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#but yeah holy sh*t
theinfinitedivides · 10 months
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how the F*CK is Ranveer so good at dancing and why does he need to keep reminding me like i forget every f*cking time
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nullcanary · 1 year
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"Now all my other gods are dead. Hallelujah, to the apocalypse in my head!"
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#just finished my first playthrough#what a wild journey this has been#this game has given so much enrichment to my life#this game pulled me out of the deepest depression ive ever been in#and then momentarily put me back in one after the malenia fight because reptile brain was like youve been running from a tiger for 4 hours#my stress response was so on edge for a week yall#but thats a different story lets not digress#I'm making art again... i literally thought i lost that spark#im WRITING again?!?? a FEW things too?!? yall whats in this elden juice?!#i finally have an oc of my own to cherish#ive connected with talented inspiring and clever creators of various forms of fanworks#truly the game just turned a light on inside me again that said 'youre allowed to feel again'#it just happened to be the correct combination of so many nuances that mattered to me already and them dialed them up to 10#the astel fight was my absolute favorite#when i watched the trailer it was what captured my eye the most#when going through armor sets i saw the Preceptor's set and thought 'holy sh!t thats my aesthetic'#and now i have an irl version of it that i made with my own hands#ive never had the opportunity to be obsessed with a single character before and thats so weird to only realise after succumbing to varrérot#truly either reigniting interest in old joys or discovering completely new experiences#oh yeah and lastly im so flippin into IAMX now hes almost all ive listened to since the year began and thats also because of varrérot#tag rant over#elden ring#i have very normal feelings about frenzied flame#lord of frenzied flame ending ie third impact lmao#iamx stalker lyrics in header
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galaxies-unknown · 1 year
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When do you realize you're in love?
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when you climb on the rooftops together
When you're climbing the ladder together that leads to the roof access, the icy wind on your face almost painful. When they're laughing in the cold of winter and you can't hold back your smile in response, even when your lips get chapped and hurt. How you're never really one to be a daredevil, but you're running through the city together, and you let yourself be reckless. You let yourself taste danger, you want to reach higher, you want the intensity and passion they offer. When you see how it all naturally comes to them, and you want to be part of that.
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carolmunson · 1 month
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18+ stoned!reader x stoned!eddie, some semi smut found this in my drafts from a couple days ago that i wrote when i was...also stoned. utter nonesense, most of it.
“Shh—hehe-shh, no, no, we have to be — hahaha — sh, sh, quiet,” he whisper yells, stumbling over himself while he nearly knocks a lamp off of a side table in Steve Harrington’s living room. The rest of the gang filled the guest bedrooms, leaving you both on the pull out couch.
His sweaty hand clasps yours as you finally make it to the kitchen, squinting in the light against the white tiles.
“Ugh, put the dimmer on,” you whine into another peal of ‘quiet’ giggles.
“Okay, okay,” he nods, leaning against the wall while he twists the light switch knob, the lights going to a low yellow.
“That’s better — shit,” he huffs, grinning.
“What?” you grin back,
“M’stoned as shit, babe,” he laughs, rubbing his swollen red eyes.
“Me—haha, me too,” you laugh back. You both make your way to the abandoned s’mores ingredients on the counter, the reason for the adventure to the kitchen.
“I don’t really get marshmallows,” he says, popping one into his mouth, “Li’ I get them, buh I don’ really get them.”
“True, true,” you nod, breaking a graham cracker in half, staring at the crumbs on the marble, “They’re like — oh my god — holy shit, they’re a fake food.”
“Babe, fuck — you’re so right,” he nods, “Like what’re they even made of?”
“Like…plastic, babe. I think they’re plastic,” you nod back, eyes as wide as they can go — and it’s not wide at all, “Like from space. They’re space plastic.”
“They’re totally space plastic,” he agrees, putting another one in his mouth, “Tasthy, shug-ry, spacthe, plasdic.”
“M’so thirsty,” you complain, turning the sink on with little grace, leaning forward to drink from the faucet.
“Aw, shit, me too — move,” Eddie grumbles, holding his hair back and hip bumping you out of the way.
“Hey!” you whine, hip bumping him back, knocking your forehead against his to get back to the water.
“You hey!” he laughs back, face half reproachful and half mischievous, “I’ll count to five and then hahaha, then it’s my turn.”
You drink quick while he counts down, taking turns in intervals of five until you both think you’ve been drinking water for hours.
“3, 4…”
“Okay enough, you’re waterboarding me,” you gasp after a gulp, turning the sink off.
“You don’t even know what that means.”
“No Ed, you don’t even know what that means.”
“No you,” he tuts, leaning in for a kiss.
“No you,” you tut back, letting him kiss you softly. Unsurprisingly, you both let out simultaneous groans, knowing you’re both on shaky ground if you keep at it. It takes little effort for him to convince you to sit up on the island counter so his hips can line up against yours, ringed and tattooed hands gripping your thighs without thought or care behind it, just need. Just bare need from the roots. He pushes forward, the hard on tenting his boxers pressing up flat against you. Two more breathy groans coming from between your kisses while he rocks against your panties.
“I don’t have a condom with me,” he whispers against your lips.
“Sss…hmmm, it’s okay,” you mumble out, swollen eyes now shut while your body tingles through with pleasure, “S’feelin’reallygood babe.”
“You all extra sensitive?” he asks, the giggles gone, just eyes that want you — brain focused now on chasing the pleasure in his groin.
“Yeah,” you whimper, his chest pressing up against yours when he brings his mouth to your neck. To your spot. The whine you let out is a little too loud and you both know it — enough that he covers your mouth while he keeps going, hips still grinding in a steady rhythm against you. He tugs you down back to the floor by your hips, turning you around without a second thought, oversized t-shirt rucked up to your waist.
“You want me?” he asks, pulling your panties to the side. You nod hurriedly.
“Please,” you whisper, hips wiggling — which makes him laugh, which makes you laugh, and then you look at the marshmallows on the counter and it’s space plastic all over again. Giggles and kisses while he gets ready to ease into you and put you both to bed exhausted.
“I hope the aliens don’t come,” you murmur between sloppy pecks, “For the space plastic.”
The light in the kitchen gets bright, bright, bright, “We’re getting abducted babe.”
“What’re you talking about?” Steve’s annoyed voice echos from the other end of the room, “You guys are being so loud.”
You and Eddie separate like embarrassed high schoolers who got caught kissing behind the bleachers. Like dad walked in on something he shouldn’t have.
“Sorry, Harrington,” Eddie smirks, “We were just—”
“Getting water!” you interrupt.
“Yeah I see that,” Steve huffs, crossing his arms, “It’s all over the floor.”
He’s not wrong, it is, the two of you looking at the tile like kids who are definitely in trouble.
“We’ll clean it up Steve, sorry,” Eddie assures, much more apologetic now.
“Just — go to bed guys,” he sighs, “Or I’m making you sleep in separate rooms next time.”
When he leaves you both toss each other a look, mocking Steve’s exasperated face with another silent outbreak of breathy giggles. After wiping up the water, you put away the snacks together and click the light off, settling back down in the pull out couch under the covers. The high now holding you down in a cozy grip, making your eyes lull and your breaths slow.
“M’sleepy,” you whisper under the crisp sheets.
“Me too,” he nods, intertwining his limbs with yours like he does every night. Curly hair creeping onto your face while he settles his head in the crook of your neck, “But babe?”
