick them, your tongue swirling around them, playing with his digits like lollipop toys, until you let go and take care of the saliva under Constantine’s furnace of a carnally hungry gaze.

You feel your hips stuttering against the increasing pace, when you hear his raspy voice: “Fuck, kitten, you feel like Heaven”, the energy between your bodies and feverish kisses multiplying in increasingly all consuming vehement abundance that can crack the earth open.

“Touché”.

A half smile coats his lips at your cute quip.

“Watch”, you tell him, his eyes shifting to the mirror somewhere behind you.

The heat of his hips rolling against yours at the speed that finds you both panting and sweaty messes is more than enough for him to tip over the edge but as his eyes take in the scene of your power over him, his body proceeds to come apart under you when your fingers wrap around his throat and apply pressure, slightly tipping his face up.

“Open”, you say, your thumb glazing over his soft lips, and he raises an eyebrow, “don’t you wanna cum, baby?”, you sweetly inquire.

“Fuck”, his voice is barely audible, Constantine’s eyes glimmer under your watchful lust, the darkness in the depth of the bottomless abyss that is him transcending what has become of his power over you. His eyelids flutter slightly, as your spit falls on his tongue.

“Swallow”, you reward him with a particularly harsh snap of your hips, seeing his Adam’s apple bobble.

“You’re gonna pay for that”, he growls.

“You’re a drama queen, you know that?”, you point out, leaving a love-bite mark on his collarbone, knowing damn well at the way he’s twitching inside you, he won’t be lasting long. You smirk, as you slow down the pace to a damn near full stop, eliciting a low and deep whine from him.

What the fuck, his eyes show you, roaming over your face hungrily.

“Tell me how much you want me”, you purr, feeling his fingers next to your scalp, tugging you closer.

“Fuck, angel, wanna feel you so bad”, an angelically evil smile plays on your face at his response, “need you on biblical level”, he finishes, the butterflies inside you catching aflame, their fiery wings spreading across every fibre of your being.

Constantine feels like he might go insane without you, your whole existence being the lone salvation he’s been seeking his entire life. He twitches again.

“Say that again”, your sultry tone pervades his mind, the pace picking up just a tiny bit.

“Need you to move, right now”, he begs.

You look at him expectantly.

“I can’t control myself any longer. Please, fuck me”, he looks up into your eyes that have turned into blazingly bright gates to the oblivion that is his path to purgatory. His gaze diverts back to the mirror and your goddess-like form against his.

“God, you’re sexy when you beg”, you whisper, Constantine can practically hear the cocky smirk in your voice, as a loud moan erupts from his throat, while he watches himself get ruined by everything that is you.

“I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel”, you exhale, listening to the way your name exits his lips akin to a gust of wind, blowing across an infinite ocean.

“Cheeky little girl”, he barely replies between the chain-smoke of moans.

“Fuck you”, you breathe out.

“Say no more”, he chuckles, his lips and teeth leaving bruises all over your sensitive chest, his hips meeting yours at an increasingly high speed.

“Fuck me harder”, he growls, his lips soliciting moans from yours.

“What a good girl”, he purrs and smiles against your neck, feeling your speed folding, as you attempt to gain the upper hand.

“My beautiful angel”, Constantine praises, kissing down the valley of your breasts, enjoying every single breathless moan that you leave for him to treasure, “you’re doing so well”, he continues, “I love it when you fuck me like this”, his lips graze yours before another storm of a kiss unfolds itself.

“Oh, yeah?”

“So good, I need you to fuck me like this every day”, his teeth tug your lower lip and let go, his open-mouth kiss then imprinting a picture of his love for you on your tongue.

“Need this pussy for breakfast, lunch and fucking dinner”, - a husky growl of his makes your insides deliciously twist.

“Say less”, you giggle after the kiss breaks apart, only for a yet another wave of kissing, biting, hair pulling and power play, resembling a balanced match, surpass the two of you.

You feel as if the sun that is the man, obeying your all desires, is scorching you with a strong nurturing vitality, meeting you halfway anytime you slip.

The sun, sometimes deadly, shining its light on you and sharing the experience of birth of the stars with you, until all you and Constantine know is that you can’t tell where one begins and the other ends.

“Cum for me, baby”, you whisper, your eyes hazily gazing into his.

“Fuck”, he moans into your mouth, as you and him become one in an endless explosion of lustful starlight.

