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gxtfictx · 22 hours

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are you in?

summary: compilation of short blurbs of your's and Emily's relationship before the team knew. Some based on actual chapters. it's just basically how you managed to keep it a secret TW: I fucked up the show's timeline so try to forget all you know about it, "only one bed" but reverse (it may be shit lol), suggestive content, i think that's it A/N: Writing this one has been a pain in the ass because every time i edited it i'd loose the changes so there are parts that i don't actually like at all but here it is nonetheless. As always: English isn't my first language. Reviews are appreciated. Like and reblog <3

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ new blouse?

A near death experience really deserves some kind of celebration

and you suppose a near-job loss experience does too

a week had passed after Emily and Hotch had rejoined the team on that case on Milwaukee, and Emily's head injury was almost just another scar, so when Morgan had asked you if you wanted to go out for drinks, you had looked at your girlfriend and said:"yeah, wny not"

and there you were, sitting at a table right next to Penelope, waiting for your girlfriend to bring all your drinks, and overhearing a conversation she was having with Hayley and Hotch, who seemed very relieved to have the night for themselves. You were supposed to be a part of that conversation, but you couldn't bring yourself to care enough to listen.

All your focus was deposited on your girlfriend, she had her arms rested on the counter trying to get the waiter's attention, a pair of dark jeans accentuated her figure, and all you could think about was getting home and ripping that blouse off of her.

You would have to settle for just staring, for now. Emily turns around to take a look at your table and catches you starring, you blush instantly, but she just smiles and gives you a wink, which makes you smile too, and suddenly your taken out of the trance by a voice.

"y/n are you listening to me?" Penelope says trying to grab your attention

"sorry, yes, what is it?" she looks at you suspiciously, as if with just her eyes she could decipher what was going on inside your head. She can't go on because Emily comes back with all your drinks, leaving them on the table and sitting next to you , maybe just a little bit too close but you could not complain.

She simply joins the conversation like it was nothing, meanwhile you sip on your drink hopeful that the alcohol will help you take your girlfriend away from your mind. However, Emily has different plans for you, as she rests her hand on you thigh behind the table so no one can see, dangerously high, she can't be bothered at all, she just keeps talking to Hotch as if nothing was going on, but all you can think about is her.

Morgan, who had spent a good hour on the dance floor, collecting girl's phone numbers, comes around, he grabs Penelope's hand to take her to the dance floor with him.

She shoots from her sit, swinging her hips to the rhythm of the music, Morgan guides her, a huge smile on his face as he pulls her to dance with him.

To everyone’s surprise Hotch pulls Hayley to dance with him as well, and just like that, in a matter of seconds, Emily and you are left alone.

When you turn your head to look at her, she places her face closer to yours, dangerously close, you’d say, but you can’t bring yourself to separate.

“Are you having fun baby?” She asks, a soft smile on her lips “yes, but it’s getting hard not to touch you” she smiles, her face closer now you can almost feel her lips brushing against yours. Her hand, which was still on your leg, starts caressing your thigh, setting progressively higher. You’re starting to lean into the contact when you suddenly remember where you are. Anyone who looked at you right now could see the whole scene.

“Em, stop” you say, drawing her hand away from your leg and separating your face form hers “they’re gonna see”

“Ok, yeah, sorry” she says, fake regret on her face as she takes another sip of her drink

“So, I caught you staring at me before, what was it that was so interesting?” She says like it’s the most innocent question ever, but you just know she wants to bother you a bit more. You would never admit how much you love it.

You check no one is looking at you. Both Hayley and Hotch are in their own little world, and Morgan and Penelope are too focused on each other to care. So you lean into her to whisper in her ear

“I was thinking how hot my girlfriend looks and how much I want to rip that blouse off of her” she chuckles and you go for another sip

“Thank you, it’s new” she says louder, like you just asked her the most simple question about her clothes

She leans into your ear this time, with the softest, sexiest voice she just whispers, the feeling of her breath on your ear is suffocating now

“I would love to let you take it off however you want. Do you want to go?” She asks, you eagerly nod your head, begging her with your eyes to take you home right now.

“C’mon, I’ll tell them you’re not feeling well and I’m driving you home” she smiles at you and winks, you follow her to the back of the bar where JJ and Spence are, to let them know you’re leaving.

For your surprise, JJ walks up to you too.

“We have a case” she just says, and you look at each other with disappointment.

Looks like Emily’s blouse was staying on for now.

𖨆♡𖨆 3x03 scared to death

It had been a weird morning.

You woke up with a headache. After your last case you had arrived at Emily’s apartment, and parked your car outside so you could get to work on different cars the next day.

You were thinking about having a calm night. A bottle of wine, a movie, Chinese takeout, falling asleep early enough so you wouldn’t be so tired the next day, all that.

Little did you know Emily had some things in mind for you.

The first glass of wine was alright, you were barely feeling it, but after that one another 3 followed, you came up with this stupid game of drinking every time the movie had a cringe scene, and lucky for you the movie was really bad. You would sometimes forget that particular wine affected your girlfriend to a certain level, so one thing leading to another you had fallen asleep at more or less 4am.

Next day you wake up to a very loud phone call. You turn around confused by the phone ringing, but you’re not sure where exactly it’s coming from. It had flown away yesterday night along with your clothes and had landed on the bedroom floor.

Emily's arm was wrapped around your waist, your leg on top of hers, you were both just a mess of sheets and naked bodies. You get out of bed, waking your girlfriend up, who lets out an angry groan.

You finally find the phone behind Emily's pants, JJ's name appearing on the screen. "Hello?" you answer "Hey, we have a case, I can't reach Emily, and you're both late, do you know where she could be?" she asks. You check the time

8:15am

Shit

shitshitshitshitfuckfuckfuck

"yeah, I'm sorry, ugh... i don't know where Emily is, i had a problem with my....kitchen sink...but i'll be there as son as i can ok? bye JJ" you don't even wait for her to answer, you just hang up the phone and run to wake Emily up.

"Em! Baby wake up its 8am we're late!" she finally opens her eyes, her somnolent face tries to decipher what you just said. Her body starts moving first, siting upright.

"JJ just called, we have a case, you have to call her back, tell her there's traffic or something, I'll leave first ok?" you run around, trying to find something wearable. You already had your own drawer at her place for times like this.

You fly around the apartment checking you have everything with you, car keys, purse, phone... You walk up to Emily, still getting dressed, only a pair of pants on and her bra, she’s looking around for something to wear with the pants.

You grab her waist, pulling her in for a kiss “I’ll see you there ok?” You tell her. She smiles at you, then grins, still half a sleep, and you leave.

You weren’t exactly sure if it had been the wine, or the 4 hours of sleep, but you were hoping the meds you had taken with your breakfast (a coffee) would start acting quickly, because your headache was starting to get unbearable.

Sitting on the round table, you revise the file with the case, when Emily arrives, excusing for being late, but Hotch hasn’t even arrived yet and we hadn’t started, so she’s technically still on time.

As soon as you look up to catch a glimpse of her, your headache magically disappears. You regret it immediately because now she’s all you can think about.

It’s ridiculous, you spent hours last night with each other, hell, you spent all day with her! You should’ve had enough of her by now! But how could you when she was wearing that red tank top?

You stare at every movement she makes, taking her jacket off, uncovering her slightly muscular arms, you cannot physically take your eyes off of her, following her every move. Red was definitely her color, there was no argument about that. You could not focus on the case anymore.

After the usual “wheels up in 30” they all leave the room, but you grab your girlfriends arm last second, trying to keep her from leaving. “Em wait a second” You’re both left alone, looking to see if there’s anyone left in the room, everyone has left and far from you two.

"What is it?" she asks

You feel the need to whisper although there's no one in the room anymore "You look so good in this I'm genuinely considering going down on you now" you say tugging the red fabric between your fingers. She smiles widely, getting closer to your face.

You aren't sure where this renewed confidence is coming from, it's just that Emily made you feel like that sometimes.

"was yesterday not enough?" she says in a teasing voice, but you can tell she's feeling just like you. Her face mere inches from yours, you are almost begging her for some action.

"we still have 30 minutes" she twirls her head as if asking you, and you nod, unable to form any words

"ok you go first, I'll meet you down" you're already crossing the door when you turn around, check for anyone who could see you, but there's no one even close to your vicinity.

You rush back, giving Emily a peck on her lips, and separating to go run downstairs.

˚☽˚｡⋆ Can I join?

It's almost time. You can even taste it.

A free night. It's been some time since you got one of those.

You could even see it. A wine glass, your big ass bathtub, a dozen candles, some exotic scented bath products and your wonderful girlfriend.

You look across the room for her, she's working on some files still. You could say she literally feels your eyes on her, because she turns around and catches you staring at her, smiling warmly at you and winking, which makes you instantly blush.

"Any plans for the night, Prentiss?" Morgan asks her coming by her desk, you're already walking up to them so you don't miss a thing from their conversation.

"yes. I got a date" she just says like it was nothing.

A weird sensation runs through your body, a mix between jealousy and excitement. You obviously knew you were the date, but the jealousy came mostly from the fact that she could not mention it was in fact you.

"really? who's the lucky one?" Morgan asks rising his eyebrows

"hot tub" she answers like nothing, just playing it cool, but the grin on her face suggests she has been picturing your night just like you had.

"oh, that sounds like a party" he teases, but she doesn't lose a single second on it "you're so not invited"

"am i?" you come from nowhere, you are right behind Emily, who turns around, holding back a smile, she gives in the game, after all, this is the perfect way to make them not suspect a thing.

"now you, i could consider it" she answers, and you lower your head, smiling to the floor so no one sees it.

"Now that sounds like a better party" he mutters.

.•°•.•. .•.•°•.

The soft bathrobe hugs your body keeping it warm, a wine glass in your hand, resting your back against the sink, you wait as your girlfriend finishes the bath.

The whole scene is idyllic, candles lit all around, low warm light illuminating the stance, Emily's black hair falling on her shoulders, her robe barely closed, she lights the last two candles, and checks the water temperature before walking up to you

"ready?" she asks sweetly, untying the knot in your robe, she takes off hers and gets in first, giving you a hand to help you get in, yourself.

You lay back, resting your back against her, relaxing immediately into her touch. White bubbles around both your bodies. She kisses your neck from the back. Breathing out, you groan at the feeling, she caresses the skin of your ams with her fingertips, gently.

"do you think Morgan can even begin to imagine this?" you ask her, she stops her ministrations to answer you

"i really hope he doesn't, but teasing him is fun" you chuckle

"well, imagine how we'll blow out his mind when we tell him" you begin wondering. She kisses the sensitive skin on the curve of your neck, nipping at the skin, you close you eyes leaning on the contact.

