#(at least i think this was wicked will rise

[theforbiddentower]

The witch crooked a finger at Ozma. "Come to dear old Mombi," she cooed sweetly. When Ozma kept her distance, Mombi rolled her eyes. "Bring the little darling over here," she snapped.

I gingerly took the reluctant princess's hand, eyeing Mombi warily. Ozma didnt look pleased, but she didnt resist.

"You're not going to hurt her, are you?" I asked.

"No, no, no. We need her," Mombi said, looking Ozma up and down wolfishly. "As stupid as she looks, there's power in there. Somewhere. She's a fairy, you know. She's connected to Oz's lifeblood in a way that none of the rest of us ever could be. If anyone can find the Rainbow Citadel, its her. Its magic, she's magic, its the way these things work. She just has to want to find it."

"Yeah, goodluck with that," I said. "I dont think Ozma wants anything. Except maybe to play patty-cake."

Mombi ignored me and placed her hands on Ozma's cheeks. Ozma looked like she was going to run away, but the witch held her firm. "Don't be afraid," she said. "I'm just an old woman. Wouldn't hurt a fly, would I?"

Mombi stared deep into Ozma's eyes and bit her lip in a look of mild concentration. A small, purple dot of light began to form in the centre of the witches forehead. Mombi plucked it off like she was removing a piece of dirt and placed it in her palm, closing her fist around it.

"Just hold still and close your eyes, darling." As if in a trance, Ozma obeyed.

I watched the whole scene with a slightly sick feeling in my stomach. "Ozma's shielded from most magic," Mombi explained nonchalantly. "But when you're dumb as a brick like she is, certain spells can get through well enough."

She opened her hand, revealing that the pinprick of energy had taken the form of a glowing indigo spider the size of a nickel. She plucked its wriggling body up and placed it on Ozma's temple, where it sat for a second and then crawled down, across her cheekbone and onto her earlobe, finally skittering into her ear canal and dissapearing.

"Yuck," I shuddered.

"Oh, dont be a ninny," Mombi scoffed. "It's just a little spell of intention. She won't even feel it. Barely does anything except give her a little push in the right direction. Think of it like this: if I whispered I want doughnuts in your ear while you were asleep, you'd wake up craving doughnuts, isnt that so? This isn't much different, except that I'm too old a woman to stay up all night muttering in Ozma's ear, especially with those enormous flower earmuffs she loves to wear."

- The Wicked Will Rise, Danielle Paige

[titaswrld]

seventy-six percent

description: your boyfriend hasn’t fucked you in weeks and you’re tired of it, your best friend fred helps you get laid!

paring: theodore nott x fem! reader fred weasley x reader platonic!

contains: smut! 18+, minors dni, mentions of alcohol, sex, p in v

w.c: 1.1k

|an: came up w this idea last night and i luv luv luv it! hope u guys do too.

“cmon, fred, please? it’s been weeks. i’d do it for you, you know?" you’d said to your best friend, fred weasley, during lunch. it has been weeks since your boyfriend last fucked you. you don’t know why or what’s gone wrong. but you were convinced it was some sick game he was playing. he wouldn’t encourage your sexual behaviors, nor initiate anything, and you were fed up.

although, now that you really think about it, it might’ve been your fault, considering the last pillow talk session you and theo had, you told him jokingly that you’d probably last longer than him without sex.

you lied.

you’re growing desperate. you tried to ease the ache in your lower stomach by attempting to please yourself, but it’s not the same; it’s not him. you can’t put up.

“you’re absolutely nuts if you think i’m going to purposefully make theodore nott jealous. do you want me dead? is that what this is?!” fred exclaimed with a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “you think you know a gal,” he tutted, shaking his head.

you’d pressed your lips into a thin line, reaching into your head to find something that would make fred fold. “i’ll do your homework for a week? two? brew the potions for yours and george’s pranks? "c'mon freddie, be reasonable here.” you’d said with a pout.