You both take a moment to steady your breathing, the pulses of your bodies streaming along the lines of your silhouettes akin to the red string of fate. Suddenly, you feel yourself getting lifted and plopped on the bed, the heavy weight hovers above you.

“My turn”, Constantine growls, worshipping you and your body in a form of myriad of kisses, adoring your skin.

“I’m not finished with you”, you chuckle, pulling his face to yours.

“Wanna ride your pretty face so badly”, you breathe out shakily, watching his pupils dilate, turning his dark chocolate eyes into jet-black colour of the night outside your windows.

He kisses you deeply before teasing: “Should’ve said sooner, princess”, and flips you.

Before you know it, his lips are connected to your nether ones, placing sweet kisses on God’s bewitching and intricate creation.

“Oh, fuck!”, a scream leaves your mouth, as you lose control over your limbs when Constantine demonstrates his vicious payback for all of your previous manipulations, the delirious temptation to play him exiting your body like it was never there.

The way his tongue devours you till the last drop like a man starved, you assume you’re not the only one losing yourself to this trick of devilish pleasure, pulling you deeper into the whirlpool that keeps expanding wave by wave until it comes thundering through your body like a tsunami, then crashing onto a shore over and over, the sound of your screams mixing with the magnitude of Constantine’s sonic savouring of your most precious parts till his immeasurable hunger for all divinity that is you is satiated beyond your limits.

Songs for the delulu meal:

The best I ever had by Limi

Obsessed by Zandros ft. Limi

Dangerous woman Call out my name mix

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

You don’t know if it’s some kind of magic, or if you’re just this petty. But, damn, that succubus did piss you off. Even worse than her, with her silky black hair and sweet milk skin and inviting, rosy eyes and cheeks.. You catch yourself mid thought, determined to pluck her from your brain.

Yes, even worse than that half breed bitch - Jesus, who are you? - was watching Tex suffer and bleed. Blue lips forming around a silent scream; a beg for the ritual to stop. Tan, supple skin turned ashen gray and tented. Dark eyes blown milky and wild with terror.

There’s another memory you have to get rid of somehow: Tex dying a slow, grueling death in some hellish, accelerated time loop. In front of you. Powerless you.

You have his take home medications clutched tightly to your torso as the Johns lug him inside, one under each arm, his feet stumbling and dragging so much that Wick decides to just pick him up.

Why in the world did that make you so delighted? To see John Wick carrying Tex Johnson bridal style across Constantine’s threshold?

Your smile wipes clean, though, when you realize that Tex has not made a witty quip or even grinned at this show of brotherhood. John deposits him on the couch, and you sit on the floor beside, holding his hand. Your stomach lodges into your chest when you feel how cold he is. Your human heater turned ice box.

“Tex,” you say softly, brushing the untamed thicket of hair from his eyes.

He keeps his eyes closed, but that fond little tick of his mouth lets you know he hears you loud and clear.

You swallow your pride. “I missed you, too.”

You hope to God he’ll harass you for saying that, later.

For now, a grunt will suffice.

This man has put you through hell, but fuck, if he hasn’t been heaven all the way through it. You had really thought he was dying back there, and it…. put things into perspective.

Wick is in the kitchen dwarfing the tiny dining table with Constantine. Not talking, not even looking at one another. Some kind of tension exists between them, but at least it’s not the awkward or homicidal kind… well, at least as far as you can tell.

You grab some cold bourbon from the fridge, pour 3 glasses, and dish them out. Then, you hop up on the counter and join this sinewy silence game.

Wick breaks the skin, twin eyes meeting Constantine’s. “Thank you,” he says.

Constantine grins tightly. “Consider it repayment.”

“For?”

Oh, here we fucking go.

Constantine, the bastard prodigy of Lucifer himself - or, he might as well be - doesn’t answer, instead nudging his chin and shoulder toward you, as if you’re some prize Wick handed to him on a silver platter.

Now, you don’t really know what to expect from John. Fiercely protective, aloof John. But it’s definitely not a grin. A fucking grin. Yeah, he really has gone totally batshit. Terrifying.

Constantine looks stumped, and so do you.

“I’m gonna get going,” Wick says, standing and draping his jacket around his arms. You get a strong wiff of delicious leather and diesel and gunpowder.

“You’re leaving?” This comes out of your mouth before you can stop it.