"are you thinking about it?" she stops to ask

"Morgan? hell no" she chuckles

"i mean about telling Morgan" you turn around to look at her, making a bit of water overflowing the tub

"well, yeah, I mean, I think about telling all of them" she twists her head trying to understand

"not now though! Not yet... at all" you can see her relaxing instantly, a smile begining to form on her lips

"Em, this past months have been...amazing, and i want to keep that for ourselves just a little bit more... also the sneaking around is very fun" you both laugh in agreement "but?" she asks waiting for you to add something more

"but, that doesn't mean I'm not excited for our friends to know, you know? I mean, going out together and actually kissing, dancing together, to be able to say we are, well, together tonight... basically just doing it all together" her big brown eyes linger on to you, she's full smiling now, you know she feels the same, but she just wouldn't be the one to tell you.

"i love you" she mutters, you smile, holding to her shoulders for support, warm drops of water running down your arms, you kiss her gently in approval.

"well, i say let's enjoy the meantime then" her hands fly to your waist to hold you, and you kiss her deeply again.

𓇢𓆸 Care to share?

Hotch had decided to call it a day, it was too late, and you all knew how difficult it could be to function when you don't get enough sleep.

You had't had time to check in earlier at the hotel, so when you got there and saw it, you knew that wood creaked like shit.

You had expected nothing less, being in a cold state, the hotel reception had a big fireplace which kept the ambience cozy and warm, the wooden planks creaked behind your feet even behind the thick carpet.

Hotch turns to us, with the room keys in his hands "I'm sorry but this is a small village, this was the only place that still had spare rooms, and they're all packed up this week so some of us will have to share" he says.

"how many?" Morgan asks concerned "two double, three single rooms" Hotch says

"well I'm not sharing with pretty boy here" he complains

"Dave and i can share one" he says "Well, y/n and I also don't mind sharing" Emily rushes to say. You walk up to her "right?" she asks as if she needed to make sure "yeah of course, no problem" you say, smiling at her. Her quick willfulness to share with you and you eager reaction winning you a suspicious look from JJ, but you couldn't bring yourself to care, because tonight none of you would have to sneak out, waiting till it's late enough for the rest to have fallen asleep, you wouldn't have to wake up early to get back to your room, you had your place tonight.

"alright, thank you" you think it's funny, you should be the one thanking Hotch, not the other way around. You grab your key and Emily follows you upstaris.

.•°•.•. .•.•°•.

You can tell the place is old just by the keys, it's an inn more than a hotel. You turn the key in the lock, opening the door partially, when you feel Emily's hands on your waist, grabbing it, you close your eyes as soon as you feel her lips on yours, and she kisses you deeply, possessively.

You surround her body with your arms for support, leaning into the kiss, closing the door behind you with your foot. Tugging your hands on her hair, you surrender to the connection and just give in, not caring who could've caught you mere seconds ago on the hallway.

She pushes you agains the door, her hands finding the way behind your shirt, touching you everywhere, she moves to kiss the corner of your lips, your cheek, the skin behind your ear, leaving a trail of wet warm kisses, finding your pulse point you let out a needy whimper in approval.

"you think JJ knows?" you ask breathlessly "she suspects something, but she can't technically prove it" her lips brushing your neck with every word, her soft breath warm on your skin.

"Well, she should start paying more attenti-" your mouth falls open. It was the first time you had tken a good look at the room since you entered "Em, look" you say trying to stop her ministrations much to your distaste to make her look around.

Emily turns around and takes a look at the room. You should've guessed this would've happened. Hotch would never slept in the same bed as Rossi, and you shouldn't have to do that ether, right?

"Two beds?" she says, in awe. "what do you suggest?" she asks

"should we join them?" you try "we'll end up falling through the middle" she says "ok, then. You chose"

Next day you wake up completely wrapped around Emily, your nose buried in her neck, inhaling her scent, you were almost thankful for the small size of that bed.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

A/N: this one took me a long ass time to finish so i hope its not shit. Like & reblog, any feedback is greatly appreciated. Also I'm open to requests because I'm almost out of ideas

#criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss lesbian #emily prentiss x reader #lesbian #lesbian pride #wlw #wlw fanfic #wlw smut #sapphic #criminal minds #criminal minds one #criminal minds oneshot #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss fanfiction

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col0rlord · 3 days

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fortnite? ~P.B.

Paige Bueckers x fem!reader

Warning: smut, strap, fingering, p eating.

———————————————————————

This is getting really annoying. We just came back from winter break and some of us had to move dorms. I was included in that. I just got done unpacking and started

studying for my physics final, but my dorm neighbor was blaring

Dangerously In Love by Beyonce and it was getting annoying. It was like 10 o’clock and I know I wasn’t the only one annoyed over this. The song was good after about the first time but after the third time it played was enough.

After a song ended I thought it was over, Till it played again. I slammed my head on the desk and sighed.

“That’s it” I said as I stood up and walked over to the door next door.

Knock

“If you are going to blare music at least change the song” I yelled at the door looking at the frame on the top. The door swung open and there stood Her. Paige. I have known her since freshman year of High school. She always was a flirt to me, but I never felt for that. I think that got on her nerve and she made it a goal in life to get me to bend over her knee and beg for her to fuck me

“Paige” I said crossing my arms and resting all my weight on leg

“Y/N” she said back. Hand still on the door as she looked me up and down

“Finally came for this dick?” she said, licking the inside of her lips and smirking.

Don’t

Not going to lie, it was hard saying no sometimes. Right now was one of those times. The gray sweat pants and white T-shirt. Her glasses on the bridge of her nose.

Don’t

I rolled my eyes and finally uncrossed my arms. “If I knew you would be in this dorm I would have requested to move. Some of us actually are in school to learn and not just play games all the time. Please turn the music down.” I said standing there looking into her eyes waiting for a response.

Her staring back was kinda intimidating to me. I slightly shifted my weight to the other leg.

“So you want to come inside?” She asked, smiling and swinging her other arm before looking down and looking back at me.

I just groaned and stormed back to my room and locked the door.

“Call if you need me.” She said before I shut my door and locked it. These feelings are going to get let loose and spill out of the floor. She is going to stab me with her words and it’s all going to spill out from my heart. Sometimes I wish she never spoke to me, but if that happened we wouldn't be here now would we.

After my little rant in my head I felt my stomach turn and rumble. I was planning on ordering pizza, but got distracted.

I opened my phone and pulled up the Papa John's app and ordered a large sausage, hoping to save some for other days so I don’t have to meal prep for this week.

After about 30 minutes of watching tiktok and tracking the pizza it finally got here. Walking to the door, opening it and nothing being there. No person and no pizza.

“Well what the hell?” I asked as I stepped out of my door and looked around for it.

Walking to the door of the dorm building thinking they just couldn’t get inside, but still. No luck.

This leaves me one option. Paige. Asking Paige for this was hard because I knew she was going to give me shit.

Walking over to the door hesitating to knock, but I was really hungry and that pizza sounded really good at the moment.

Knock

Waiting for her to open the door was probably the longest minutes of my life. She swung the door open and was chewing on something and smiling.

“Thanks for the food, you for dessert?” She asked me, looking me up and down again.

“I’m just here for my food that you stole and I want it back and at least 5 dollars for the slice you clearly ate.” I told her crossing my leaning my top half forward and rocking back on my heels.

She moved over and swayed her arm for me to walk in. “Or you could stay with me and KK?” She asked. I leaned over to look inside and saw her sitting on the couch playing Fortnite waving at me. I waved back and gave a slight smile.

At least we won't be alone together so I caved. “Fine. You have Ranch?” I asked her to walk in and grabbed a paper plate that was laying out.

“Yes. It’s in the fridge. There is sugar free soda in there too. Sprite and Orange soda.” She says, closing the door and locking it going back to sit next to KK tucking her feet in and watching as she was playing hyping her up.

I walked over to watch and eat my pizza. I was debating where to sit because I did not want to sit next to Paige on the conch so I just sat on the floor by her legs. Setting the soda I pulled out and placed it on the coffee table along with my plate. My brother plays fortnite and I watched him so I kinda understood what was going on. Never played, but was fun to watch.

“KK RIGHT NEXT TO YOU!” Paige yelled pointing to the screen and then she died. She threw her controller down and groaned. She got 3rd. Wasn’t that bad.

“Kk why the hell did you not listen to me? I told you to keep watch on the left because the medallion was there looking for you.” She said throwing her arm to TV and grabbing the controller and readying up for her turn.

“Man, I'm over this game. I’m taking a shower.” She said standing up and walking over to the bathroom. Leaving me and Paige alone. Just what I was trying to avoid. Ok maybe this was my time to leave.

Paige looked over at me and smiled. “Want to give it a try?” She asked me, handing me the controller. I was about to shoot myself. I have never played before so this means she was going to have to teach me and then we have a whole movie moment and kiss then it turns to something more and-

“Sure.” I said grabbing the controller.

“I have never played before.” I asked, looking at her. “I’ll teach you.” She grabbed the controller and flipped it over.

“This one is like aiming and this one shoots. This Jumps, Reload, Move, look, and building is something you just grow to learn about. Just try this for now.” she explained as she pointed and landed the character.

“I’m going to be so bad at this game. You play and I’ll watch” I said as I was watching the screen and handing it back to her.

She just laughed and went along with playing.

“I’ll watch you and study and maybe next time we can try playing.” I said as I watched her fingers move on the controller. Watching what buttons she was pressing and her finger movements shifting from one button to the next. This was kinda hot in the way she was moving them.

“You should watch the screen to see what the movements are like. Unless you want to cut this short and want me to put these in you.” She said smiling and wiggling her fingers as if she was fingering the air.

OH-

“I can’t stand you sometimes.” I said, shaking my head and looking at the screen. She just smiled and shifted around to get more comfortable. I finally stood up and sat where KK was sitting right next to her. Never been this close to her since the party after they got to the final fours and we were drunk. Some movements that night weren't the best. She looked over at me and smiled as she moved closer as if I wasn’t going to see this.

“How about everytime I kill someone, you take a piece of clothing off. LIke truth or strip.” She said, Not moving her eyes from the screen. That one was new. From the thought of what could lead you you felt yourself get wet. The cold touching you sends shivers up your back. I liked where this was going so I agreed. Right after I said yes she killed someone. her biting her bottom lip and smiled at me. Moving her legs to set on the grounds and she seems focused now.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. Thank the lord I haven’t showered yet and still had my bra on. After I threw it in front of her hoping to mess her up, she didn’t budge. She was locked in. about 7 minutes later she killed another. I slid my pants down and threw them in front of her again and she side eyed me this time and bit her lips letting out the breath she was holding.