“how about covering the cost of my funeral?” he’d deadpanned with a slight smirk. ugh, you’d thought. i guess i’ll have to…

“fine! i’ll do yours and george’s homework for a month so you can work on products. and make sure theo doesn’t do anything rash.” you exclaimed, god, your social life is going to be over, but at least you’ll finally get some dick.

fred’s lips tugged into a wicked grin. "sounds absolutely perfect. see you tonight. pleasure doing business with you, by the way!” he yelled out to you, already walking away, to go grab george and tell him the great news.

you’d sighed, hands holding your head from faceplanting into the hardwood table. it’ll be worth it, you told yourself.

this might, hands down. be the best you’ve ever looked in your life. your low-rise jean mini skirt hugged your hips and thighs perfectly. black long sleeve fitted crop top outlining your breasts and showing just the right amount of stomach, and black knee-high boots covering your calves. you looked to die for.

you do have to admit that you are a little nervous, though. fred and theo are both very unpredictable people. you had just hoped that fred wouldn’t cross the line too much and that theo would do nothing more than drag you up to his dorm and fuck you. considering this is a slytherin party, your chances of this outcome were maybe seventy-six percent?, which is good enough for you!

after overthinking and shuffling through every possible outcome, you finally stepped out of your dorm to meet fred in the common room so you could make your way to the slytherin common room together.

fred took a bow, as if you were queen lizzie herself, and offered you a hand to lead you down the last two steps of the staircase.

“madam?” he’d said in a posh voice, causing you to let out a laugh and take his hand to walk down the last of the steps. as you reached the bottom, he dropped the act and let out a laugh.

“no, but really. you do look good. i’d say there’s a great probability you’re getting laid tonight, with my help especially.” he’d said playfully and nudged you as you both exited the common room together.

“a girl can hope!” you’d whispered, now sneaking around the hallways with him to reach the slytherin common room.

“this is ridiculous!” you whisper-yelled into fred’s ear over the loud music blaring over the common room. you both hadn’t seen theo once tonight, and you and fred have been all over each other all night. getting close, whispering in each other's ears, taking shots together, even dancing together—nothing. the party was now coming to a close, and you still haven’t seen theo.

“i know, you’d think he’d show his face by now, or kick my ass or something" fred responded with his hand placed on the small of your back to get you as close as possible to him, so he could hear you better, of course.

theo had seen everything. he leaned against the wall in front of you covered by dancing bodies. he was alone, smoking cigarette after cigarette, his hand practically crushing the cup full of alcohol he’d had since the party began. he had a sick feeling in his stomach; he couldn’t even try to take a sip of his alcohol; afraid it would give him the courage to stomp over there and beat fred weasley’s ass. he saw everything. the touches, whispers, and dancing. all of it, and now he stood over you, hand on your back, bodies pressed together, whispering into each other's ears over the loud music? that’s enough.

theo stomped his cigarette out, slammed his cup on a nearby table, and made his way over to you and fred.

“you’re coming with me,” he’d said under his breath, grabbing your arm and whisking you away from your friend. shocked, you’d said, and did nothing but let him take you upstairs. you hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell fred bye, but oh well. he’ll be just fine. he did his duty, and you’ll have to do yours too. at least it was a mission accomplished.

“fuck, theo.” you pleaded and moaned against his neck as he pounded into you at a rapid and unforgiving pace, the both of you slick with sweat as you'd been at it for hours.

“you like that? or would you rather have fred’s cock pounding into you like this? huh?” theo growled out as he pulled out, awaiting your response.

“no— no no theo baby please. just you, only you.” you’d babble, hating the feeling of emptiness he’d left you with.

theo plunged his cock back into your wet cunt, continuing his harsh pace and letting out a breathy laugh. “that’s what i thought.”

all you could manage to do was moan and tighten your grip on his shoulders as you both neared your climaxes.

you could feel your brain go absolutely numb as his pace never faltered. you’d managed to breathe out a "theo... im gonna—“

“cum, cara mia. on my cock, baby.” theo said between thrusts, his own release about to reach a close as his hips began to stutter.

“theo!” you’d screamed out as the tightness in your stomach snapped. the yell of his name that escaped your lips, pushing him over the edge as well.

god, now i have double the homework for a month. was your first post-orgasm thought..worth it. was your last as you drifted off to sleep in theos arms.

[amourane]

hate the way you smile

pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader

genre: fluff, angst, comedy, e2l + childhood enemies??

w/c: 4.7k

summary: from the second you met theodore nott you knew that your life would be torturous and that the boy would never leave you alone but maybe forever isn't so bad with theodore nott.

warnings: none just a lot of bickering

a/n: omg this one is a bit long but i finished it!

From the moment that you met Theodore Nott at the bright age of five you knew you would hate him forever. Maybe it was the way he would sneer at you with distaste or the way he would mock you for being a big crybaby whenever he took your toys. All you knew was that you simply loathed his presence.

Your families had been friends and they had initially thought that you and Theo would get along since you were both the same age. What they didn’t expect was the young boy to rip the heads of your dolls and proceed to mock you for crying your heart out. Yet even with all of your constant bickering your families still met up every holiday, bringing the demon child with them to torment your life.