“Yeah?” you ask into the quiet of the room, eyes closed, sleep pulling you further and further away.
“M’gonna rail you when we get home tomorrow,” he mutters, half asleep.
“M’kay,” you nod, “Thass—that sounds good. I like that. I’ll get us a ticket.”
“Hm?”
“For the rail…for the railroad.”
“I’ve been workin’ on the rail road,” he sings quietly.
“All the live long day…” you both harmonize, more giggles, sleepy giggles.
“I’ve been workin’ on the rail road, just to pass the time away…”
“Guys,” Steve’s sharp whisper calls from the stairs, “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight Steve,” you mumble in unison, singing the song in quiet whispers — falling asleep before you even make it to the end.
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kinopio-writes · 3 months
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Hello! Could you write platonic Dad!Adam headcanons? Thank you,
A/N: Lol. Don’t expect too much out of this guy because…it’s Adam. Heavily focused on him rather than the reader, sorry. Also, I might have gone a little overboard with this one because, uh, this was supposed to be only headcanons as you said, and the not-requested ‘drabble’ ended up being a few scenarios with a one-on-one convo with Adam and Sera at the end. 3rd POV and the reader is referred to as they/it, btw. Enjoy.
Holy sh!t I reread your request again and I don’t know if you meant that the reader is supposed to be the child or fuuuuuuuu—tell me if that’s not what you wanted, I had fun writing this nonetheless.
Words: 727 (not including the bullet points)
Warnings: Very vulgar language because I kind of adapt to certain types of writing depending on the characters, Sex is mentioned, Adam being Adam
———
How Adam would be as a Father (Reader is the child)
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• first things first, the only way I can see Adam become a dad was because he accidentally impregnated a chick when she fucking swore that, oh, no, Adam, I’m on birth control. Oh, don’t worry, Adam, you don’t have to finish in my mouth. Oh, no need, Adam, I’ve got it covered. Oh, it’s okay, Adam—yes, this is Adam mocking her
• so imagine his surprise when he found a fucking child at his doorstep crying like a little bitch (it’s a child, dude)
• “What the fuck?” was his first reaction
• he’d find a note that said something-something about oh who gives a fuck about her and her sob story about having to leave the child in his care?
• what mattered was—“THAT FUCKING BITCH LIED TO ME!”
• after that whole ordeal, he would sit in his gigantic ass living room, slumping on his couch with arms crossed and grumbling complaints as if he was the child
• now, don’t tell me this guy knows anything about being a father
• because he doesn’t
• the first few weeks he would really just let someone else take care of the kid
• Lute would be the caretaker most of the time since she’s around Adam a lot
• the problem was that she’s an exterminator
• she wasn’t made for this (I headcanon that exterminators are entirely different beings that are created and are not exactly classified as angels. Explains why all the exterminators are women)
• her purpose was to kill sinners and she certainly didn’t have babysitting on her list of skills
• so eventually, the responsibilities would fall back on Adam
• of course, he had attempted to get in contact with the woman
• he came back with nothing
• wait, nothing? Holy shit, he left the baby—
• and, if you’re wondering, I don’t think Heaven has adoption centers or whatnot because everyone is responsible when they’re thinking of having a child *ahem ahem*
• but, hey, how hard would looking after a child would be?
• probably accidentally dropped the kid once before
• will get mad that he can’t do his guitar solos because they would start to cry even louder
• has probably nearly suffocated it by leaving a pillow in their crib (edited in because this just came to me)
• doesn’t know how to hold it properly
• eventually got it right by observing some of Heaven’s residents
• thinks he’s the best dad because of it
• speaking of residents, they most likely don’t know that the first man has a child
• dude, you really think he’d be caught dead with a kid?
• nuh-uh
• sometimes forgets he has a kid
• have left it in his—I headcanon—condominium completely unattended sometimes
• so, uh, yeah…not looking good for Adam here
let’s get on with the scenarios, shall we?
———
Adam covered his ears with his silk pillows, trying to muffle the sounds of that brat’s whining.
“Ugh! Shut up, Shut up!” Of course, it didn’t shut up.
He banged his head on the pillow repeatedly, swearing he was going to fucking throw this fucking child off the fuCKING BALCONY IF IT DOESN’T SHUT UP—
He had enough and went over to the crib in the corner of his bedroom, snarling. “Y’know, since your mommy was such a quiet whore you’d expect the brat to act the same. She should’ve been honored that she even got my dick. Mine. And this is how she fucking repays me?” The child in question looked up at their father, their cries coming to an eventual stop as he rambled on and on. “Finally.”
The moment he left their sight, however, they started to cry once more.
“OH MY GOD—”
———
Adam arrived home tired as shit balls.
“Not fucking now, bitch,” he dismissed when they reached for him from their place in the crib as he flopped himself on his king-sized bed. At least it wasn’t crying. Rather, it was babbling and flailing its hands and feet. While it was a nice change, it was still annoying to listen to.
Eventually, he decided to shut it up and lazily dragged himself over to the crib, picking it up in his hands and setting it near his shoulder.
“Ugh, there there. Or whatever.” He idly patted the child’s back, plopping back on his bed.
Surprisingly, the kid soon fell asleep without further complaints, nuzzling into their father’s comfortable robe.
Ugh, rude. It fell asleep before he could bitch about his day as he usually did. Instead, he grumbled his own day to himself, his eyelids growing heavy as time passed by.
Adam later dozed off with the baby in his arms, snoring loudly as his wings wrapped around him and the child in his seldom peaceful slumber.
———
The living room was dark. Heaven’s natural light poured through his open windows and the TV played a movie that was most definitely not suited for young audiences. At least it wasn’t anything sexual. Heaven forbid.
In the midst of the oddly serene environment that is Adam’s residence, holy light flashed from beside his couch and the tall figure of Sera appeared. Adam instantly turned the TV off.
“Adam, pardon my intrusion. You still haven’t submitted your forms and they were due yesterday—” Sera interrupted herself when her eyes landed on the baby next to the first man.
“Sera, what gives? Can’t you see I’m busy? Where’s your sense of privacy? Jeez.”
“Adam, is that a child?” she asked rather accusatorily.
“Ugh, yeah, so what?”
“I didn’t think you would—where’s your wife?” She brushed her hair back behind her shoulder, her brows furrowed. “Um, I figured that after Lilith and Eve—”
“Pshh, you’d think this guy would settle down for anyone? Puh-lease. Imagine a world where you can’t fuck the original dick. Worse than any nightmare you could ever dream of.” Adam averted his gaze as his shoulders tensed up.
“So you care for this child alone? By yourself?” Sera looked more worried than ever, which Adam instantly latched on to.
“Are you doubting me? I started humankind—I know what I’m doing.” He settled his arms on the headrest, legs raising to rest on the coffee table as he gave a lazy shrug.
“How long have you kept this child?”
“What’s with all the questions? Uh, I dunno, more than two months, I guess?”
“What is its name?”
“Oh, uh…” Shit. He didn’t really think about that. He only kept calling it ‘kid’ or ‘brat’. “Adam Jr!” he blurted out the first thing that went through his mind. “Yeah, that’s right, everyone would immediately know that this kid is from me, Adam.”
Sera only narrowed her eyes. “Very well. I’m surprised you managed to keep this hidden from me. The child—”
“Adam Jr.”