“Yeah.”

“What about Tex?”

“I’ll be near.”

No use fronting now.

“What if something happens? What if we need you -“

Constantine cuts off your increasingly frantic voice. “I think you should stay.”

It’s Wick’s turn to look stumped. He raises a dark eyebrow. Constantine rewords.

“Please. Stay. We may need you.” Constantine looks over at you, giving that you owe me leer.

Your nerves settle when Wick puts his jacket back on the rack and slips his shoes off, looking at you all the while.

John Wick sleeps in the little broom closet turned guest room, and you and Constantine retire to your bedroom. This place is purely a you sanctuary, with incense burners and tapestries and little trinkets you’ve collected from your travels. It’s a souvenir from your limited therapy sessions, and a much needed safe space.

Before you can shut the bedroom door, you hear John’s monotone voice turn doting. It reminds you of being soothed through an orgasm, him cradling you when you cried - the hum that disarms and breaks you.

You go to him, peaking inside the narrow door that he had to duck to get through. Killy is rubbing against Wick’s torso, purring, headbutting, her tiny fluffy body practically vibrating from the attention of his big hand.

He smiles at you. “Who’s this?”

“Oh, meet Baby Killy. She’s so shy usually.”

“Pretty kitty,” John coos, scratching behind her ears as she chirps for him.

Great, you’re jealous of a cat. Which is stupid because you have a whole other man in the next room that can’t keep his hands off you. You’re selfish, you realize.

“Sorry it’s not comfortable,” you tell Wick, looking at his calves hanging off the tiny mattress. “I can buy an air mattress.”

He twirls Killy’s tail softly around his finger. “It’s fine, y/n. Get some rest.”

“Yeah. Night John.” You leave him, pretending it’s not reluctantly.

Constantine is already in his boxers, cigarette nipped between his teeth. You pluck it from him and take a long drag. “Thought we were supposed to be quitting?” Blowing smoke over his lips.

He tugs you down into the bed with him. “I’ve had a long day.”

“Aw, poor thing.” You kiss his jaw, shimmying the white stick back into his mouth.

Your lips trail feather light down his quivering throat, nose pausing, nuzzling against his quickening pulse. A shy, involuntary smile slides into his collarbone divot. Your magic man shivers under you, makes you feel like you can kick God’s ass if it really comes down to it.

He gently fists your hair in his fingers while you suck the hard day off his skin, hand trailing south on his tight twitching tummy, lazily perusing in search of a swelling, sensitive, beautiful cock trapped in cloth.

He smushes the half cigarette out in your little pearlescent ashtray, tips your face up, kisses you soft. Kisses you like you like you’re some being of fleeting, fragile light and hope. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You grin against his mouth, using that familiar formal, ironic greeting that he favors when you’re both wading knee deep into eachother’s personal space already.

You pull away to look down at his tenting boxers, but your eyes snag something on the way. A big, fresh bruise to his opposite collar - wide and diffuse as if from a large hand. It’s normal for Constantine to have bruises, and he did fight demons today. But this mark? Fresh. Just blooming. Plus, the only one on his long, expansive body.

Your mind thinks back to the kitchen, how they were both so quiet. Looking far too innocent. You feel stupid for not expecting this.

“Did John hit you?” You’ve gotten really good at talking before thinking. Just one of many Constantine mannerisms you’ve picked up along the journey of knowing him.

“We talked.”

You go to get up. No plan in mind except hurting Wick. Really hurting him. Either with words or a quicker fist than he can catch. Probably the latter, since John excels at catching fists, but you still think you can slice him just as much with a few well placed sentences. Of course, you could also try out this nifty new spell of submission..

Constantine holds you in place. “I started it.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” You see him wince at the sinister growl in your voice, and your spiked fur smooths a little bit if only for his benefit. “He’s a fucking asshole. He thinks he can just bully people into submission. Let’s see how he likes it.” You’re talking loud enough that you hope Wick can hear it. You know he’s not scared… because it’s John Wick, but, you at least hope he knows you’re coming for his throat.

“Angel.” Constantine’s long, careful fingers cup your face. “It’s alright. Not tonight. Let you kick his ass tomorrow, okay? Right now, I need you with me. Hey, look at me…. There you are. You hearing me?”

You lean into his touch and kiss his wrist. “Yeah, okay.”