Coming to the end of the game she only had two kills and there were three people left including her. No way she would kill these people and win this.

I sat watching her to see if this was going to happen or not.

“If you win I’ll have sex with you right here right now.” I told her. She licked her lips and she rubbed her hand ver her face to try and focus on the game.

“You being half naked next to me is not helping me focus.” She said covering her eyes and rubbing them with her fingers.

She heard shots from the TV and then snapped back from her state and ran her character over to where she heard the sound from.

“One is already low from the other guy and so this should be easy.” She said shooting at on guy and killing him.

“Boom anddddddd Boom.” She said as she snipped the last person and killed them with a headshot.

After she did an emote on the guy she grabbed my face and kissed me. Crawling up to me and moving her hands to unclamp my bra. Sliding the straps down my arms and letting my bra fall next to the couch. I pulled at the back of her neck to deepen the kiss. She pushed her knee in between my legs and applied presser to where I needed her most and let out a moan into her mouth.

She then took her left hand and slid it down the front of my panties and rubbed circles around my bud. Wanting her deep inside me. She finally pulled back and looked me in my eyes and seconds later she put two fingers inside me. My eyes widened and I gasped and flung my hand to hold her wrist. She started slowly moving her arm back and forth. Just enough to tease me. Just the sheer thought of the fact that it was Paige Bueckers inside me right now was enough to make me cum all over her fingers. She pulled her fingers out and stuck them inside my mouth.

“You must have wanted me just as much as I wanted you for you to have cum that quick.” She said before removing her fingers and putting them in her mouth. Moaning as she sucked off everything that I coded.

“God I wanted to know what this tasted like in real time. All the nights I lay humping my pillow wanting to know what it felt like to be inside you and taste you. The one thing I have been wanting to know for years and years.” She said moving her eyes from one of mine to the other.

She dipped her hand back in my pants and pushed her fingers back inside of me. Her fingers go in and out of me at a fast pace. I have never felt pleasure like this in my life and I loved it. This feeling was like filling a water balloon up to the point it was about to pop and explode all over the place.

A sense of pleasure washed over me and that's when I let go and came. I closed my eyes and let it all out.

“Holy fuckk” I heard her say as she watched me. I opened my eyes and saw that her shirt was soaking wet and that her pants were wet too. I was in shock with how much cum there was. I looked at the couch and saw a wet spot too.

“Oh yes baby that was so hot.” She told me licking it up from all over my legs and her mouth. She stood up and reacted to my hand to help me up.

I stood up and she was playing with the hem of my panties. “I killed them both so take these off.”

After she said that she ripped them down to the floor and I kicked them off somewhere.

She grabbed my hand and led me to what I assume was her room. She closed the door behind us and locked it. She pushed me on the bed to where my legs were off the edge. I bring them up to where I am resting my heels on the edge.

Paige then gets on her knees in front of me and dips her head in and gives it just a kitty lick. I threw my head into the bed and arched my back. God this girl was going to be the death of me and I was not complaining.

She then connected her lips with my clit and kissed it, pulling back with a smile and lip bite. The sensation of the little touch was enough to make the room drop about 20°. I needed this girl to touch me in ways that were going to make me go to church next sunday.

“Paige please I need you to touch me please. I can’t handle the teasing from you anymore. I have wanted this for too long and you are making me want more than I can handle.” I told her as I reached for her head to pull her in, but she dodged me.

“I know baby, I know. Just let me take you there. I promise you will get there. Just takes time. Have you ever felt like this?” She asked, darting her eyes to where we were just connected. She was hungry and I was her food. Like a husky caring for a pup, yet wanting to play rough.

I shook my head no, because honestly no one has ever been able to turn me on and touch me in the way she does. She had that power, the lust. The power of control.That's what I was under. Her control. She can control me. Manipulate me.

“Let me Show you.” She and wrapping her arms around me to pull me closer to her mouth. She looked down at me with desire. She was loving this just as much as me.

She connected once more and sucked a little harder. Her tongue coming out her mouth, flat to run a strip on my entrance.

I felt every taste bub on her tough hit me sending waves of chills run threw me. Feeling like I was getting pumped with fluid. Paige fluid running in my veins and arteries. Like I need it to survive.

She pulled away and looks me in the doorways to my soul. “I want you to come so hard, and look at me as it happens. So you know who is making you feel that good. So if anyone ever touches you the way I do you have the image of me right here in front of you doing this. So you know the first time and remember the feeling of me and my fingers. My mouth working on you like this.” She said rubbing circles on my clit watching it and watching as I pules. Begging for more of her, more of her touch.

I just wanted to feel this feeling she is talking about. The anticipation was eating me up from the inside. “Please. Paige I don’t think I can take this anymore. Telling me how you will make me feel and not knowing what it will feel like. This is going to drive me insane.” I told her as I grabbed the back of her head pulling her to me. I needed more. This wasn't a want. I felt as if I was going to Shrivel up and die. She was what was going to drain me of all the nutrients I needed.

I think that was what set her off, because she dived in. Acting like she was a dog training to stay still and listen to commands. Under her I couldn’t control my movements. It was like I was being brought back to life. Soul sucking and being dropped back in.

I felt her hand creep up and Insert itself inside me.

This was that feeling. No one has ever done this on me is wild. I wish people did this a lot more, but I am happy it is paige doing this t me. Making me like this. All for her. She could kill me right now and I won't feel anything, Won’t do anything. Won’t be anything. But for her. I would be something. Something she will remember. Something she would want again.

My mind is fuzzy with the thoughts of what she could do to me, What she is doing to me. Pumping her index and middle finger inside me as her mouth was sucking and poping my clit out her mouth.

“I’m so close. Fuck. Please, Don’t stop Paige. “I said grinding against her mouth for more. Riding her face to get me there. Looking down at her as I throw my hips around hitting her nose. Grazing it over my clit. Oh just to see her like this and not arguing back with me was showing me exactly what I was lacking in my life.

I felt as if my hips were going numb from the feeling and the movements I was doing. My legs were shaking as I brought them up to my chest and grabbed them. She moved her hand from under me to the back of my thigh to hold me open for her. She stood up, but kept her head down and bent her top half forward.

She started pumping her fingers inside me faster and I was seeing black spots everywhere. Was this the last thing I would see before passing out? Like greening out on weed, was I doing it with Sex? Paiging out? I felt Nauseous, But loved it. Being overwhelmed with the idea of her and was about to have a panic attack? No. I don’t want that. I was in space drifting in the sky

Just like that I was over. Coming down to earth and falling on the ground with flowers growing around me and Paige. Slamming me back in her room on her bed. Bring me back and feel her fingers and mouth away from me. She sat looking at me licking her fingers and swiping her mouth with her middle finger and placed it back in her mouth.

“This could be my sweetener if I wanted.” She said placing her tongue on the inside of my thighs. Licking the drops rolling down my leg.

“I could go all night tasting you. It's like licking angel tears.” She told me as she came up to kiss me. Connecting our lips to share what she tastes of me.

She came up and wiped the tears from my cheeks. I didn't even know came out of me.

“Oh baby. Did that feel good? You want more?” She asked. I didn’t even know if I could take more. If tears fell from my eyes and I didn’t even know it. That was enough, but my body craved more of her. I need you inside me more than anything else.

“Yes” I said without even thinking twice. I need this girl to take me to a whole new level. I needed the standards to be raised if anyone else was even going to cross my mind. I needed her to teleport us to a whole new place.

“I’ll go get ready as you calm down from your high.” she said leaving me on her bed and walking to the clothest to grab something and walking out the room. I stared at the ceilling as she did everything she needed.

As she walked out I could hear KK saying something to her, but my mind was too fuzzy to comprehend what was being said.

I heard the water in the bathroom running and the front door close. I was being brought down to the earth slowly and calming. I could hear tapping on the window and that is what brought me out this trance and I looked over to the window and saw water droplets collect on the window and start racing down.

The door opened to reveal Paige wearing a strap around her waist. This was new. I never even had owned one of those and to have Paige be the first time inside me like this was going to be too much to handle. I can already feel it.

She walked over to me and looked down at my hole and rubbed the tip on it. Walking at my face to see if I was calm enough to even take this. I did nothing but watch as she did all this. The anticipation was killing me. I just needed her to put it inside me and stp making me think about it. I needed to experience this. I wanted to know everything about this. I wanted to know how she controlled this situation.

“Oh baby you ready for more now. You want to feel this dick inside you?” She asked. Moving her eyes from where she is looking at your face to see if you would give and answer with your face expression.

“Yes please. I need to know.” I whined as I grabbed the sides of her face. Trying to get a sense of this all being real. I needed to know that this was real and not another fantasy I was creating late at night in my own bed.

She brought her fingers to her mouth and spit on them. She took them and ran them over me and on the tip. She removed her hoodie leaving her in a white wife beater and sports bra underneath. Placing both hands on the side of me and looking at where we were about to be connected.

“Baby I want you to watch as it goes inside you. Watch as you stretch over me.” She said, placing her hand behind my head and holding it up for me to watch. Looking at the purple silicon as it was glazed from the saliva and the light shining from the moon outside. This point was when I was taking in the room and what it looked like. The moon gave a dust of light in the room enough to see, but not enough to live with.

She placed her forehead on mine slowly pushing it in. I have never been this full. It was a pain that I can get behind. Feeling her be inside me for the first time and probably not the last time. I want to relive this moment for days. I wanted to feel this pain, wanting to have this feeling stay with me.

She let out a low moan and closed her eyes tilting her head to look at the wall. Watching her be like this and I was the one to cause this on her body was chilling. Watching her act like this from me, if someone would t tell me this moment was happening I would have slapped them so hard.

She pushed the rest of her inside of me and it was so much inside. She could split me in half with her strap.

Tears filling my eyes from the pressure. She stopped to whip away the loose one that fell on my left cheek. Laying herself on top of me and wrapping her arms around me, lifting my back off the bed and bringing me to her chest. I wrapped my arms around her neck to hold myself up and right when I clasped my hands she snapped her hips forward in me. The angle she was going in was making her curve up and hit my front wall.

Her hips thrusting back and forth, making the bed squeak at our movements. My hair falls down as it hits my back. Removing my hands and placing them on the bed to create Stability from the back.