“…Adam Jr. seems to be doing fine in your hands. But raising a child is no easy feat, Adam.” She took a deep breath in and closed her eyes momentarily. “We will have our discussion regarding your work tomorrow. Have a good night.”
As the seraphim was engulfed with holy light once more, vanishing as quickly as she came, Adam was left to think if the hassle was really worth this brat.
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jungkookstatts · 6 months
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Big fan of your work! Since requests are open I was wondering if you may do a jk smut “holy sh*t i think you got ME pregnant” riding and complete  eagerness for jk 🫣
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[Summary]: Jungkook is a little too obsessed with the idea of making you his. About making you both his wife and the mother of his kids.
[Theme]: Non-Idol AU (or Idol AU, however, you see it), Established Relationship AU, Pre-Fiances(?) AU
[Rating]: 18+ literally just sex, oral (m receiving), doggy, spitting, choking, ass slapping, hair grabbing, creampie, cockwarming, impreg kink, dom jk, sub reader, literally just vile I'm sorry
[Word Count]: 2,016
[A/N]: This literally took me almost 4 months, I apologize deeply. I also wrote it and then reread your ask and realized I didn't really follow it too much ㅠㅠ I am sorry I hope you still like it. My mind just went "woo-woo sex!!"
Your boyfriend is a big brat. Sometimes, even a bigger brat than you.
This all started because he was being a big cunt driving you home from your date. He took you out to a fancy restaurant for your 3-year anniversary, but for some reason, he was being a complete prick all the way home. Something about how you looked at the waiter a certain way and he didn’t like it.
So now here you are, your silk dress thrown somewhere on his bedroom floor, and your panties ripped down the middle. He’s naked and rock-hard in front of you, looking down at you on display on his sheets.
“You think it’s funny, huh?” your boyfriend smirks, his tongue coming out to lick at his lip piercing.
“I mean, yeah, a little,” you laugh. He’s so pent up, so overworked over nothing. You literally want to marry this man — he has nothing to worry about. It’s funny, but you’re also extremely turned on. Jungkook mad and jealous, is a huge, dangerous combination you can’t help but bend at the knees over in the bedroom.
His eyebrows knit together angrily as he pushes your legs up, his cold fingers sliding up your folds.
“A-ah,” you gasp, wiping the laugh off your face. His long fingers play with you, sliding and circling your juices between your folds.
“Not so funny now, is it?” he chuckles. He inserts a finger into you, and you grab onto his wrist in a useless attempt to calm him down for a moment. But he takes your wrist on his own, pinning it against the bedsheets next to your head. “Am I a joke, hm?” he whispers against your neck. “You think it’s funny to look at other men when I take you out?”
“N-No, Kook,” you swear. “I only look at you.”
“Damn right you do,” he bites your neck harshly, causing you to arch your back into his chest. You know for a fact you’re going to be purple and blue tomorrow. “You’ve got a smart mouth, Y/n,” he smiles against your ear. “Let me fix it for you.”
“K-Kook,” you whine, knowing where this is going.
“Get up,” he demands. You feel your pussy tremble at the look in his eyes. He’s going to torture the shit out of you, and you couldn’t be more excited and scared at the same time.
Your boyfriend sits down at the edge of his bed, spreading his legs and pointing to the space on the ground in between them for you. You fall onto your knees, sliding your hands up his thighs until they’re inches from his swollen cock. He’s so hard — it almost looks painful. But he looks down at you with hooded eyes, smiling devilishly at the events to come.
“Suck it,” he demands. And you do.
With your small hands wrapped around his cock, you give him a test pump before licking a long stripe from base to tip. The sensation has his head falling back, and you feel yourself dripping onto the floor at the sight of his Adam's apple bobbing from pleasure. You put him into your mouth, your tongue flattening against his frenulum so deliciously, that he grabs your hair in his fist and pushes you down further. The action causes you to gag, not ready for the sudden change in pace. But you accept it graciously, adjusting to his length in your mouth as you move with the pace his hand on your hair sets for you.
It’s always hard to adjust to him. You hate to admit it, but your big-brat boyfriend has a big-brat cock. You don’t think in the three years you’ve dated him you’ve been able to call yourself “used” to his size. But he likes it rough. He warned you when you said you didn’t like rough sex all those years ago that he’d change your mind. And boy, has he. You’re an absolute slut for this man, and he gets a tiny ego boost every time you submit yourself to him like this.
“That’s it, baby,” he coaxes you.
You bob your head onto him, looking up at him with your full mouth, eyes watery and big. He almost cums at the sight, pushing you off for a moment to compose himself.
You come off with a pop, a messy line of spit connecting your mouth to his dick.
He grabs your jaw with his palm, his thumb jutting into your mouth. You take his thumb in your hand, enclosing it around your lips and sucking on it just as you sucked his dick.
“Open,” he demands again. You do, opening your mouth and pushing your tongue out. Your boyfriend leans forward, taking your chin in his fingertips, and spits into your mouth. You smile, giggling with a mouth full of his spit when he slightly sits back, looking at all of you. He was about to say something, but you lean into him, taking his dick into your mouth again and sucking him harder and faster.
“A-ah-Y/n,” he moans quietly, although his grip on your hair returns harshly. “Ffuckkk—hah.”
He nearly laughs at the pleasure; you’re so perfect for him it’s funny. You know every single one of his pleasures, and he knows you do when you begin to play with the skin between his balls and cock as you fuck him with your mouth. The sensation has him pulling you off his cock again for good, himself on the edge of release.
“Get on the bed,” he pants.
“How?” you ask, resting your hands on his thighs. He leans forward again, but this time his hand comes around your neck, choking you a little more harshly than you expected. Your eyes search for him, completely lust-filled and intense.
“How I like you best,” he whispers against your lips. You lean in to kiss him, but he pulls away, teasing you in the most evil way possible.
You pout, but get up on your feet and lay down front-first against the sheets. You feel him come up behind you, touching the back of your thighs softly, gliding his hands up your skin until they meet the round of your ass. You listen to him moan softly as he spreads them apart, taking a good look at your swollen, dripping cunt.
“God, you’re so wet,” he nearly whines. “You gonna let me knock you up, sweetheart?”
“Mmhm,” you whine. The anticipation of his cock inside of you is getting too intense, and you wiggle your ass at him in an attempt to get him to get a move on. But he only slaps your ass hard, surely leaving a handprint. You gasp sharply, toes curling at the surprise.
“Fuck, I want to put a baby in you so bad,” he slaps your ass again. “Wanna show everyone how swollen I’ve made you. That you’re carrying my baby because you’re my girl.”
“J-Jungkook,” you gasp as he lands a third harsh slap on your ass. You almost feel like you might cum — he’s always hinted at wanting kids with you, but hasn’t really brought it to the bedroom. It’s hot, to say the very least. That, and the combination of his big hand slapping your ass.
“No one would question you’re mine,” he grabs your hips, pulling them up into the air where he situates the tip of his dick against your cunt. “You’d be too busy having my babies to give anyone else a glance other than me.”
You open your mouth to say something, but he’s already pushing inside of you, stretching you so well like how he always does. You fold your arms in the space above your head, arching your back into him as he slowly bottoms out. This position always allows his cock to kiss your cervix so delicately, you squirm knowing he’s going to pump you so good once he’s finished.
“Fuck,” he spits, panting at the sheer feeling of your walls around him. “Y-You good?”