“C’mon.” He pats his chest and you lay your head on it. “Now, where were we..”

You give a little chuckle. “In the pit of despair?”

He gathers your hair and pulls it off your shoulder, tickles his fingers over your neck. “I think…” he murmurs.

“Yeah?” It thrills and scares you a little bit that this man can make such a breathy, desperate mess of you from just a tiny touch.

“Think you should put on some pajamas and let me read to you.”

Suddenly, your anger runs dry, replaced by excitement. He laughs at your hopeful, mystified expression.

“You’re gonna read to me?”

“Yeah, yeah. Better hurry before I change my mind.”

You love it when Constantine reads to you, always mesmerized by that smooth, baritone voice, and it’s not often that he’s up for it.

You don’t bother going into the bathroom to get dressed, which you can tell he appreciates. You can also tell that he loves the fact that you bypass your own clothes entirely and instead throw on one of his big flannels.

You cuddle beside him, wrap your arms around his waist and tuck in for your after dark entertainment.

“Hey, hey, Angel.” It takes you a minute to open your eyes. Constantine assists this process with a pleasant rub between your shoulder blades and a hushed voice.

“Huh?” Your voice is groggy, far away, brain still swimming in twilight.

Constantine gives you a patient stretch of time to wake and groan and wipe the spare drool from your chin. The blue dawn outside tells you that it’s early - way too early. You don’t remember falling asleep, and it must have been a glorious one judging by your wicked bed head and sore voice.

“What? What’s going on?”

“Clint Eastwood won’t let James Bond give him his medicine. He says he wants you to do it.”

“Are you serious?” You ask.

Constantine opens his mouth, then shuts it again. He sighs. “Yeah.”

“What the fuck,” you mumble.

Tex, eyes open, sitting up, cat on his lap, looks at you like you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread. Big, appreciative grin. You can’t be annoyed for too long when you see that he has color back in his face.

“Hello, nurse.”

Damn his infectious grin. “What? John’s not a good enough nurse for you?”

“He’s alright. Not very cute, though.” He sizes you up as you roll your eyes and snort.

He gives you a little wink. “See you still hate wearin your own clothes.”

You look down at yourself - at the big cozy button flannel that falls mid thigh with nothing else on under or over it. You really didn’t even think about how exposed you were when you got up and came out here. But, now, you’re flushing and shifting on your feet.

“Oh, don’t get shy on me now, rattlesnake. I’ve had all of it in my mouth anyway, yeah?”

Sinful reels flit through your memories. And, fuck you, but even that makes you so wet you can feel it in the crease of your thighs already.

The reality hits you that this could be a thing, somehow: Johnson and the Johns with you pressed between. You short circuit thinking about it for a solid twenty seconds.

Tex chuckles, pets Killy. “Your momma’s too easy,” he tells her, and the traitor purrs and merrs and pushes into his doting palm as if in agreement.

Great, two treasonous pussy’s in this house.

Plus, you’re about ninety nine percent sure Constantine will do more than curse them if he sees their hands on you in any carnal way. Even though this thing between the two of you is unestablished and unlabeled, your magic man is more than a little possessive.

You remember, fondly, the time he pissed you off, so you went on a date with a nice young gentleman who also happened to be a cop - Johnny, you think his name was. Jesus fuck, you really do have issues - and Constantine blew every fuse in that restaurant with a spell. In the pitch black, no one saw him come pick you right up and carry you out. That night started with “fuck you, Constantine” and ended with “no no agh fuck please m’ sorryjohnsosorry.”

Wick’s nowhere to be found, which you don’t really mind. If you see him again, you might just try kicking him in the dick. You mix Tex’s medicines in the kitchen, heating up the thick herbal soup in a little pot. It smells bad, kinda like fish, draws Killy’s attention really quick.

She brushes against your legs and reminds you that she’s hungry and that oh, that smells good, mom.

You scoop her out a cup of kitty kibble while the stove simmers, then give her a few pets. It’s not often that she’s so doting on you - she prefers Constantine and solidarity over your company. But, she must know something’s up - either that or it’s the fishy concoction steaming up your little kitchen.

Tex winces when you rub the salve into his burn. It looks awful - dry and necrotic, little charred skin flakes sticking to your fingertips.

You scrub them off on a towel, grimacing. “Does this hurt?”