Her groaning and moaning in my ear is sending me straight to bless. She still is watching where we are connected, but me on the other hand. I can’t concentrate on anything but her talking me through this and her moans.

“You are doing so well for me baby. You are such a good girl for me.” she told me looking up at me and licking a strip up my neck. The wetness on my neck creates a cold feeling of euphoria. So many senses are being turned all the way to the max. Never been like this. Never been talking like this or talked to like this, but was loving it. It was like I found my true self and feelings. Like a third eye opening.

Her grunts were getting deeper and deeper as she was picking up her pace and getting weaker almost. She was about to cum I just knew it.I was too. The same build up from earlier was coming. She let out a long low moan watching me in my eyes as she came. Watching her ‘cum inside me’ was maybe the best sight ever. I would rather watch this replay in my mind than see the grand canyon.

Watching as her mouth opened slightly. Eye candy at its finest. From watching her and the idea of her made me let go. Exploding like a Volcano. The same heat coming from one too. It was getting too hard to hold back. She fell on top of me as she was still inside of me, breathing heavily.

“Oh my god. I have never came so hard in my life.” I said as I came. At this moment I didn’t even think it was me saying it. I think it was my soul saying it for me. She didn’t even move. That's when I realized I messed up. Everything was going good too.

She turned her head and looked at me. “Give me a chance now?”

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #wbb x reader #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #wbb

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bg3trashcompactor · 3 days

Text

I wrote a smutty one shot because I wanted to sin outside of the longer fic I’m working on and felt like I needed the practice.

I Think He Knows

Link to story on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55385323

Astarion comes home early unexpectedly as a week long case wraps up before lunch.

He is going to scold you for leaving your dirty adventuring gear in a heap downstairs, but is so happy you're home he almost forgets all about it.

Until he sees what you were doing in his dirty clothes in your freshly changed bedsheets…

(POV female Reader x Magistrate Astarion/3k words of straight up filth underneath the cut)

You were so close to your climax, rubbing and thrusting the soft, spongy spot inside of your entrance with your fingers when you heard the jingling sound of the front door opening.

Shit.

“Darling, home from your adventuring so soon?” The voice of your beloved calls out to you, the musical words carried up the stairs by the acoustics of your shared townhome.

How are you home so early? What in the nine hells- how is he home so early? He sounded fairly confident in the sending spell he replied to as you made your way within the final stretch of the road home that jury deliberations were going to take at least until the end of the day.

You can hear him grumble unintelligible words of disapproval at the filthy armor you had peeled off shortly after you arrived home and left on the floor of the foyer.

“Adventuring gear strewn about the floor again? My sweet, we’ve talked about this…”

Your heart pounds from his scolding and you sit up in bed, covering your drenched thighs with the soft, clean linens of the duvet. Hands wet with the slick of your arousal work swiftly to halfway fasten the buttons of his dirty work shirt that you blamed for the cause of your activities after you had arrived home early.

The stairs creak under the weight of his feet as he makes his way up to your shared bedroom.

Running your hands through your hair, you try to smooth out the area that had been frizzled by your rutting, wiping the sweat off your brow.

You can feel a heat wash over you when you flush at the sight of your husband whisking around the corner of the hallway in irritation, black silk robes floating behind him as he sharply turned the corner. He was always gorgeous, but there was something irresistible about him in his magistrate garb- even more so when he would take it off.

An involuntary clench rocks your body forward when you notice he had already begun the process of undressing on his way up the stairs. His flawlessly pressed shirt had been undone a few buttons to the middle of his chest, reading glasses hanging down from a single breast pocket on his waistcoat. You followed the trail down his lithe frame to his fine silver and black leather belt, down the lines of immaculately tailored trousers.

Whatever temper that had flared in him melts away just as quickly as it had arrived. After a very long week of going through the motions without you at his side, the ache in his chest that set in with your absence fills with a warm light at the sight of you in your bed. You are finally home.

The intensity of the look you share while he stands in the doorway makes you suddenly aware of how your nipples felt brushing against the fine linen of his filthy shirt as you breathe…and the throbbing sensation between your legs.

“My brave heroine, have you returned from your travels victorious?” He lilts, sauntering over to you.

“Even if we had found the mountains of gold rumored to exist underneath the City, it wouldn’t compare to the treasure that awaits me when I return.”

You capture his face with your hands when he looms over you, drawing him to stand at the edge of the bed. You shift your hips and move your legs so that the insides of your knees are touching the finely woven and expensive wool of his trousers.

“Clever little thing, using my own honeyed words against me.”

When your lips meet his, it is so perfect, so sweet that it tugs the strings of your heart. You pull away momentarily before slanting your mouths hungrily against each other. A half-lidded, lusty gaze from him and a ragged breath from you snap you both together like two ends of a magnet.

Your tongues glide against each other in concert as you kiss deeply, devouring each other now that you have broken your fast. You catch his tongue in your mouth and suck on it like you would his cock, eliciting an obscene groan that vibrates in the back of his throat.

He reaches up to pinch your nipples through his shirt, disarming you as you squeal and pull away. Dragging your bottom lip between his teeth, he chuckles at the filthy moan it draws out from you.

He pauses, his expression flattening as he sniffs the fingers that clutch his face. Suspicious eyes point downward at your uncovered lap, focusing on the sheen that coats the inside of your thighs in a vertical line. His pointed ears perk up and you sharply inhale as he nips the finger that had been inside of you minutes ago.

“Well, well. Couldn’t wait until I returned home? You naughty girl,” he grits out, squeezing your hands that rest on the side of his face. You clench again at his scolding, maneuvering your legs to rest inside of his to hide the rest of the evidence, pressing your knees tightly together.

“Perhaps I wanted to be ready for you when you returned home,” you purr out, surging forward to take his lower lip in between your teeth. Your front teeth clack together as he pulls away from you, straightening up with a dark, throaty chuckle.

“You’re a terrible liar, darling,” he turns away to drape the fine, obsidian silk of his magistrate robes over the same dressing bench you had found his perfumed and discarded shirt. Next, he removes his waistcoat in a similar fashion, placing his reading glasses with care on the bedside table next to you.

“While I am grateful that you never developed the skill for deception, you seem to have forgotten how well I know your particular brand of foolishness,” he takes the cufflinks out of his sleeves and rolls them up, tugging at the ends to ensure they are secured. You bite your lip and lean back on your hands in anticipation of what’s to follow. He has you trained like a pet, needy and eager for his touch.

“It seems a reminder is in order,” Astarion breathes out, running both his hands up your knees, over the tops of your thighs. He grasps the crest of your hips, a perfect handle for him to guide and manipulate your movements.

He revels in seeing you like this, desperate for his touch. You gasp out in surprise when he digs his fingers in, yanking you forward towards him.

“Have you forgotten how we would rip the armor off each other after battle back in our adventuring days? How we could barely make it upstairs at the inn or into our tents after a long day on the road?” He kneels down in front of you while he issues the reminder. You match his eye level as he speaks and lean back on your arms, watching Astarion slowly pry your legs apart.

“After the very last job we completed together you blamed the adrenaline rush that consumed you for your voracious appetite, almost stroking me to completion under the table at the Elfsong,” He kisses a line up your thighs, his lips lingering on you as he moves closer towards your drenched core.

“What can I say? I’m cursed to put my hands on everything. If I remember correctly, your hand was also up my skirt, doing the same thing- hah! That was a good night. My favorite part was when you fucked me in the alley later against the walls of the tavern.”

He pauses at your recollections, his face having reached the apex between your thighs. You crane your head up to see his eyes peeking above the crest of your sex, half-lidded and cloudy with lust.

“Cursed to put your hands on everything, you say?” Astarion rumbles out, gently moving your legs wider as he presses his lips to the corner of the inside of your thighs.

“Could you be a good girl for me and keep your hands to yourself while I pleasure you?”

You felt his warm tongue then, lapping and sucking along your tender flesh. Throwing your head back, you gasp at the sensation, rolling your hips forward. He suddenly withdraws his mouth with a pop, giving you a wicked look before languidly running the flat of his tongue against your slick, soaked outer lips.

Your wandering hands that had begun to card through his silver curls tense and freeze above him while he languidly licks up and down your center, the sensation driving you mad.

You need more.

Grasping the back of his head, you make an attempt to mash your engorged clit against his nose with a sudden upwards thrust of your hips, whining in desperation when you feel the sudden loss of him pull back from you.

“Ah-ah, what did I say, little love?” he tuts, delivering a single, punishing flick of his middle finger to your clit.

The only response he receives is you sobbing out his name, your back arching with the pain and pleasure of his correction. He leans on his elbow on the side of the bed and looks up at you expectantly with a raised eyebrow.

“Delicious as that was, I believe I am still owed a different reply,” he repeats the motion and you throw your head back, keening as you undulate your back against now rumpled bedsheets.

“Hells, Astarion, it’s not like I’m on trial,” you complain breathlessly. He perks up suddenly and rests a hand underneath his chin, the other drawing lazy circles on your hip, a villainous twinkle in his eye as he regards you with bemusement.

Uh oh.

“Now there’s an idea, love,” he drawls out, drumming his fingers on the crest of your hip. The tapping of his fingers unexpectedly feels good…really good. The percussion elicits a small roll upwards from your hips to meet them.

“...There’s an idea indeed. But we can’t have you showing up to your court date still filthy from the road, can we? In the tub you go, up you pop,” he orders, holding his hands out to you.

Once you are sitting on the bed, arms raised above your head, he lets go suddenly. The motion leaves you confused until you feel the barest touch of his fingers tracing up your sides. He collects the edges of his rumpled shirt, raising it above your head. Hastily throwing it aside, his hands return to cup your full and aching breasts. Thumbs draw lazy circles around your pert nipples, you hear him hum in appreciation when they pebble and harden with his touch.

“Can you stand up for me, beautiful?” You sat forward, feeling only a little unsteady on your feet from the orgasm that you were so recently denied as you rise.

Your mouth opens in surprise when Astarion sweeps you up in his arms. He carries you to the tiled bathing room, setting you down in the tub while he activates the enchantments that fill it with rapidly with warm water.

He wastes no time unbuttoning his shirt, peeling it slowly from his chest. You watch him make quick work of removing his clothing with practiced ease. He enters the waters of the bathing tub with you in a fluid motion, denying your hungry gaze the view of his naked form that it so desperately craves.

He takes a sponge sitting on a built-in ledge on the wall and soaks it in the water, ringing it out. He swipes it sensually up the side of your breasts, slowly down your neck. Maneuvering you to face away from him, you gasp out as he perches your slippery sex upon on his thigh. The sponge goes down below the water and you chase your pleasure rutting along him while he brushes in long strokes up and down your abdomen, to the bottom of your breasts, gently kissing the side of your neck.