You just moan against his pillows, nodding your head as you push your hips back, slipping further into him than you were before. Jungkook grabs your hips tightly, pressing his fingertips harshly into your skin as he pulls out and slams back in with force. You moan loudly into the fabric, but Jungkook pays you no mind, pushing your head further into the sheets as he fucks you like a demon.
His hips slap against yours, and you find yourself coming undone within minutes of his torture on you. The man behind you only laughs, his thrusts becoming harder, trying to push past the absolute grip you have on his cock from your orgasm.
“God, you’re so tight,” he groans, head lulling back in disbelief. “You’re all mine,” he grabs your ass harshly before landing another slap onto it. “Say it, Y/n. Say you’re mine. Say you belong to me.”
“Koo,” you tremble, completely overstimulated from your orgasm.
“Dammit,” he grips your hair in his fist, forcing you to look up. His body looms over yours, his breath tickling your ear as he demands again, “Say it.”
“I’m yours, Koo,” you whine. “I’m all yours; only yours.”
He grunts in your ear at your words, dick slightly twitching inside of you. The way you say his name sounds so sweet. He never wants to hear his name from another pair of lips. It only sounds right when it’s coming from you. The thought of you being his forever, of the diamond ring sitting in the top drawer of his closet wardrobe, looms over him. God, he can’t wait. He’s so eager and so very impatient. He wants you, he wants you as his — as his wife and the mother of his children — so badly, he can almost taste it. He wants to be your husband already.
“Fuck, dammit,” he curses, head resting against the back of your shoulder. He still fucks into you, hips unrelenting and only quickening with the orgasm he denied of himself just a while ago while you were sucking him off looming over his head. “M’ gonna cum.”
“Cum for me, baby,” you permit him. Your voice sounds like honey in his ears, and you find yourself cumming for a second time when his thick, hot ropes spill into you. It’s so much — his sweet voice filling your ear as pleasure takes over his body, the way his cum pumps into you filling you with so much of him you feel so full and used.
“A-ah, Y/n,” he says softly, kissing your shoulder with wet, soft kisses. “Fuck, you’re so good to me.”
“I love you,” you respond as your knees give out on you. He simply falls on top of you, letting you lie down with his cock buried deep inside of you. He plugs you up, even though he’s softening slowly by the minute.
“I love you, too,” he smiles.
“I think you might have gotten me pregnant,” you slightly turn your head toward him. Your boyfriend comes up to you, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“I guess we’ll find out,” he smiles gently.
“You’re fine with that?” you ask him, a little surprised.
“Yeah,” he hides his face in the crook of your neck. “I want like…an entire army of children with you, so I’m completely fine with that idea.”
“I’m not having more than two kids,” you scoff.
He simply looks at you with his bunny eyes, feeling embarrassed by his eagerness.
“Maybe three, but that is pushing it,” you change your mind. Fuck, this man has you wrapped around his finger.
“Regardless, I’m gonna make you mine,” he says surely, turning you on his back.
“I am yours,” you confirm as you push the hair out of his face.
“Officially,” he corrects you.
You don’t even have to ask what he means by that when he stares at your ring finger gently before kissing you into the pillows, the hand on your waist slowly tracing circles on your lower stomach with his thumb.
----
[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]
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ryotono · 1 year
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Hashiras/Pillars and [Y/N] and quotes and mucho rizz hihi (sorry)
Feat. Kamaboko squad!
Enjoy!
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When Tanjiro attacks sanemi:
[Y/N]: GET HIM BOY, F*CKING KICK HIS ASS AYOOO
Giyuu: so it's you the bad influence
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
In the Battle against Upper moon one:
[Y/N] looking at Kokushibo: so, he is your like great-great-grandfather?
Muichiro: yes
[Y/N]: oh...
[Y/N]: is he single?
Muichiro: wtf
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Tanjiro: what's your breathing style? you're a hashira, so must be something really cool!
[Y/N]: I can tell you only if you promise it's a secret between us
Tanjiro: oh ofc!
[Y/N] get closer: it's rizz
Tanjiro: what
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Zenitsu: what do you mean "Rizz" that's not even a breathing style-
[Y/N] pointing to the other pillars: do you see all that people?
Zenitsu: yes?
[Y/N]: all of them are my bitches, except for muichiro, muichiro is my baby
[Y/N]: so don't do "tHaT's NoT eVeN a BrEaThInG sTyLE" to me boy, because my rizz is upper than you ever gonna be, understood?
Zenitsu, crying: y-yes sir
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Hashira meeting:
Giyuu: y'all joking, [Y/N] doesn't have a crush in me
Gyomei: yes they do
Uzui: sadly they do
Sanemi: they fucking do you blind ass f*cker ("no offense gyomei" "it's okay")
Mitsuri: they do!!! ^^
Muichiro: that cloud looks like a duck, ha
Shinobu: they do tomioka san
Rengoku: NO JOKES, THEY DO PARTNER!
Obanai: they do, and it's disgusting
[Y/N]: yes I do, very much actually
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[Y/N]: okay but what about your great-great-uncle?
Muichiro: leave me alone
[Y/N]: answer the question muichiro, ANSWER
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Inosuke: HEY YOU, THE HASHIRA
[Y/N]: hm, me?
Inosuke: YES, FIGHT ME!
[Y/N]: HOLY SH*T PEPPA PIG??
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[Y/N]: I don't understand, how could i have food poisoning?
Shinobu: did you eat something strange?
[Y/N]: no! I just made me some food
Shinobu: that explains a lot
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[Y/N]: so you telling that we have to beat Michael Jackson?
Ubuyashiki: yes- wait, who-
[Y/N]: what if "HEE HEE" us? I'm scared, rengoku hold me
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[Y/N]: I’ve only had Kamaboko Squad for a day and a half
[Y/N]: but if anything happened to them I’d kill everyone in this room and then myself.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Sanemi: WHAT DID YOU SAY?
[Y/N]: i said that if you keep screaming and threatening your beautiful little brother, I'm gonna get your sword and f*cking shove in your ass, got it :)?
Sanemi: alright
let's try again
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Sanemi: WHAT DID YOU SAY?
[Y/N]: I hate you, but at the same time I want to kiss you so bad, and give you all the love and support you deserve babe
Sanemi: ???
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[Y/N] in a mission with Mitsuri and Obanai:
Obanai, obviously furious: can't you just go away? There's enough pillars in this mission
[Y/N]: yeah I can go, but I don't want to miss your failure to confess to Mitsuri, start dating, eventually getting married and have kids, living happy, but because your such a weakass, none of this is going to happen
Obanai: ... You don't need to say that y'know
[Y/N]: oh yes I need
just kidding I love obanai
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Gyomei: hello there
[Y/N]: boobs
Gyomei: sorry?
[Y/N] sweating: i-i mean titties- NO I MEAN BIG MEN BOOBS F*CK I MEAN HI HELLO HOW ARE YOU??
Gyomei:
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
X: Master Ubuyashiki, we need to stop the Hashira [Y/N]
Ubuyashiki: why is that
X: They are adopting all the kids here, started with that group with the demon sister, then the younger brothers of the Wind and Flame Pillar and the girls from Butterfly State, even the Mist Pillar are gone
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Akaza: guess it's your end now rengoku
[Y/N]: THE FUCK IT'S NOT YOUR KICKED BASKETBALL SON OF A BI-
TANJIRO: WHERE'D YOU EVEN COME FROM?