“Numb,” he shrugs. Reaches out to tuck hair behind your ear. Your body reacts violently and insistently. Constantine’s touch, pleasant and warm and diffuse; that’s what you’re used to. You forgot about Tex’s sharp edges, the scary thrill of him. Like the first drop of the roller coaster.

“Tex,” you warn.

“Sorry, darlin. Just so fuckin pretty. Forgot how beautiful you are, is all. How good ya smell. Christ, even with Houdini’s scent all over you.” He pinches your chin in his fingers and makes you look at him, at the sincerity in his blown black pupils and hooded, lustful gaze. “He eatin your pussy right, huh? Need me to show him how to do it?”

“You know,” you say, hating yourself for the thick in your voice, “I have this nifty new spell I can use…”

He chuckles. “Settle down, honeypie, I’m just trying to be nice, is all.”

“Nice.” You glare at him and he lets you go.

The fishy stuff in the mug wipes the grin right off Tex’s face. He chokes and sputters. “Good God, what in hell’s name is this Guacala shit.”

You smile at him and take the empty cup. “Every six hours, cowboy.”

On your way back into the bedroom, he watches you unabashedly. Killy is back on his lap. “You got a shower here, rattlesnake?”

“Bathroom’s down the hall,” you tell him.

“Think I need some help.”

“Uh huh. You can manage.”

“Alright, you got me. I don’t really need help I just wanna fuck the shit outta ya.”

“Sorry, Tex, but that’s-“ you look pointedly at the purring feline in his lap -“the only pussy you’ll be getting in this house.”

You shut your door before you can catch his mumble: “we’ll just see about that.”

Constantine is in his study. You debate going and fucking him on the desk chair, working off this sticky arousal coating your cunt and inner thighs. But, also, you’re still sleepy, and laying down in the bed already has your eyelids fluttering closed and brain going mushy. You struggle between options until your body eventually decides for you.

You wake up to the delicious evocation of salt and fat and heat. John Wick is back. He’s in the kitchen cooking one of those five star breakfasts that are worth letting him live. For now.

Bread pops up from the toaster, startling you. “Hey, that’s been broken.”

“Fixed it,” he says, dexterously flipping his pan. “Got the faucet to work in the bathroom sink. Your drain’s here are built wrong. I’m gonna take a look after I finish breakfast. There’s fresh orange juice and chocolate milk in the fridge. Coffee on the warmer.”

“That’s not my coffee pot.” You eye the expensive looking, silver, sleek appliance with steaming black, delicious smelling brew under.

“I got a new one.”

Are you really surprised at this point? You grab some orange juice from the fridge, and find the once bare shelves stocked and organized with fresh fruits and veggies, eggs and jams, healthy pre-made snack boxes.

The cupboards have also magically filled themselves with canned fruits and veggies, organic breads, high end trail mixes, protein bars.

The place is spotlessly clean. New microwave, an ice maker beside the stove. Real glasses and plates stacked in the cupboards.

Wick has been busy, it seems.

Constantine walks into the kitchen, paying attention to the newspaper in his hand instead of his surroundings until he sees you. “Hey, Angel-“ looks up, takes in the practically brand new kitchen. “What in the fuck.”

#wicked johnson fic #john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fic #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #yandere john wick #tex johnson #tex johnson x reader #tex johnson x you #yandere tex johnson #constantine x you #john constantine x you #constantine 2005 #john constantine x reader #constantine x reader #keanu reeves

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redflagshipwriter · 2 months

Text

Reassembly 1

Masterpost

inspired by the iconic DC/marvel crossover Dark Matter that was actually the only reason I started reading DC (so if you like my DC stuff, Mystery Cyclone is who you have to thank)

The first thing that Peter registered was pain. His whole body felt like an electrical burn.

It was a relief to be in bone splitting pain, for about an instant. That was enough time for Peter to joyously process, 'I'm alive?' It came with a flood of endorphins. Holy cow, he was alive! How had Mr. Stark saved him? Did they win after all?

That next instant was when he fully processed the pain he was in. His whole body was burning cold. He opened his mouth to scream and he inhaled a viscous, sour liquid. He choked on it, hands flying to his throat. He opened his eyes and everything was filtered through a shadowy green. He couldn't see anything but green. He felt panic and it didn’t feel natural.

It didn't take Peter long to regret opening his eyes. It burnt. He gasped again despite knowing he wasn't going to get air. He closed them again but it didn’t help anything.