You’re an absolute mess. You grasp the edge of the tub, head thrown back against Astarion’s shoulder in ecstasy, breasts bobbing up toward the surface of the water.

“Please, please Astarion…” you gasp out, a pressure building in your core as you rock along the alabaster expanse of his thigh, your legs spreading wider underneath the water.

“Please what, darling? Use your words,” He licks a line from your neck, up to your sensitive ears, nipping and sucking along the cartilage. You cry out softly at the sensation, squirming in his lap.

“I need you inside me…please,”

Astarion presses a kiss to your shoulder and looks around the would be peaceful and quiet bathing room. Lazy rays of the mid-day sunlight stream in through the sheer window treatments that illuminated the tiled and grouted surfaces of the floors and walls. At this time of day, he would be going through cases and preparing notes to bring with him to his next session at the beginning of the next tenday.

Seizing the opportunity his pause brings, you grasp his hand in yours, plunging it down below the water, the destination between your legs.

You hear a knowing chuckle behind you when he slips free of your grasp with an effortless rotation of his wrist. He encircles you with strong arms, nimble fingers pinching both of your nipples tightly. He smiles devilishly as you moan and writhe against him. Now that you’re cleaned up, it’s time to get dirty again.

“Mrs. Ancunin. As it stands, you are being accused of pleasuring yourself while you are filthy on our freshly cleaned sheets. How do you plead?” He practically growls out the last few words, the change in timbre sending a shiver up your spine.

“Ah! Not guilty…”

Astarion bites a sensitive spot on the side of your neck that he knows drives you absolutely insane. He flicks his tongue over your skin, delighting in your sobs of frustration.

“Not guilty your…?” he asks in between swipes of his tongue.

“Your honor” you gasp out, gripping the seat of the tub beneath the water with white knuckles.

“Present your proof to the court.” He nips at the crook of your neck.

“I was…uhm…technically ‘resting’ when you got home. I didn’t know the sheets were freshly changed. And…I almost stood on my own just now without falling down…so if it’s all the same to you-” you lift your hips and angle them so that you are almost successful at impaling yourself on his twitching cock. He catches you at the waist, pressing his forehead against your shoulder.

“Wicked thing. Are you ready for your verdict?” He tuts, lowering you just enough so that your slick and throbbing entrance is barely grazing along the tip of his penis.

“Yes, your honor,” you gasp, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

“On the count of pleasuring yourself while you are filthy, I find you guilty.” He whips you around to face him and hungrily claims your lips, still holding you above him. He moans greedily in to your mouth as you try to grind down on him again, he’s not sure how much longer he can resist you. You're so eager, so responsive, and all his.

You break the kiss by successfully dragging your teeth over his lower lip.

“And my sentence, your honor?”

He releases your waist.

“Ride me.”

You both groan out and curse in mutual relief as you plunge down on his length. Your walls are already beginning to tighten around him, pulsating with the lewd sounds that you both make, echoing off the tiled walls of the bathing room. Astarion growls at the sight of your breasts that slap against the surface of the water and the feeling of your walls milking his cock.

He grabs your ass and yanks you forward, positioning you over him that his mouth is on your breast, licking and sucking your sensitive nub. He slams up into you, moving your hips up and down on him, guiding himself deeper. You feel the rumble of his ecstasy bring you closer to your peak as you sob out with pleasure at the change of movement and pace.

“Gods, Astarion I’m so close,” you’re so perfect, so tight around him-

“Then let go, my sweet.”

The spasming of your walls against him send him over the edge with you. His eyes roll to the back of his head, moaning your name in euphoric relief. The profane noises of his release, sensation of his warm seed shooting into you, his cock spasming inside of you brings you to the peak again.

“I can’t stop, Astarion, I can’t…ahhhh!”

A second wave crashes through you. He continues to fuck you through your drawn out orgasm, marveling at how beautiful you are unraveling in his arms. Slowing the pace he kisses you again, savoring the taste of you as your hips gradually slow down and lift off of him.

Giving him a satisfied sigh, you nuzzle your forehead into his neck.

“And they both went to horny jail and lived happily ever after.”

“Technically, it would be prison. Jail is for holding the accused prior to sentencing my love,” You grumble and nip his ear in irritation at the reminder.

Astarion laughs softly, kissing the side of your flushed and sweaty face.

“What do you say we dry off and take this to the other room? I’d like to request a hearing to negotiate an early…release,” you nip and suck your way along the line of his pointed ears, eliciting a new series of debauched noises from his lips.

“You’re insatiable,” he says with a smile, throwing his head back in bliss.

He wraps your legs around his waist, supporting your back with his strong, lean arms as he stands the two of you up. You watch the water drain away with his utterance of the correct enchantments under his breath.

“Early release is only granted for good behavior, prisoner- which you haven’t demonstrated since you arrived home. I hope you’re ready for your punishment.”

#astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #magistrate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction

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johnwickb1tsch · 12 hours

Text

THE DEVILS' TRIANGLE

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

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

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

ALL CHAPTERS

PART 9

Johnwickb1tsch:

Wick could have been an asshole about buying a brand new kitchen, sundries included–but instead he merely shrugs off Constantine's hostile question. "Seemed like the least I could do."

Constantine glares, but lets it go, begrudgingly sitting down to a delectable meal cooked by the man he knows, deep down, that you've never been able to forget.

At Tex's midday administering of magical medicine, he takes your hand after you finish, refusing to let go. "Set with me a while, Rattlesnake." He pats the couch, on which there is no room unless you were to sit in his lap–undoubtedly his hope.

With a sigh and a knowing smirk you settle back in your chair. Your eyes are drawn to the burn upon his chest. He will carry that mark for the rest of his life, even if the magic is lifted.

You think on what Papa Midnite said to Constantine. "Take some big feeling..."

It kind of floors you, to think of the energy it took for Constantine to conjure that working out of thin air.

For you.

You told him a little bit about the boys. How they hurt you–and, how they saved your life. How you loved them, and how they destroyed you in their abandonment. No matter how you framed it, Constantine blamed them for the bullet wound forever seared in your side.

However, it wasn’t so simple as that.

"Whacha thinking, baby girl?"

You just shake your head with a tired smile. "Nothing important."

"Hmm. You gonna make me guess? Alright. You're thinkin'...bout that time in Mexico it was just you an me and the stars, out by the pool in our birthday suits."

You snort–quite against your will, it turns into a giggle.

"No..."

"Uh huh. You’re missin' my wicked tongue up between your thighs. I know that look."

"That's enough of that," you say, trying to stand. But he has your hand, and he tugs you so that you fall down to sit on the edge of the couch–and half on him. Your faces hover just centimeters away. You watch with horror a he tries to lean in, capitalizing on the opportunity. By the skin of your teeth, your heart in your throat, you just barely manage to turn your head.

"Didn't you miss me, rattlesnake?" he asks, his deep voice all sultry and low just wrecking you to the bone.

You dare reach up to caress his cheek with the blade of your thumb. "Of course I did. But there’s no going back, Tex. Maybe...that time is behind us." Just saying it hurts like a knife between the ribs, but you go on, “Maybe you and John did the right thing, letting me go.”

He just narrows his dark eyes at hearing that. You hate the way it gives you such a thrill, to the base of your spine, and lower still. “I thought you were mad about that? Hell, I’m still mad about that. I miss you so much I can hardly think straight. There’s just…” He frowns while he says it, but you know it’s just because he’d literally rather take a bullet than talk about his feelings. His grip on your hand tightens; he glares down at your silver rings like they owe him money. “There ain’t no point to anything, when you’re gone. Do you know what I mean?”

You close your eyes; for a moment you feel as though the floor has dropped out from under you, because you know exactly what he means. You lived it for months after they booted you, drifting from country to country, an empty husk of a woman, a gaping black hole where your heart used to be. Only after moving to LA, thinking about going back to school, and meeting Constantine, did your life start to feel like it had some meaning again.

“Yeah. I know what you mean,” you answer quietly. “But how did you think this would go? You’d knock on my door, and I’d just uproot my whole life for you again?”

“Maybe?” The confusion on his handsome face is almost cute. You realize he really did think it would be that easy, and you snort, looking away to a framed Tibetan Thangka painting on the wall. This man. As ever, you’re torn between kissing him and killing him. You have to keep reminding yourself that the former option is not even on the table.

“At least give me some credit. I coulda come in with guns blazin' but instead I brought flowers."

“You want credit?”

“Yeah. I’m practically a changed man. And I wouldn’t mind an apology from Wizard Boy either.”

"You've got to be kidding me." The pair on this man never ceases to amaze you.

"We were just having a little bit of friendly fisticuffs, but he fucked me up pretty good. That’s called unnecessary escalation.”

He would know.

"Spare me the macho bullshit. There’s no such thing as friendly fisticuffs. You were going to hurt my boyfriend, and you absolutely deserved what he gave you. You’re lucky he got Midnite to lift it."

Only a beat later do you realize you called Constantine your boyfriend within earshot of everyone, which you never do, because you both hate labels and the word just seems too high school for what you actually are to each other–but there’s no going back now.

“But–”

At last, at last, you are in a position where you don’t have to swallow his gaslighting. “No buts. You can behave yourself, Tex, or you can go. I mean it.”

Maybe drawn by the sound of your raised voice, Constantine chooses that moment to intervene, appearing at the foot of the couch with a magnificent frown.

“Well well, if it ain’t The Boy Who Lived.”

You know he’s just making yet another Harry Potter reference, but considering Constantine’s history, this nickname makes you flinch. Maybe it’s a mistake on your part, but you bristle. “Don’t call him that.”

Constantine, however, betrays nothing, just crossing his arms with that blandly judgy expression. “It’s alright, y/n. He loves childrens’ books–a man has to stick to his reading level.” You don't feel like arguing about the complexity of the later books, so you let the arrow fly.

You lift an eyebrow, side-eyeing Tex. “You do know an awful lot about Harry Potter for a grown ass man your age.”

For possibly the first time ever Tex actually looks sheepish. “Had to read something while I was in the shit.”

Tex never really told you much about his tour of duty in the Middle East. Bradford had intimated that it didn’t end well–but you weren’t exactly keen to take everything that asshole had said with any sort of seriousness. The thought of him holed up in a mud hut reading about Hogwarts kind of pulls at your heartstrings for some ridiculous reason.