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Extra!
Akaza: and suddenly appears this crackhead kinda of demon slayer, and starts barking at me
Kokushibo: like a dog?
Akaza: yes
Demon [Y/N]: heh, I like them
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TWO [Y/N]'S????? AND CRACKHEAS??? PROTECT YOUR CHILDREN PEOPLE
That's all for today! Thank you all for reading and interacting with my other posts ;) Love y'all!!!!
(English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any misspelling or errors)
1K notes · View notes
royalarchivist · 11 months
Text
Fit: Thank you, is there any candidate that would like to respond to Cellbit?
Forever: [Presses the button]
Fit: Forever, you have the floor.
Forever: So Cellbit... You are beautiful!
Roier: HOLY SH*T, I AGREE, I AGREE! I AGREE!!!
Cellbit: Hey, hey, no no. [Runs over to Roier] My heart is yours!
Roier: Oh... My– my heart is yours as well!
Forever: I– I'm not saying this kind of beautiful, I am just saying that he's a- a great candidate!
Roier: No no no, I agree, Cellbit is beautiful! Just- just that!
Forever: Yeah yeah yeah!
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ktsumu · 5 months
Note
Idk what that other ask was asking for specifically but I would love you to share some SunaRin thoughts?
yes of course :3 here are some suna thoughts i’ve had as of late
sfw:
he documents a lot of your relationship — there’s an album in his phone for just you, and one for the both of you. one for just you because sometimes that’s all he wants to look at, one for the both of you because sometimes he can’t believe you’re his and he needs to have a wake up call
another reason he loves photo documentation is because it, in a way, immortalizes you both and it means a lot to him :3 i think he’s a very subtle guy too so you don’t really know these albums exist for a while
half of his phone storage is taken up because of you
has those couples widgets on his home screen but he likes the ones where you draw pictures back n forth ;^)
when you move into his place he lets you do whatever you want to it, very much ‘i want this to be your space too’ vibes
i feel like he carries things for you in his pocket / on his wrist when you go out, like a hair tie or anything else you tell him to
rubs your back when you can't sleep T^T this is self indulgent i don't care actually
also he loves movie nights / couch naps, like if you call for him and you can't immediately see him he's passed out on the couch 90% of the time
love of the couch is expanded upon slightly under the cut lol
i feel like he's a pretty good cook in the sense of very simple meals. like he takes something simple and spices it up with tricks that osamu taught him and is very proud of it. please kiss the cook
okay nsfw is under the cut if you wanted those thoughts too!!
nsfw:
was born to eat pussy
god put man on earth and said 'one of thy descendants will be suna rintaro. he shall be the chosen one'
great in bed in general, but heavy focus on the head game. the type to crave eating you out and do it for as long as you'll let him — he just rests his head against your thigh, laid on his stomach between your legs, and lazily eats you out til you push his head away (𖦹ᯅ𖦹) i need him holy sh
licks his chin and lips after too because yeah.
favourite position i personally think is literally whatever you find is the best for u. like whatever YOU say gives you the best comfort/stimulation, is what he's gonna opt for
but, that being said, i think he loves cowgirl and lazy, modified doggy positions (like leapfrog, loves to add a pillow under your hips)
anything with you on top too because suna, laid back with one arm bent and relaxed behind his head, watching you ride him with your hands on his chest? he'd see the light i'm afraid
BUT but he can also be a big missionary enjoyer because i think he loves lazy, lovey morning sex and even more so when you start it really casually like....it gets to him ok
couch sex. he loves how intimate it feels and really fucks with it. won't elaborate a ton but it's common in your guys' domain
not a grunter not a moaner, a groaner ♡
breathing gets a quicker when he's close, it's his tell LOL
talks you through it. he does i don't care. he's so sweet, but also he doesn't completely 'overload' you or overdo it, lets you cum on your own and enjoy the high but he just ... guides you through it with little bits of encouragement <3 a dream he is
sunarin my husband i love you
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leebitkitty · 9 months
Note
welcome back !! I've missed you sm 🤞
I'd like to ask for dom!jeongin x sub!gn!afab!reader with the prompts:
4: "you're not.. wearing anything under that.. are you?"
8: "you're sitting on my lap, we're friends and I'm hard, I'm sorry."
19: "I'm done being just roommates."
26: "it's late, shouldn't you be asleep?"
46: "fuck, I really need you right now."
48: "if you wanted me so bad you should've said it."
64: "you're driving me crazy right now, you jerk."
65: "I love you."
context: my idea was, jeongin living with his friends; he was crushing on reader and one night, he happens to be awake in the living room when reader goes for a glass of water, they see him; starts prompt 26 and for the rest I trust you <3
Hope its not too much, you can delete some prompts and adapt it as you want to !!
thank you so much for your time <3
– 🍥🍡 or 🍡🍥 Anon (can't remember, it's been a while 😭)
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"i knew this would happen one day. us. together."
pairings: dom!jeongin x sub!gn!afab!reader
genre: tiniest bit of angst, smut
note: (its 🍥🍡!!) hi anon!! it has been a while lol i have missed you! i am going to remove prompt 19 since i have done that already😭 also this is like hella short.. and extremely rushed🥰🥰 anyways, please enjoy!
prompts:
4: "you're not.. wearing anything under that.. are you?"
8: "you're sitting on my lap, we're friends, and i'm hard. i'm sorry."
26: "it's late, shouldn't you be asleep?"
46: "fuck, i really need you right now."
48: "if you wanted me so bad you should've said it."
64: "you're driving me crazy right now, you jerk."
65: "i love you."
warnings: explicit sexual content, roomate!jeongin, exhibitionism(?) jeongin has friends over, unprotected sex (be careful), penetrative sex (p in v), cumming inside, unestablished relationship
minors do not interact
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"hey y/n, could i invite my friends here for a sleepover?" jeongin calls from the living room, eyes still glued to the tv ever since the morning. "sleepover? yeah, sure, i mean it's your house too," you say from the kitchen, jeongins happy face immediately turning towards you, giving you a big grin as you feel your heart swell at how cute he looked in that moment. "thanks! we won't be too loud, and they'll probably just be in my room anyways," he continues, eyes focusing back to whatever show he was playing.
and that is how you ended up with 8 men in your house. not in his room like he said, but in your living room. hogging the tv at 9pm. to be honest, you were a bit upset at just how many people he had invited. you expected a few friends.. but definitely not 7 people. you sprint to jeongin, who was currently making snacks for everyone in the kitchen. "you didn't tell me you were inviting this many people!!" you whisper-scream. "and they're not even in your room!" you continue, so angry that steam could probably be seen coming out of your ears.
"reeeelaaaax y/n, c'mon. it's not even that many people! they're just having fun," jeongin slurred, obviously drunk out of his mind. you rolled your eyes and angrily stomped back to your room, slamming the door. why were you so angry? you honestly had no idea, and you felt mad at yourself for yelling (kinda) at jeongin when he was just having fun. you turned on the tv in your room to chase your thoughts away, falling asleep a couple hours later.
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you wake up from a nightmare, drenched in sweat, your oversized shirt with nothing underneath clung to your body. you rub your eyes and look at the digital clock on your bedside table, reading 12:43pm. you fan yourself off for a bit before getting up off the bed and heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. you walk towards the kitchen, opening the refrigerator for some ice for your water. "hey, y/n," jeongin calls out from his spot on the couch. "holy sh-," you nearly yelp out. "you scared me to death, jeongin. it's late, shouldn't you be asleep?" you continue, pouring your water.