'I'm drowning! I'm drowning? Why am I drowning!?'

When did he get in the water??? The last thing he remembered was being on Titan! Titan wasn't notably wet!

It didn't matter, he could figure that out later. He swam. He only moved a little before he hit something. Peter flung his hands up flat against something hard, smooth, and cool. It felt like glass. He felt like a wild thing, feral and desperate. There was a light show behind his eyelids– or maybe an electric light was flickering madly a few moments before it died, casting him further into darkness.

'I'm going to make a mess.'

His hindbrain was running the show, so the guilty thought was just background noise as he made fists and banged on what he really hoped was glass. It broke.

He expected the glass to shatter or something and the water to all rush out in a dramatic wave. Instead, he felt it sort of collapse away from his hands and he distantly heard the glug of draining water filtered through the burning liquid all around him.

It still hurt, everything hurt. He had to get out! He hit the glass again in desperation. This time it broke more dramatically. Water rushed out with enough force to dash Peter against the broken glass.

It knocked the air out of his lungs- but he didn't have air. So instead he violently heaved that horrible green jelly out in a dramatic spray. He heard it hit what sounded like a hard surface.

And he heard screams.

Peter's eyes flew open. He blinked rapidly and fought the urge to scrub at his face with his hands. The odds that he had small shards of glass on them was uncomfortably high.

His spider sense switched on violently. His full body jerked.

Holy shit. Leaving the tube had apparently been a very bad decision for his safety.

'What is this?'

He was in a dark room. The only light was coming in through the glass pane on the top half of a door. He stumbled towards it. His whole body was loosening with relief as the green slime sluiced off of him.

The door was locked. Before he’d processed why it hadn’t opened Peter stupidly turned the handle a second time. Right. Of course. It was still locked. That was how locks worked.

It took a moment to think of what to do.

He forced the door open. There was an ugly crack in the doorframe. He didn't look as he stumbled out into a hallway. It was white tiled, with off white walls and the long lines of fluorescent lights overhead.

'I've been taken captive by someone who doesn't have an interior decorator.'

It wasn't much, but it was a clue. Mr. Stark would be able to exclude a lot of villains with that information. Peter looked both ways, heart pounding. Where should he go? He had no idea where he was or what was going on. One end of the hallway was silent. The other had the sounds of a distant but desperate fight.

That was when he realized he was naked. Peter was standing in a hallway absolutely naked, and still wet with green goop soup.

He turned away from the sounds of people.

Instantly he felt guilty, but he was naked! Peter ran, wet feet slapping on the tile. It was absurd. It should have been funny. It wasn't. He felt frantic and halfway insane and he still hurt.

'I hurt before, too,' he remembered. 'On Titan, everyone disappeared and then I hurt and I fell and Mr. Stark said-'

He shoved the thought deep, deep down before he became a gibbering wreck. Later. He'd think about it later.

For now he threw open doors as he came across them. Most of them were locked. Peter threw open a door and then turned on the light.

It was a lab. There was a huge tube full of green liquid and a-

"That's a body," Peter said, to himself. The words echoed. "That's a - that's a corpse."

Horrible? Bad. Very bad. He flicked the light back off and kept running. He was suddenly very glad he had run away from the sounds of human voices.

His brain tried to draw a mental connection between the green tube and where he woke up. He pushed that down and ran faster. His survival instincts were still in charge and they were screaming at him to leave. He was even more frantic now. He needed a door outside. He flung open a door, registered that it was full of clothes, and shut it.

Then he remembered, 'Hey, I'm absolutely naked,' and opened it back up.

It was full of clothes that were not suitable to wear in a lab. That made sense. Peter stared at a collection of jackets, skirts, and boxes of sandals. Right. People who worked here would have changed into long sleeves and full length pants when they got to work.

'It must be hot outside now.'

It was not ideal. He grabbed a bright green zip-up jacket that smelt kinda dusty, a black pair of dress pants, and frantically shoved his feet into a few pairs of slip-on sandals until he found one that kinda fit. "Why don't women have bigger feet?" Peter wailed, heels hanging off the end. He pulled the jacket on as he ran and hopped his way into the pants. "Ned is going to give me so much shit," he panted. The thought made him feel better. The closest door led to a shitty changing room, with metal lockers.