“So what you want, Wizard Boy?” demands Tex, insouciantly refusing to let go of your hand, despite you tugging on it.

“I was going to check your chakras for malevolence, but I'm having second thoughts now.”

“Sounds illegal in five states.”

Constantine snorts. “You want me to double check Midnite's handiwork or not? If there's a trace of darkness left it could spread– and you'll be fucked all over again.”

“Not the way I like, I'm guessin’.”

“Probably not. But then again, you seemed to like Desdemona at the club. You want an introduction?” Constantine has a sly look on his handsome face as he asks this. It must be the succubus you'd run off– the thought of Tex in contact with her again makes you vibrate with jealousy. It is sharp, and fierce, and utterly fucking irrational.

You should encourage Tex to find someone else.

Your heart just doesn't agree.

“I'll…leave you two to it,” you say, reluctantly standing to pull away out of Tex's grip.

Only belatedly, after you've retreated to your room, do you realize that maybe Constantine interrupted your tête a tête with Tex for his sake, rather than yours.

***

John Wick whips you all up a beautiful dinner of sauteed meat and vegetables, complimented with a nice bottle of dry red wine that you're sure did not come from Trader Joe's. You play his sous chef, chopping up veggies, and it almost feels like old times in the kitchen, although he never would have given you access to a big sharp knife before. As though you ever would have had the nerve to stab him.

Tex was another matter.

At first you all sit down to share a semi-awkward meal, peppered with halting silences–until the second bottle of wine comes out, and then things flow more smoothly. It starts with Constantine cracking a joke at Tex's expense, which is surprisingly backed by Wick with a witty aside. Tex responds good naturedly, for once, and you just sit back and watch with a smile, a warm glow in your chest that feels too close to bliss to possibly last.

You help Wick with the dishes, drying as he washes because your dish rack is tiny. “You look tired, sweetheart,” he says after the last plate, bending down to kiss your forehead. You forget. You fucking forget that there are two other people there, one of whom is your current lover, and out of longing and pure habit you tilt your head back for the second staggeringly sweet kiss on your lips that always followed.

Only a long beat later do you realize what you've done, with Wick's shining dark eyes looking down on you, missing nothing. You gasp like a scandalized school girl, taking a small step back. “You're right,” you agree. “I am tired. Good night, everyone.” You're such a coward you can't even lift your head to look at any of them, though you can feel their eyes upon you as you scurry away.

Once in the sanctuary of your room you collapse on the bed, clutching the coverlet in your claws for hands, so embarrassed by your slip that you could die. You know that Constantine loves you, even if he’s never outright said it, and honestly probably never will–and this is how you repay him.

You really are a piece of work.

***

After you retreat, a silence falls over the kitchen, the three formidable men eyeing each other like wolves amidst a power struggle, trying to decide who is the weakest link and who is alpha. It’s Constantine who stands without a word, fetching his green glass bottle of Ardbeg single-malt scotch and setting it down in the middle of the table with a thunk. Then he produces three glasses–none matching–and pours out a finger for each.

“Gentlemen.” He looks between the two assassins seated at his table, a part of him flabbergasted as to how he’d even ended up in this situation. Before he met you, if someone told him someday he would find a woman he loved more than the air he breathed, he would have laughed them out of the room.

Not now.

How the mighty are brought low, and pride goeth before a fall, and all that proverbial biblical bullshit that is old as time and yet somehow still applies. Despite all our advances, humans are still essentially the same animal we were when we first left the cave and started walking upright–or when God created Adam out of dirt, whichever you find more believable.

“I believe we find ourselves at an impasse.”

“How you figure?” asks Tex, knocking back his drink and helping himself to another.

“Does being in love with the same woman ring a bell?”

Wick smirks, watching the exchange between the two, sipping his scotch sparingly. He does not contradict Constantine’s assessment, but in his succinct way he drives home the finer point. “More importantly, that woman is in love with all of us.”

The thought pulls something like a growl from deep in Constantine’s chest, but in the end he acknowledges, “Exactly.”

Tex smirks, leaning on his elbows. “Don’t be sore, Wizard Boy. Be grateful we broke her in for you.”

Constantine seems to count to ten under his breath, restraining himself from unleashing a curse on this fucking cowboy again. “You’re gonna have to give me pointers on how you manage not to murder him daily,” he says to Wick.

“I only listen to about half of what he says,” Wick admits with a smirk, a humorous glitter in his dark eyes.

“Good to know. My point is, if I curse you both into the Seventh Circle, it would hurt her. Likewise, if you two were to dig me a shallow grave out in the desert. You hurt her enough the first time. Do you follow?”

Wick nods, grasping Constantine’s train of thought immediately. Tex, however, has to chew on it a little–maybe because he’d hoped, for once, to finally have this girl to himself.

“You’re saying you don’t mind sharin’,” finally says Tex with a shit-eating grin, leaning back in his chair.

“Oh, I mind,” Constantine is sure to clarify. “But it’s up to her, if she wants you or not. If she decides she wants you to go–I will make you go. If she wants you to stay…” He spreads his big hands, as though to say, we’ll figure it out. Somehow.

Tex narrows his eyes, clearly debating if he should pick a fight over the make you go part, or take it as it sits on the table. “And how do you propose we let her know what we decided about this?”

Constantine snorts at that, draining his glass and standing from the table. “That’s your problem, Howdy Doody. Good night–and may the best man win.” The two assassins watch as John Constantine crosses to your bedroom, and practically shuts the door in their faces.

***

You are drifting on the edge of sleep when Constantine crawls into bed with you. You smile as you feel the familiar pattern of the depression in the mattress, and moan with surprise as he covers your mouth with his. You taste the Ardbeg on his tongue, which explains some of his ardor, but not all. The fury of his kisses on your lips and neck pulls an involuntary moan from deep in your lungs, his big hands digging into the flesh of your thigh, pulling you on top of him.

“John…?” Utterly star-struck, you blink down at him, disheveled in your pajama t-shirt and your hair a mess. He reaches up to cup your cheek, dwarfing your face in his large hand, studying you like there will be a test later. He opens his mouth like there’s something he wants to say to you, but he can’t quite get it out, the words stuck in his throat.

You think you know what it is, and your heart warms for it, that tingling thrill filling your chest and spreading outwards. You’re not even mad, that he can’t say it, because you get him. This is not the week you’re going to push him out of his comfort zone, more than you already have. Most of LA would laugh to hear it, but John Constantine has been a veritable fucking saint the past couple of days, and you’re so grateful to him.

“It’s ok,” you say softly, tracing the line of his square jaw. “I know.”

He frowns, almost like he wants to argue, but in the end he just shakes his head and pulls you to him.

You want to apologize for almost kissing John Wick right in fucking front of him–but that sticks in your throat too. You guess you’re both just a little raw tonight.

He peels off your t-shirt greedily as he guides you down. Hungry lips and a teasing tongue find the sensitive tips of your breasts, making you squirm with longing above him. You know you’ve already soaked through the laughable barrier of your panties, and are probably leaving an unsightly stain on his nice (200 dollar, he likes to tell you with a smirk) white shirt–but if the Chinese laundry down the street can get out demon blood stains, what’s a little cum?

You let out a cry of longing as he releases your nipple with a pop; the ache between your thighs is already nearly unbearable, and you can't stop yourself from grinding against his lean torso. You shut your mouth as soon as you open it, conscious of the paper thin walls and the two dangerous men on the other side of them.

“You like that, baby?” he taunts, hooking his fingers in your panties to tug them down.

“You know I do,” you pant.

“Then let me hear you,” he invites with a wicked smirk, shifting down so that you are nearly sitting on his face. You don’t know what was said out there, but you are starting to get the idea that John Constantine is up to something. But before you can even begin to think what to do about it, he pulls you forward with an undeniable grip on your thighs, and his tongue is laving up your slit.

“Fuck.”

This exclamation is not quiet, and neither are the ones after it. You practically shake the walls with your cries when you cum on his tongue, your body rendered into a quivering mess of over-stimulated nerves. He does not grant you mercy, even when you beg him, and by the time he is done with you, you are halfway to your second orgasm.

“Do you want me baby?” he demands, panting from his champion cunnilingus league exertions as he undresses himself. There is a desperation in his tone you’ve never quite heard before, and you have a feeling he’s not just talking about sex.

“I need you,” you tell him, and you mean every word. It wins you every inch of his hard cock buried inside you, and you can’t stop yourself from moaning, as though there is no room for breath in your body when filled with his impressive manhood. He grips you hard enough to bruise, his face buried in the bend of your neck.

He drives himself inside of you, hips pumping with the fury of his need, but he’s prepared you for it. It’s all you can do just to hold on, to the bed, to him, letting him use you exactly the way he wants to, because you know the past couple of days have been anything but easy for him.

When his thumb finds your clit you think you might die from the overwhelming sensation of it. “No,” you beg, somehow smiling through your exasperation. “Please. Mercy.”

He just pays you that impish curl of lips that always seriously makes you question which side he's playing for. “You can take it,” he informs you. “For me?” The way he pouts down at you while simultaneously rearranging your insides should be illegal.

“Fuck,” you swear again, and he grins down at you, knowing he’s got you in the bag. With your ankles around his ears he slows down for you, but still fills you to the absolute brim, working you in just the rhythm he knows you need with the tip of his too-clever thumb. There is a heart wrenching beauty in making love like this. The two of you have reached an understanding of each other's bodies, a point of familiarity in which you just know, and yet somehow each time is better than the last.

It isn't long before you cum on his cock with a ragged scream that you know there’s no way in hell the boys didn’t hear, yet you cannot stop it, you cannot care, because the man inside you has rendered you into a vessel for this mind-bending pleasure and in this moment, you belong completely to him. His hips snap against yours, and soon he follows with your greedy little cunt fluttering around him, spilling himself inside you with a loud groan.

He collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. You revel in the sticky warmth of his seed seeping between your thighs, his heart a furious drumbeat beneath your ear. “Jesus fucking Christ,” is all you can manage to wheeze against the warmth of his chest.

“Right initials,” he pants, pressing lips to your hair. “Wrong guy.”

Thinking you really might have lost your mind, you start to cackle, and you can’t stop until you literally can’t breathe. You do not even have the energy to clean up, falling asleep in the beautiful mess John made of you, and maybe it’s just you, but even in his sleep John Constantine seems to hold you more tightly than he ever has before.

Sweetwolfcupcake:

The first signs of dawn begin to show on the dark sky, timid but consistent in pushing back the darkness previously reigning over the sky when you open your eyes-- blinking lazily as you register your dry lips and slightly open mouth. You feel parched, but the arms wrapped around you feel like a slice of heaven by your side and you are too lazy, too sleepy. You try to ignore it but your throat feels like it would scream for water any minute.