"didn't feel like sleeping. my head hurts from the alcohol," he says, scooting over the couch to give you room to sit down. you sit on the couch, turning on the tv as you think. this could possibly be the perfect chance to tell jeongin you like him, you think to yourself. you look at jeongin once more as you scoot closer to him, eventually straddling his lap. to his suprise, he looked up to you, eyes widened, resting his phone on his pants to give you his undivided attention.
"i really need to tell you something," you start, staring into his eyes. "i.. i like you. always have. ever since i met you, i really could not stop myself from constantly thinking about you. i know its a bad time to say that but-" jeongin is quick to suprise you by setting his finger on your lips, smirking but still with a fond look in his eye. "shh.. i know." he purrs. "w-wait. jeongin?" you question, feeling something poking you from his lap. you look down, suprised to see him hard. "you're sitting on my lap, we're friends and im hard. i'm sorry. but am i? i couldn't help it.. with you moving around so much and telling me how much you love me," he giggles menacingly.
jeongin looks down to find you slightly grinding yourself on his boner, seeing you close your eyes and breathe shakily. his eyes almost pop out of his sockets when he sees your glistening cunt peeking out of your shirt. "wait." he stops you, "you're not.. wearing anything under that.. are you?" jeongin faintly murmurs. "mmm, i had a feeling we'd start doing.. this." you whisper. "you little whore. if you wanted me so bad you should've said it," he annouces. "can i.. touch you there?" he asks, reaching out to your clit. "yes, please, i really really need you," you whisper, bringing jeongins hand under your shirt to lightly trace your arousal.
"do you like it when i touch you there, baby?" jeongin rasps, kissing your clavicle. "fuck, i really need you right now." you grind harder, whimpering in his presence. "shh.. not too loud. we don't want my friends to wake up and see you helplessy grinding on my lap like a little whore, do we?" he interjects, ironically touching you faster. "f-fuck, no.." you lightly groan, muffling your mouth into jeongins neck. "i'm.. i'm close, jeongin," you quietly whine, grinding faster. jeongin rips his hand away from your cunt, putting his wet fingers into his mouth, rolling his eyes back. you look up and groan from the sight, trying to withdraw from jeongins tight hold on your waist to chase your already ruined high.
"mmm.. you taste so sweet, don't you? i've always wondered how you'd taste," he muffles, fingers still in his mouth. "you're driving me crazy right now, you jerk," you mutter angrily, still trying to squirm away from jeongins grip. "ah ah ah.." jeongin smirks, "you're not going to get any pleasure by acting like a little brat," he firmly hisses, implying the last 3 words with a flick to your clit making you shiver. "would you rather i have you cum on my fingers or my dick? the choice is yours, baby." he says lowly, fondling with your tits under your shirt. "o-on your dick," you hush. "right answer," he pecks your lips, untying his sweatpants.
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jeongin aligns with your cunt, both of you leaking like crazy. "can you be a good pup and ride me?" he asks gently, fingers tracing your lips. you nod, finally sinking jeongins cock in your hole. jeongin closes his eyes and lets the currently overwhelming pleasure take over him. "remember, we have to be quiet," he hushes, fingers playing with your shirt. you start moving, connecting your lips to jeongins neck leaving warm hickeys behind. you move faster, quiet whines leaving your throat. jeongin moves his hand to your mouth, silencing you from any loud noises. "fuck, you're doing so well," he strangles, lips pulled into a tight line, holding back his own moans. staying quiet was hard for him too, you thought.
"j-jeongin, i'm close," you say breathlessy, movements becoming sloppy and off-time. "relax, baby, i got you," jeongin sits up, thrusting up once, eventually pulling back out and thrusting into you again, setting his own pace. he keeps rutting into you, eventually touching your clit to get you to your high faster. you cum with a scrunched face, body shaking from the stimulation. jeongin feels you clenching onto him from overstimulation, cumming not much later.
you collapse on jeongin, both of your chests heaving, warm breaths fanning eachother. jeongin lifts his hand to pet your hair, calming you down.
"you make me so happy, y/n. i love you so much."
© leebitkitty, 2023
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johnwickb1tsch · 1 month
Text
THE DEVILS' TRIANGLE
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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."
****
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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.”
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“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. 
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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.” 
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donutwatches · 30 days
Text
MHA 2.24 - Katsuki Bakugo: Origin - part 1
Drumroll please, the match we have all been waiting for is commencing, ba-dum-tish!
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Oh honey, no. You should know better than to say the words "avoid combat" to Bakugofckyourself Katsuki.
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Let's be real, it would not matter what Deku said, Bakugo would snap at him no matter what. Deku could say "I love PB&J sandwiches." and he would get the exact same reaction.
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Oh, Deku has HAD IT. This made me laugh way too hard
Deku: "All I said was, 'I like peanut butter and jelly', why are you yelling?! You would think childhood friends could have a real conversation about our favorite sandwiches, but noooooooo."
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Deku's idolization of All Might has always walked the line between inspiring and too much. I love that this episode is bringing up the idea that his hero-worship of All Might is not 100% positive.
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All Might, this is not a gift anyone wants. Deku did not put 'broken metal railing sharp enough to make my back a pincushion' on his Christmas list.
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OH GOD! All Might you are not supposed to kill the kids!
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ALL MIGHT, NO! Bakugo need those organs, holy sh!t. I thought Aizawa was having too much fun fighting the students, but All Might is taking, having a blast beating up these kids, to a higher level.
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Bakugo, stop it, you are not allowed to be cute, damnit. It is great that he grew up admiring All Might like Deku, but took away a totally different lesson. He fixated on victory rather than helping people.
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Low blow, to call Deku scum while he's down, lol. Deku's ribcage has already been crushed, he doesn't need Bakugo tossing rude names on top of it all.
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It's kinda difficult to sound tough when you have a pukey face, but that isn't going to stop Bakugo from trying.
It is wild (and a bit pathetic) that Mr. Obsessed With Winning, will toss his values aside just because Deku is involved. Deku really gets under his skin, huh? I think if Bakugo did not care at all, he would not let Deku bother him so much.
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Yeah, Bakugo deserved that punch. But Deku just got puke on his glove, so they both lost really.
Click here for part 2/3
Click here for the masterlist.
Taglist:
@jessiedead, @blackaquokat, @granny-griffin, @champion-prism, @hyperfixations-and-cringe
Request to be added if you want!
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hahskeleton · 2 months
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⚠️MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR TLAES/TSAMS SPOILERS!!!!!⚠️
Okay so WHATTTTTTTTT ECLIPSE GOT THERAPYYYYY!!!!
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I know Moon made him go but I think it actually did him a little good! I’m being actually truthful, here, I think Eclipse really considered confessing a few things, but I also might be wrong. Eclipse could definitely still be putting up an act for all this but like he’s said in previous episodes, he never actually did anything he’s hated for doing. That was the previous copy of him, he’s just a replacement.