'Oh. Normal clothes that don't need to hang up would be in here.'

He froze, weighing how desperately he wanted to get out against how bad of a fit his current outfit was.

His Spidey sense didn't say the building was about to fall down this instant, so he decided to look for something better.

He started pulling on lockers frantically. Even if it wasn't immediate, he was in danger here. His spider sense was screaming it. That normally meant that he should run or duck or hide. Right now, he just knew it meant that he needed to get out of here and not get tracked back. That meant blending in. He needed to look normal, and a teenage boy in too-small sandals, dress pants, and a hi-vis jacket was not normal or inconspicuous.

He found one that hadn’t been properly locked and yanked it open. “Thank god,” Peter breathed, looking at men’s clothes. There was a slightly messy pile of T-shirts and rolled up socks at the bottom, a brown zip-up jacket, and two pairs of sweatpants. The holy grail was a pair of slightly worn white sneakers that looked his size. A quick check of the tag showed they were a half-size smaller than he’d buy.

‘Thor is looking out for me,’ Peter decided. ‘This is actual godly intervention.’

He changed right there, sending up a silent apology to the mad scientist whose wardrobe he was raiding. White shoes, black sweatpants, brown zip-up hoodie (oh no, he was mixing warm and cool neutrals) and a plain white t-shirt looked a lot more natural on a teenager than what he’d grabbed at first. The outfit change took seconds. He stuffed the old outfit in the locker to hide it and impulsively decided that he might as well grab the bag that was hanging from the back. He was pretty sure the compound was being raided or something, so the guy was probably going to be too busy in jail to notice his missing stuff.

The next door led outside. He could smell fresh air. He nearly wept.

First that was because freedom was close. When he shoved at the door, the temptation to cry was because it was a heavy metal door and didn't budge.

Peter reeled back and looked around for a way to unlock it. The only thing he saw was a box with a card reader. You needed an ID badge to get in and out, then.

Or super strength. This wasn't going to be subtle. Peter busted the door down with only a smidge of regret and burst into what turned out to be cool night air. It smelled like the ocean and safety.

Alarms blared.

"Okay," Peter said, "That sounds bad."

He picked a random direction and bolted. He wasn't too far gone to notice the first street sign and numbered address on the building he passed. He'd need to know where he'd just escaped from later. Mr. Stark would know what to do about a creepy laboratory with bodies in tubes-

A body! Not bodies, just one human corpse! He had been in a tube, yes, but. But.

Peter pushed down the impulse to scream.

That was great, because it wasn't actually that late out. He passed a jogger with a reflective wristband and hi-vis jacket. She gave him a weird look in passing.

'Because I look crazy sprinting by myself,' Peter processed. He needed to- did he need to put distance between him and the building or to blend in better?

No one was actively following him.

Peter swallowed hard. He forced himself to slow down to a brisk walk. He tried to look bored. He wished he had a phone to mess with. Oh. He unzipped the bag to check if there was one inside. There wasn’t, but there was a wallet.

He grimaced. Whoops. He’d look in that later. Maybe he could mail it back to the guy, if there was an ID in it.

There wouldn't be like, cameras everywhere, right? If not, the most important thing was to not be memorable. He was pretty sure. That sounded like something the Black Widow would say.

He ruffled his hair and realized it was drying in spikes. Peter grimaced at the feeling of whatever that stuff had been, drying. He wanted to shower immediately.

He settled for not touching it. He walked and walked and realized that he didn't recognize anything. He wasn't in NYC.

Well. Duh. He stared out at an unfamiliar city after sunset, dumbfounded. The last thing he remembered was being in outer space. He should just feel lucky to wake up on Earth at all.

Okay. What was first? He sucked in deep breaths, struggling for calm. He needed to find out where he was. That was first, right? Then he needed to contact someone. Aunt May or Mr. Stark or- he had Happy's phone number memorized. Okay. Great. His heart rate started to slow a little. He knew lots of adults that could get him.

It felt a little unreal to walk down the sidewalk past chattering civilians. Peter stared at people, not entirely sure why but feeling a little creeped out.

'They're not scared or stressed. Everybody's acting like it's a normal day.'

It took a while for the realization to hit.

'The invasion must be totally over. Things have gone back to normal.'

That should have been a relief. Instead, he felt a creeping tendril of fear. What had happened to him? How long had it been?