Sighing, you gently remove Constantine's arms from your body, not an easy task though-- his arms are firm vines around you, holding you close with a distinct gentleness that you've seen so often in his eyes when they gaze at you.

After you are finally off the bed without waking up Constantine (you're surprised), you tip-toe out of the room and into the kitchen for a much needed glass of water.

It's quiet, you notice as you gulp down a glass of water. With the overpowering sleepy haze gone, you grow more conscious of the environment.

Such an hour is supposed to be quiet. But there is a severe lack of tranquillity in the quietness--- it's more of a deafening silence. And you do not have a good feeling about this. Emptying the glass, you put it silently aside and turn around to rush return to the safety of---

Your eyes widen as you blink away the reminder of sleepy haze from them at the sight of John Wick's looming form in the kitchen doorway.

lo spettro

Indeed, he is like a ghost who appears right when you least expect it to. Though at the moment, he looks more like a formidable predator-- or maybe it is you who feels threatened like a prey.

Whatever it is, it does not settle easily in your stomach. There's chaos, flipping and swirling in there. All are born out of jarringly conflicted emotions and thoughts you feel simultaneously.

You stand still, eyeing him warily. He isn't dressed in his classic three-piece. In fact, he is in simple trousers a white t-shirt, that bulges at all the right places. No, he isn't dressed to hunt, but he seems very much ready to with the way his eyes are set upon you. You know the stare all too well. The thought brings back memories that are now the source of your heartache and you stiffen again.

"Had a busy night with your plaything?"

Ah, of course...

"He's not a plaything." You snap without a second thought.

John smiles faintly, but there is no softness to it. Instead, it looks sharp and somehow feels bitter as he diminishes the distance between you both in two strides.

"Was he good enough? Better?" He invades your personal space as smoothly as he invades your dreams.

This time though, you are determined not to back down and bend to his will. You stand-- stiff and with your heart hammering-- but you are determined to not let it show.

"Our bedroom is none of your business."

Oh, you know the way his chocolate orbs darken. Your words have ruffled him. He presses closer and you know, you just know that he can feel your heartbeat, but there is nowhere else to go, and you are sandwiched between the counter and him.

"Yeah? That's a pity, thought I could show this boy how it's done."

You glare up at him.

The audacity.

If this is a game of riling you up, he was unfortunately winning. But being away from them and being with Constantine has evolved you in ways you are thankful for. You are not going to bend easily under his games anymore.

Your glare charges into a sardonic smile--

"Oh, don't bother. It is blissful when you don't feel like a disposable toy."

To a degree, even you are surprised at the venom in your voice. But the surprise is overshadowed by the sight of John Wick faltering. You admit, the sadness do not make you happy, but having gained power in the conversation does satisfy you.

"I am exhausted after a long so..."

With that, you slip away from him and walk back to the safety of your bedroom, there is a rush in your steps, and the moment you lock the door from inside, relief floods withing you.

A part of this whole encounter reminds you of your childhood ritual of switching off the lights before running upstairs to the safety of your room-- but as a child, it was just your active imagination, right now, your heart thunders the same way it would as a five-year-old, running from the 'ghosts'.

Constantine calls your name lazily from the bed, eyes half-open and hair dishevelled. There is a certain domesticity in the air and your heart unexpectedly flutters-- not an anxious, thrilled flutter, but one that confirms what you are afraid to admit.

You fear losing this. This sight of Constantine laying so unguarded, so vulnerable and open on the bed. You are afraid to not feel his arms wrapped around you again. You are afraid not to feel his lips on you another morning.

You are afraid to lose him.

You are afraid to be abandoned again.

In your fear, you find courage. The courage to finally acknowledge this fear of losing him, losing what you both share.

Silently, you make your way back to bed, slipping under the covers and back in his waiting arms.

You know Constantine can probably sense the shift in your energy, but he chooses silence. He puts your comfort before his curiosity, his doubts. That makes you snuggle closer to him, to his warmth.

Tammykelly:

Songs to get in ya feels:

Karma by Summer Walker

Stand still by Sabrina Claudio

You lay awake under the silk covers, with Constantine quietly breathing beside you in a deep peaceful slumber. You shift your focus to his pace of breath so you can match your own in hopes to fall into the calmness of the space bubble around you. The limbs of your body are heavy, and yet your mind is ever so awake, having drifted towards conscious awareness of bitterly sweetened memories, rather than much needed sleep. Your eyelids flutter shut, as a yet another frustrated sigh escapes your mouth. The silence of the late hours is mockingly embracing the racing thoughts in your mind and pumping heartbeat, uncomfortable heat continues to fill every particle under your skin, amplified by the feel of rushing bloodstream, as if no concept of rest exists in this moment. A small furry body curls itself closer, next to your side, and your hand slowly reaches to brush its fingers through Baby Killy’s soft fur, more purring gently filling your ears, as you give into what your subconscious can’t seem to stop replaying, guided by the whisper of the shadows.

- a flashback -

You feel a warm breeze rush past you, carrying the salty scent of the Mediterranean coast, disrupting the shattered shadows. A tiny glimpse of sunlight pervades through the thin crack between your eyelashes, your narrowed eyes taking in the sunny serenity of French Riviera that envelops you again in its natural flow and beauty, before you hear a stream of rapid gunshots that only alert a flock of birds, rising from your garden.

You watch a tall man’s broad back stiffen, as he reloads the gun. You lazily get up, not taking your eyes off his powerful muscles moving under the skin, as he takes the position again. You feel your chest contract, breath caught in your throat, as his whole body seems to have become one with the weapon at the highest alert, before all the motion subsides, and he fires more shots at the moving targets.

You’re not sure whether it’s the thumping of your heart, ringing in your ears, bringing rising heatwave to your body, or it’s the sun that collects the multitude of nervous specks across your subconscious, melting them through all the layers onto the surface, forming a deeper shade of blush on your cheeks. He looks majestic, engulfed by sunlight, a gun in his hand, akin to an innate extension of his hunter-like, perhaps, hereditary nature. Your gaze traces the sweat dripping down his skin, as a gentle sigh leaves your lips, making it hard for you to look back up.

You don’t try to make your presence known, the sound of your steps remaining almost entirely silent, for even your slightest movement echoes through his awareness. He turns around before you reach him, his long hair sticking out from under the bandana.

“Princessa”, - his deep voice greets you.

“John”, - you playfully reply, watching his eyes wash over your silhouette, while you take one more step.

“Skuchala po mne [missed me]?”, - his calloused palm makes contact with the exposed skin below your silk bralette, hiding under unbuttoned oversized linen dress shirt. His fingers snake around your waist, urging you to move closer, slightly dipping under the waistband of your linen shorts. A shiver across your skin doesn’t escape his attentive gaze, a smirk quirking the corners of his mouth up. You look into his eyes, as you feel his hand brush against your back gently, the same fingers that were just holding a weapon, now playing a dirty game against you.

“Vsegda [always]”, - you tease back, your irises catching the way John smiles when you stand on your tippy toes to kiss him, as he melts into your lips, meeting you half way. The scales of gentle and sweet is something you’re unable to control anymore, for the tender anxiety in your heart flutters away with the wings of passionate fire that is the reflection of him.

One of your hands finds its place at the back of his neck, pulling him into you, which he eagerly complies to, as if pouring all the adrenaline of the practice shooting onto your tongue. You gently trail your fingers down his spine, as you break away from his devilish lips, a sly smirk that is a mirror of his, appearing on your features when he lifts you up, walking to the tent, and puts you at the edge of a poolside bed that actually looks like it belongs in a bedroom.

You calmly stare into the abyss of his dark eyes, your chest filled with the scent of excitement and your own game that quickly escalates to something entirely else the longer you hold eye contact. A different kind of heat knocks on your heart, opening doors to a more subliminal feeling. The type of warmth produced not by the midday sunlight, but by the golden hour sun, its muted colors appearing the brightest only for a slight sight, before its remnants reveal their beauty along the way of one’s attention.

His eyebrows twitch, while his eyes search yours.

“Opasnaya igra, malyshka [it’s a dangerous game, babygirl]”, - John says in a raspy voice, seeing the way you let him read you, akin to an open book with no secrets.

“Rasve ya dolzhna boyatsa [why, should I be afraid?” - your hand grazes his cheek, as a feeling that is bigger than your heart settles down in your chest, upon relishing the way he’s sitting in front of you on his knees, looking up at you, as if you’re God’s greatest creation. The fear and sense of uncertainty long forsaken in the tangled forest of what’s left behind.

“No”, - he tells you, his hands on your thighs, “if that’s what you wish for”. A moment passes in between the eternity that stretches across your souls.

“I don’t think I’ve ever hugged you, have I?”, you tell him, suddenly, his fingers freeze in their place. John’s eyes go blank for a split second, before another emotion replaces it, something deep and so raw, your heart almost explodes. An emotion that is swept away by the ever flowing current when his irises go back to that same deep shade of darkness that is the palette of his whirlpool.

“Come here”, you tell him, your hand gently tugging at him. A shallow breath of his doesn’t dissolve away unnoticed, as you get up and switch positions, him - sitting on the bed, you - standing in between his legs, holding his face and stroking his sharp cheekbones. There’s no sense of reality anymore, just his black chocolate eyes, looking up with the devotion of a man found. Time stood still, its heartbeat paving the way just for you two.

You feel him slowly moving closer, as if testing the limits of his own game of chess, before he nuzzles into you. You wrap your arms around him, patting him with all the gentle love you can master, as if not to break a wounded child. Gradually, you sense his calmness unravel itself when his body melts into yours, drinking every bit of peace that you generously get to offer.

A tear rolls down your cheek, the space around you collapsing on itself and blossoming into an eternal tangible softness that revolves around you and John.

John sighs, pulling you closer, letting every piece of your ethereal gentleness and love that is the reflection of you seep into him, beyond the subliminal, into the deepest infinity of his oblivion that is the code of his own sense of self.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

You wake up with a startled gasp, giving Killy the same little fright. She runs away, bells dangling at her neck, the sound fading underneath the bed where she hides from you.

“Killy,” you groan, “I’m sorry, come back.” You wish you could actually tell her in some way you didn’t mean to scare the shit out of her, but it’s too late. And Constantine is gone, too. There’s a little note on the stand. Something about having to run out for a while on a job.