When he was asking about how Lunar was dealing with the whole *BOOM* thing and Earth was like, “We ain’t gonna talk ‘bout that” I’m honestly kinda glad. That would’ve probably flourished into a weird, long, argumentative conversation. On Eclipse’s part, tho, Earth’s pretty chill :)
When they were talking abt how Earth was coping with seeing Eclipse explode and Eclipse was like, “Yeah, how does that feel btw? Terrible? Scary?”
and then stuff happened and it led up to him saying, “You never know when your just going to go BOOM.” holy heck I should draw that. lmao I’ll probably be drawing a lot for this ep
also at the end when Moon fricking APOLOGIZED??? HUH??? Where was that hiding the whole time??? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I am so happy Moon finally said something to him, and damn it silenced Eclipse, too!
When he said, “You probably don’t want to hear it, but, I’m sorry for leaving you behind.” And eclipse DIDN’T SAY A SINGLE THING LIKE- holy moly man Eclipse I wish you actually took that relatively seriously. When that part came I was just-
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ALSO when Moon said that specific line “I know you probably don’t wanna hear it, but,” we forget Sun has said the exact same thing to him before, except not him, it was Old Moon he said it to. In that episode, Sun said VERY DISTINCTLY, “I know you probably don’t wanna hear it, and I know I don’t say it often, but,”
This honestly probably means absolutely nothing, it’s just something I’m pointing it out—
Anything thing, when Eclipse first came in and Moon was like, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he was talking like he went into a dentist’s office and his kid was misbehaving. Also Eclipse is a five year old at heart and you can’t change my mind. The way he walked in and just started insulting everything and throwing sh!t around was kinda funny to me.
Also, yeah, Earth noticed he was avoiding trying to talk about himself and his problems, and she was right he was definitely doing that. He would change the subject whenever Earth asked something remotely close to his feelings or his trauma.
I have a lot more to say but I don’t wanna make this post any other than it has to be so yeah… I’ll probably post another ramble and rant post today sometime to ramble about Eclipse and lore and stuff.
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thepookiestpookiebear · 2 months
Text
Twisted wonderland (WIP !!!)
Jade Leech x fem reader | Floyd Leech x fem reader
Can be read as any other gender if you'd like
Not a request but I just wrote this while on a road trip, aka right now. I wrote this in 30 minutes if you can't tell, obviously it's gonna be messy and not proofread
Cw : swearing/cursing, not proofread, Jade, Floyd. Ooc, rushed.
Wc: no fucking idea honestly I don't bother counting
You pant, absolutely exhausted. You had to chase after Grim to somehow force convince him to attend classes, but that little brat keeps running away and hiding. You find yourself all alone in some huge dark hallway, wandering around trying to find Grim.
"Grim ! Grim !! GRIM !!! WHERE ARE YOU ??" You shout, your voice echoing along the walls and high ceilings. "God knows what I'll do once i get my hands on you, you little sh*t.." you mutter angrily.
You're lost, but it's not like you really care at the moment. You're so busy cursing Grim in your head that you can't bring yourself to give a single f*ck.
That is, until you heard the dreadfully familiar voice of Floyd. (Insert oh shit, not good sfx)
"Heya, Lil shrimpy~ whatchu doing here, huh ? Did the little shrimpy get lost ?"
He says, with that menacing toothy grin of his. Sometimes you wonder how the hell his teeth are so white, what kinda toothpaste does he use ? Heck, do they even have colgate in twisted wonderland ? Maybe he uses its twisted wonderland equivalent. But damn, his teeth are whiter than my bedsheets and brighter than my earrings.
After a moment of internal brainstorming, you answer "Yup. Sucks to be me I guess. But that aside, why are you here ?"
His grin widens "that's for me to know and you to find out~" Oh how you want to wipe that stupid grin off his face because BOI you're not in the mood to joke around at the moment. 'Goddammit Grim, you will be the death of me one day..'
"Well, do you happen to know where Grim went ? That little sh- I mean, rascal, decided to play 'the dad who went to get milk' role and disappeared." Holy fucking shit, why is that burj khalifa eel leech whatever the fuck he is guy giggling like a fucking schoolgirl ? (Not that he's far from that actually) .
Giggle not as in the usual giggle he does but the kind of giggle a kid does when he's hiding something. Hmm. That's suspicious, that's weird..*insert sfx*
Well whatever, it doesn't matter what the hell he finds so funny because before you know it, you are gone.
Kaboom.
Abracadabra.
Gone. Gone and left no crumbs
Whoosh.
Because fuck no you ain't getting involved with Floyd or the octavinelle trio ever again. Even if fucking Leona held you at gunpoint and threatened you, you would still refuse to get involved with that slimy motherfucker.
'Yeah no thanks, but when I said I want my back broken I didn't mean it literally.'
*Insert sfx* AwOoP ! JuMpSCarE~
It seems luck wasn't by your side today, as you ran straight into a solid mass.
You groan "Oh fuck me.." you whine. Jade chuckles. Just as you had expected, he's grinning ominously at you while holding Grim in his right hand.
Well fuck, you should've known better. At this point these two leeches are your sleep paralysis demons.
(Would you believe me if I said I actually had Floyd as my sleep paralysis demon once ? It was fucking horrifying.)
"Oya oya, look who we have here, Floyd~ What a coincidence.."
He says, eyes glowing ominously while both of their grins stretch wider than your legs do whenever someone mentions geto or gojo. /j /not j
"Indeed a very unfortunate pleasant coincidence. Come to think of it, why weren't you with Floyd earlier ?"
He quirks an eyebrow "Oh, but i was. You just didn't see me. I was behind you the entire time, prefect."
"That isn't very...reassuring"
You trail off. "Well doesn't matter, can you just give me that thing ?"
You point at Grim, purposely calling him a thing to piss him off.
Grim begs to differ though, "THING ??? IM NOT A THING, IM THE GREAT SORCERER GRIM !!!!-" although that doesn't last long, he is quickly shut up by Jade's stare.
You grin, cockily. Haha take that you little gremlin ! That's what you get !!
But your thoughts are cut off just as quickly by Floyd, "Ehhh ? Shrimpy's mouth is open ?"
"Huh ? What does that have to do with this ?" You say, confused. Meanwhile Floyd quickly shoots Jade a knowing glance, which unnerves you.
"Nothing to worry your little head about, shrimpy~" "indeed, my brother is right, do not concern yourself with such matters."
Much to your shock, Jade wordlessly hands you Grim. Your mouth drops open
"Holy shit, Are you guys okay ? You behave as if you just ate Lilia's food... either that, or the sun will rise at the west tomorrow !"
The two simply smile and walk away.
Well, that was confusing..
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luv4fandoms · 1 year
Note
Think about the lost boys just coming right behind you and just sniffing you deeply into your neck and hair
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Brain would just short circuit, like whaaaaa. I mean I'd take it as a compliment that a being with a super high sense of smell enjoys my scent but also, holy sh*t that seemed intimate lol.
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Paul
Paul does this a lot anyways
By far the most touchy of the group
Like even before he and you become mates
The first time he did it (not long after meeting them) it flustered the hell out of you
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He had just walked up behind you one night while you were standing there talking to Marko, wrapped his arms around your middle, pulled you in, and leaned down to bury his nose in your neck.
You just stood there like 😶, which caused the boys to start laughing.
"Paulie" you spoke after a moment
"Yeah Sugar?" He'd ask, and you could feel the smile against your skin.
"Whatcha doing?"
*Cue Paul moaning, making you even more flustered. Something he took note of*
"You just smell so good" he'd tell you, and yup, you were a goner
After finding out about them being vamps it became even more flustering.