Okay. That question gave him a task. He needed to find the date. That was achievable.

He started walking again with that mission in mind. Despite how bizarre his situation was, having a goal made him feel more stable. Sure, he didn’t know what had happened, but he knew how to gather information to make a plan. That plan was probably going to be ‘borrow a phone and call someone, or use a public computer to email someone.’ He just needed a little more information to make that happen.

A thought occurred. Peter bit his lip and stole looks at the other people walking around. No, it couldn’t be. He hadn’t been asleep for a really long time, no way. People looked about the same. If anything, the fashion here was a little conservative and outdated. He eyed one young woman and was pretty sure Aunt May owned that exact top in another color.

To be fair, he was from New York City. Fashion started there and spread elsewhere, right?

It was fine. Everything was fine! He walked a little faster and wished he'd ended up somewhere that he knew. It would have been easier to get his bearings. He saw the name “Metropolis” on enough signboards to figure out that was the name of the area.

‘That is weird,’ he thought, anxiety prodding at his nerves. He fiddled with the zipper on his jacket to have something to do with his hands. ‘I’ve never heard that city name before. And this is definitely a city. People have American accents here. Shouldn’t I know this city?’

Well. Maybe it was a suburb or something. Like, a subname, like how the boroughs were all part of NYC. He could be in like, California, or something and just not know the area well enough to recognize it.

Peter finally found an electronic billboard with the date on it. Oh, shit. He stood open-mouthed for a long moment, watching the pixels appear and disappear in a ripple in between ads for a divorce lawyer and a jeweler.

It hadn't been long. It had been the opposite of a long time since the fight with Thanos. Or something?

Peter knew he was reeling. He shoved his hands in his pockets and started running on the sidewalk just so that there was a reason for his breathing to be so heavy. Shoot. Shoot. His shoes were starting to pinch and his whole body felt itchy with panic.

The flashing billboard had displayed the date in the bottom left corner. According to that, he was 5 years in the past.

'How and why?'

That complicated things. Peter tried to make a mental map of what things were like five years ago.

He couldn't go home. Not yet. He could – oh. Oh, Uncle Ben hadn't been shot yet. He reeled. He could- and Mr. Stark, this was around the time that Mr. Stark was kidnapped, wasn't it? He didn't remember exactly but maybe he could help.

It was too much for him to process right now. He wanted to go home and hide.

'I can't go home.'

The thought hit him hard. His heart started to race.

If he went home- they'd think he was a stranger! Would Aunt May and Uncle Ben even recognize him this much older?

'I think they'd want to help me. But they can't afford to feed me. I can't put that on them.'

Guilt crawled into his throat with claws. Peter felt his eyes watering. He was so selfish. He had a chance to help people and save lives and he was busy feeling sorry for himself because he couldn't go home? What kind of hero was he?

"This is good," he choked out. He scrubbed at his face. "I- I can fix so many things."

So why did it feel so terrible?

It was a bad night. It really was. He should have- he was a literal superhero. He should have compartmentalized and strategized and been practical, like his inner Colonel Rhodes advised.

Instead Peter wandered. He just walked the streets of this city as night fell and didn't even figure out where he was. The climate seemed like New York City, for what that was worth, so maybe he wasn't too far off from the home he could never go back to.

It took a really long time for him to realize that he was hungry. Like, he was really hungry.

That stopped Peter in his tracks. Despair crawled up his throat and choked him with tears. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to solve these problems. Act like an adult, he guessed. Adults got jobs. He needed to get a job.

'I want to go home.'

Was that just childish? Maybe it was a good idea. If he was in New York City, at least he'd know his way around. That could only help.

Well. All roads lead to Rome, don't they? Peter started looking for train tracks. If he found a subway entrance it would be clearly labeled, but he didn't have any money for tickets. So he needed the actual railroad, for moving stuff.

'It's not legal but it's not like, a real crime,' Peter told himself, and decided to go for it.

Peter sent up a silent apology to the transportation system and hopped on top of the next freight train that came by. It took him through this weird city and then out into the country for a short spurt before churning into a different city.

Not just any city. Peter stared at the night skyline. The bleariness from exhaustion was playing tricks on him, wasn't it? Because this looked like New York City.

#peter parker #peter parker in gotham #eventually #red reassembly #marvel dc crossover #first important DC character to come in is NOT a bat

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