It’s around noon. Your black out curtains can’t contain all of the leaking sunshine, so you decide to follow that biological clock that runs deep and get up. John isn’t here, either, and Tex is snoring on the couch.

“Tex,” you whisper, nudging him a little bit.

His groggy voice sends a pang of reminiscent longing through you. “Hey, honeypie.” He fades out a little bit, and you have to tug on his arm. “You’re snoring,” you tell him, trying to get another pillow under his head to elevate him. “You don’t snore. Sit up a little bit.” You’re worried that he’s not getting proper oxygen while he’s sleeping because of his recent brush with death, so you use most of your weight and a little bit of his to sit him up and lessen the deep rattle of his throat.

“C’mon,” he lays a big arm around your shoulders, tugging your upper torso down against him. “Lay with daddy, huh?”

You push against him. “Tex, you freaking weirdo, lemme go.” The temptation is definitely there, to crawl on top of him and snuggle in, but you’ve already committed to waking up and doing something on this lazy weekend day, so you squirm out of his heavy grip.

He goes back to sleep with a big, satisfied smile on his face. You resist, with all your might, leaning down to kiss his cheek. Adorable fucking idiot.

You make scrambled eggs, plate some for Tex, and leave them in the fridge for when he wakes up. Then, you get a piece of paper, write SCRAMBLED EGGS on it in big letters, and set it on his now peacefully rising chest.

It’s beautiful out here today, sunny with a tropic, warm breeze that reminds you of beachy days with John and Tex. Although the beach is about 30 minutes away by bus, you hop on with a little bag in tow, sporting cute cotton capris and a flowy tank top over your swim suit.

You spend a few hours at the beach, walking up and down the sand, looking at shells, playing in waves and watching the surfers board out past the break. There’s a little food and drink stand nearby, and you packed plenty of sunscreen, so you can stay out as long as you like.

You enjoy this as long as you can, because you have classes coming up and know you won’t get the free time again until next weekend.

You feel free-untethered. Able to go anywhere and do anything without anyone holding you down. There was such a long time, where you didn’t have that freedom. Over half your life, probably, between childhood and witness protection, where you were trapped. And, now that you have a taste of independence, you’ll never stop injecting it. Of course, with this freedom comes a little emptiness, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. You’ve been lonely before, you’ll be lonely again.

Maybe that’s an absurd thought, when three men are waiting for you at home, and for a minute you feel terribly, achingly guilty about wanting freedom and love, protection, shelter-all at the same time. Sometimes women don’t get any of that let alone one. But then, that’s bullshit, isn’t it? The notion that you have to settle and compromise just because you’re a girl. Maybe you want all three of them-no, not maybe. You do want all three, and your independence. And maybe if testosterone wasn’t such a heavy drug, you could mention that to them. But you can already just see John strangling Constantine with his bare hands and Constantine burning John alive if you even dare to mention them sharing you.

Plus, would you even be able to handle all three of them? John and Constantine themselves are insatiable; Constantine, fueled by ancient magic. John, fueled with physical endurance. Tex would be simpler to please, but he’s a wild card of his own.

A group of surfers ride a wave in to shore, and you watch curiously-maybe even a little bit enviously-as they laugh and joke and splash each other in the pink sinking dawn of the day. One of them-tall, broad shouldered, bronze, the god Poseidon himself rising from the frothy ocean bank-makes eye contact with you and you look away quickly, a hot flush that’s not from the late sun flooding your skin.

“Y/n?” You look to the sound, and see a familiar face among the group of ocean dwellers.

Katrina gives you a little wave while she climbs out of one. You tip your chin at her. “Hey, Trine.” She’s one of your classmates, a good friend and study partner. You had no idea that she surfed.

She introduces you to her little group of friends, and one in particular’s name you know you won’t forget. His grin is stark white against beautiful, salt crusted skin when he takes your hand in his bigger one, warm despite the cool water he just rose from, and shakes it. “I’m Johnny.”

The voice. The voice is even too similar for it not to raise every hair on your body.

“Hey, we were just gonna go to Bodhi’s house for a party. Wanna come?” Trina pulls you from Johnny, giving you a strange, knowing look. You were absolutely entranced by him, staring way too much, still holding onto his hand, so you understand why she’s a little suspicious.

“Do I know you?” Johnny asks, bringing you back to him.

“Don’t think so,” you say, feeling like you’re absolutely lying.

Now everyone absolutely notices this strange tension between the two of you, and they seem delighted by it. Bodhi, you think his name is, grabs Johnny’s shoulder and shakes him a little. “Utah, you dog. Close your jaw.”

“Seriously, Johnny, stare a little longer,” Trine grumbles.

“Sorry,” he tells you sheepishly.

“Same,” you reply.

“So, you wanna come?” He asks, motioning to the group. “To the party?”

“I would, but I have to take care of something.”

You propel yourself through the darkening LA streets, the bus system, the crowds of people, the bustle of the city. Keep your eyes ahead, focused, goal driven. The big Bouncer in front of Midnite’s is the only thing that stands in your way to the inner club.

He holds up a card, prompting you. Fuck. You have never come here without John. Probably because he forbid it, but that’s beside the point. You have no idea what to say, so you just do what you’re best at and guess. “Rabbit?”

His facial expression reads “are you fucking kidding me?” All he says is “no.”

“Please. I need to see Midnite. It’s about John Constantine.”

He eyes you for a long while, and then motions for you to sit on the bench in the lobby.

•

“How’s my favorite girl?” Midnite takes a seat beside you. “What kinda shit did Constantine get into this time?”

“it’s actually my shit.”

He laughs. “Tell me about it.”

“No, I mean, really, I think there’s something strange happening, Papa. Everywhere I go, doesn’t matter how far, I see this… guy.”

“You have a spirit following you?” He asks, scanning your body with an open palm, tilting your chin this and that way.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what it is-what he is, but there’s many of them. They all look the same.”

“The same? I’m confused, y/n.”

“They all look like… John Constantine.”

•

“Tex, wake up.” John kicks the couch lightly, alerting the snoring Tex.

“What the fuck.” Tex groans.

“Where’s y/n?”

Constantine has tried to call you ten times, texted you at least twice as much, and still no answer. He’s pacing through the kitchen, hand in his hair, debating on whether or not he should tear down LA to find you. You’re never gone this long, you always keep him updated. This isn’t like you.

He walks into the living room, where Tex and John are looking at the note you left alerting Tex to breakfast.

“You just let her go?” Wick demands of Tex, snatching the slice of paper and tearing it in the process. “When did she leave?”

“Fuck, I didn’t think we were dictating her life anymore,” Tex replies, “she came out here once… I think. It was daylight. I was sleepin. Fuck.”

“She always comes home,” Constantine says, more to himself than the two other men. “It’s almost one AM. We have to find her.”

“Tex, are you able to drive?” Wick asks.

“Yeah.. yeah. I’m good,” Tex nods.

“Take the car, go to her school, her bank, her favorite restaurant. Constantine?” Wick turns to address the still pacing man. “Are you able to try and locate her with some kind of magic?”

“The fuck you think I’m trying to do?” Constantine mumbles, eyes on the floor, hand in his hair, damp sweat gathering on his tshirt.

“Keep doing it. I’m going to look on foot.”

•

Maybe it was a bad idea, to drink with Midnite. Not because of him. The morally grey, powerful voodoo master has never been anything but good to you despite his wavering tolerance for Constantine, and he stays by your side diligently while you both sip on steaming, sweetened cocktails.

No, it’s a bad idea because of the shady characters lurking around you and making you feel a little like you just stepped into Mickey’s House of Villians. The lady with purple, slithery tentacles attached to her just seals the deal on that.

Midnite flips over your other divination card, the gold foils of it catching a rogue neon light and flashing bright in your eyes, before you see what it holds; 10 of spiders. “Something is tightly attached to you, something that draws dark energy. I could see it when we first met, you know. Just like the curse on Texs’ chest made him vulnerable to the wicked dark, you have naturally.”

“I’m so confused. Why?” Your words come out a little slurred, and you realize you’ve been hitting the tap too hard. This is your fifth… fourth cocktail? You’re not sure anymore. “Am I in danger?”

He looks at you with a bit of pity in his fathomless dark eyes, like he doesn’t know what to do for you. Like you’re fucked. “Always.”

Before he can elaborate, give you a warning or message, something, a heavy commotion picks up at the front entrance. Glass smashing, screaming, pounding on something metal and floppy. Midnite sighs and puts his hand on your shoulder. “Stay here. I have to deal with this.”

You ask the bartender for a glass of water to help nurse and coat the alcohol sloshing inside of you and making you pleasantly numb and prickly, and try to ignore the other patrons of the club. Kind of hard when one of them, one you very well recognize, takes the stool beside you.

“Where’s your tall friend?” The succubus asks, those bleach pink eyes doing strange, unearthly things in their sockets; changing shape, reflecting colors that usually don’t exist, sliding from side to side rapidly.

“He’s taken,” you tell her, not bothering to hide the scowl on your face.

“Really?” She asks, voice unnaturally low and seductive, titling her head. “Because I could feel the desperation on him from a league away. Most taken men with that kind of need aren’t satisfied at all.”

“I’m not entertaining this conversation,” you tell her. You remember all the anger you felt toward her after she tried to pull Tex away, and wonder where it is now that you need it. Instead, there is a dull, needy, perplexing throb beginning in your lower belly. It’s a strange way to feel arousal, but unmistakable nonetheless. Usually, all libidinous feelings begin in your brain and trickle downward, but this feeling is severed from your mind, spreading through only your lower body and making you twitch and writhe in the seat.

She grins with sharp little bone white teeth. “Interesting.”

You try and open your mouth, tell her to fuck off, but she reaches over and touches your cheek, and any words you could have said die in your throat.

Replacing speech and sense and sight, is a burly heat that rips through you. A desire like you’ve never felt. A claw-your-skin-off, teeth clenching need to be fucked. Debauched. Ruined.

An inner beast guides your way, now, and she’s hungry for cock. Luckily, there’s some place you can get it. Unluckily, it’s a few bus rides away. And you can’t fucking last that long, that’s for sure.

John Wick doesn’t stop you. Maybe it’s the vicious arousal leaking off you that infects him, too. Or maybe it’s because he missed you, needed you that bad. Either way, he’s kissing you back, picking you up, walking you toward the nearest private place to fuck in, hopefully….

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You stand up, make for the door, and run into something solid and familiar and warm. Just seeing his angled face make your clit tighten painfully, your cunt flutter around nothing. You jump him. He can fucking take it, and he does, handling you like a champ while you claw up his body and latch onto his mouth with your own.

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