Like knowing that a vampire enjoys your scent enough to not kill you is awesome
But when said vampire enjoys sniffing (which often leads to licking) you every time he can get his hands on you.
Flustering.as.hell
Trying to clean up the cave?
Paul appears out of nowhere to pull you towards him for a sniff.
Sitting on the couch?
Bam suddenly Paul.
Walking by the couch while he is sitting on it?
Pulls you into his lap.
Already in bed?
Cuddle fest right? Boy would fall asleep with his face buried in the crook of your neck.
Like I said, Paul is touchy, he's loving, and he's a cuddle bug. Period.
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Marko
The first time Marko did it was genuine
You had used your new peppermint shampoo that night and Marko had found himself instantly drawn to the scent.
He could smell it across the cave and it felt like the combination of it mixed with your own scent was just drawing him in.
*cue cartoon character floating along following the scent*
You were sitting on the couch, turned sideways to get a better look at the fountain, which was currently the subject of your sketch.
When he slowly sat behind you, careful not to make you make unneeded marks on the page.
And just...*buries face, and deep sniff against the hair that covered the back of your neck*
*cue you almost shooting up off of the couch if his arm hadn't quickly wrapped around your middle*
"Marko what the hell?!?" You asked but you were glad he couldn't see your extremely red face.
"Sorry Cutie, you just smell so good" he smiled.
Marko would also be a little teasing shit
Often sniffing your neck as he held you close
And when you'd squirm because of how flustered it made you, he'd just give you that shit eating grin and ask.
"What's wrong my little juice box?"
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Dwayne
Your scent was one of the first things that attracted him to you that night on the boardwalk.
He could smell the mixture of florals and your own intoxicating scent from a mile away.
He would never say it out loud but your scent grounds and comforts him.
Just because he's the quiet one doesn't mean he doesn't have shit going on upstairs.
Sometimes he does get stressed, or just annoyed with the group.
But your scent just melts that all away and makes his brain quiet.
The first time it happened the group had been rowdier than normal
Fresh kills under their belt, even if it had been close calls of getting caught.
Marko and Paul were being especially loud, getting Laddie to join in on the fun.
David had this very tense aura about him, no doubt aware of the close call.
And Dwayne...Dwayne had retreated to the couch in the far corner, almost completely concealed in the shadows, but his aura was just...stressed.
You slowly made your way over to him and asked if he was ok, watching as he looked up at you for a long moment.
You knew he wasn't the talking type, so you figured that look was a simple "leave me alone".
Giving him a sad smile you just nodded and turned to leave.
Before you felt your body quickly move backwards.
Strong arms wrapped around your middle while your back pressed against his chest.
He quickly buried his nose in your hair and neck, breathing your scent in deeply and letting it calm him.
You on the other hand were beyond flustered and a blushing mess, heart racing.
"Stay for a bit?" He asked, if you would have said no he would let you go, as hard as it would be.
"Ok" you replied, feeling the smile against your neck before feeling him bury his entire face against your hair, arms tightening a bit.
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David
David would never let on how much your scent affected him.
Like he acts like he couldn't be bothered
When in fact your scent makes his brain both short circuit and go into overdrive
Honestly he hates it
Hates that he has a hard time controlling himself around you, because he needs control.
But every time you come around...404 error.
He hides it well though, the boys don't know after all, nor do they or you need to know.
But sometimes it gets harder to control
Some days he thinks about just pulling you to him and never letting you go
And one day that intrusive thought won out.
You had been cleaning up the cave, a task he had told you didn't matter, but you insisted.
Saying that sure they might trip over something and it didn't matter, but you might and break a bone.
A fact that he didn't want to happen so he let you clean.
And watched as you picked up Laddie's toys that you had bought him, as well as things the boys had left lying around.
Speaking of, the boys had gone off to the boardwalk with Laddie and Star, leaving the two of you alone.
By now only your scent filled the cave due to your slight sweat from cleaning
And it was driving.him.mad
The snapping point was when you passed in front of him too close, your scent completely washing over him, and the next thing you knew you were sat in his lap on his throne.
His nose buried against the hair that covered the back of your neck
Breathing deeply and releasing the breath in a low growl.
The action completely flustered you
Like holy shit wtf? Also please don't stop.
Because David didn't give you this kind of attention
Even though deep down you had been begging the universe for him to.
"D-David?" You asked after a moment, voice unsure, and being met with a tighter grip against your middle.
"Yes?" He asked easily before burying his nose against just your bare neck after moving your hair aside.
"W-What are you doing?"
"Nothing" he told you with another low growl, causing your mouth to clamp shut.
"Ok"
You sat there, slowly relaxing in his hold as he buried his nose against your skin more, slowly rubbing circles against your stomach.
Honestly it felt really good to be held by him, you felt extremely protected.
Almost enough to lull you into a light sleep.
Until you heard the next word he whispered.
"Mine"
I hope you like these ☺️. I know I definitely wouldn't be complaining if any of these fine gentlemen did this to me lol
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remixunderdacover · 11 months
Text
We should all have seen the shower trend now right? Right. So here’s a funny fic of a TMNT 2014 verse.
Raph X FemReader
Shower prank!
Mis spelled words
Curse words
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This is a fantastic idea cuz you have a half a bucket of ice water and how is the plan to use it… on Raph. Ok let’s admit this can go wrong way to easy but your gonna do it anyways.
No ninja skills what so ever but that don’t stop ya no no no no. Slowly opening the door just a crack at a time cuz your not gonna try to get caught. Quick tippy toes on the floor for fear of the much pressure on the floor for to long will make it creek.
You crack the door a bit more sucking in so you don’t bump the door. FINALLY INSIDE! The steam from Raphs hot shower rolls to you and through the open door witch will also be later used as your quick escape room that’s literally thirteen feet from the shower.
Tippy toes tip to the side of the shower while you line the bucket up and… dang it your short. Why must you come this far into the bathroom when your just now realizing you need to be two feet taller to get the bucket over the top of the shower- wait… hold up…
Light bulb problem solved. All you need to do is shove it over and run. Looking over your shoulder just being the lucky bean you are there’s a step stool, ok here you go stepping on the step stool lining the ice water bucket up with the top of the shower your plan of this fun and easy prank that hopefully won’t backfire is now in motion.
One… two… *Quiet deep breath* three…
The water bucket flakes in making patter sound when it bounces off the shower floor followed by a laugh of a now topped iced turtle. "Ah ha" Raph laughed as you quickly and as quietly as you so while trying desperately not to laugh until you could be out of the bathroom.
The sound of the shower curtains opening followed by a laughing cold Raphael. "You little sh!t" Both of you laughing as you almost made it to the door Raphs arm grabbed your shirt jerking you to him then wrapping his arm around your waist lifting you up and pulling you in the shower with him.
"Raph wait no no no no no no I’ll be, I’ll be good I promise." You reached for his arm to keep you from the still running water. "To late for that short stack" Raph turned the water to cold.
"Ok wait I’ll clean your room or I’ll train with you!" Raph shook his head laughing. "Oh you’ll be training with me alright after you clean off." A yelp left you as Raph dipped you into the cold water like a dance move.
"Holy crap that’s cold!" You clung onto him with your now dripping wet cold hair and shirt. "Yeah karmas a b!tch ant it." That smirk played on his face like he just hit a home run on a baseball game.
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