Since that day your childhood was filled with cruel laughter and the mischievous eyes that would watch wherever you went.  At age seven, Theodore Nott found it appropriate to fill your bathtub with toads causing you to shriek out in terror when you opened the bathroom door, and him, to run away with glee at your horrified face. At age nine, he thought it would’ve been funny to surprise you by dumping a bucket load of pumpkin juice all over you and he cackled at your expected screams of anger. What he didn’t expect was for you to retaliate by smashing a tray of cauldron cakes into his face. 

Needless to say the war between you two started way back then and it had continued, the only difference being that now you both were more mature and civilised and there was no room for childish pranks.

“Suck my cock you mangled prat, I hope you trip and fall to your death you insignificant shit goblin!” 

At least so you thought.

You made a move and lunged for Theodore Nott’s throat as anger flared in your eyes. No one paid mind to the scene that was unfolding before them afterall it was a common occurrence for the last six years. 

“You enchanted my hair green!” You shrieked as you shook the brunette violently. “Are you out of your mind Nott? I thought we agreed we wouldn’t mess with each other’s appearances, what happened to that?” 

Theodore simply smirked and you felt your fury bubble inside you. He tilted his head to the right and acted as if he was actually pondering your question. If you could you would have been breathing flames as you felt yourself grow more livid as every second went by. 

“Hmm…I like your hair L/n, really suits the whole vibe you’re going for, don't you think bella?” Theo flashed you a wicked grin as he reached out to twirl a lock of your hair between his fingers. You slapped his hand away.

“And what vibe am I going for Nott? Please enlighten me since you apparently are the one making decisions for me.”

You should’ve just walked away. You really should’ve just cursed him out and gone to Madam Pomfrey for some sort of remedy instead of staying and entertaining whatever shit-faced idea he had come up with. The moment you saw the smug smirk that spread across his face and the dangerous twinkle in his eyes you knew he was going to spew some absolute bullshit. And you were right.

“Well obviously it’s a statement declaring that you’re mine, why else would you dye your hair to match my house?” The Slythering feigned disbelief, clutching his hands to his chest innocently. “But Salazar, I didn’t know you would be so bold about your feelings towards me bella.”

You felt heat rise and settle on your cheeks as you tried to come up with a colourful comeback to wipe the stupid smirk off his face but the words die in your throat. It was against your will but you could feel your face growing hotter as he continued to stare at you with that flirty glint in his eyes. Your brain spluttered to a stop and you scrambled desperately for something to say.

“Fuck you Nott.” You seethed before storming away with your hands balled into fists. You could hear the whispers of students and you could feel their stares as you stomped to the infirmary, determined to find some way to get your hair back to normal. 

Theodore Nott was the biggest pain in the arse you knew and he had never stopped being one. You still remembered when you had received your letter to Hogwarts and he had scoffed at the sight asking why Hogwarts would want a half-wit like you. Needless to say your parents weren’t surprised at the cries that erupted a second later from both you and him.

Throughout your years the two of you had become known for the obvious tension and pure hatred you harboured for each other though it did seem to lean on your side a bit more than it did to his. It had been the same for the first three years, bickering, pranks and whatnot. Then fourth year came and the scrawny boy you once knew had magically grown much taller and his face had lost a lot of the baby fat it once had. All at once Theodore Nott became one of the most sought after boys in Hogwarts and it only made you loathe him more. It made his ego triple in size and it made him much more flirty towards everyone but you seemed to be his number one target. All you wanted to do was to take your wand and puncture that bloated head of his.

Though his appearance changed he still was the boy you knew since you were a child and whenever he smiled you could see the same boyish grin he had way back when he was five. He had always been the same but now he just had a much more pretty face to disguise the fact he was a blithering idiot.

Theo watched as you stormed off, his smile never once leaving his face. He loved to mess with you purely to see the visceral anger that radiated off you every single time. The way you would try to stare him down but the action proved useless as he was much taller allowing him to simply look down smugly. It amused him to see how your reactions never changed. 

Ever since you were five you held the same expressions: whenever you were mildly irritated by him you would chew on your bottom lip, whenever you were pissed your eyes would double in size and you’d look like a fire-breathing dragon, and whenever he made you upset you would stare blankly without a word. He’d only ever made you truly upset once and when seeing your face he knew he would never do it again because even if the two of you bickered and fought he would never hurt you.

“Sometimes I think you’re secretly dating because you should see the way you’re daydreaming hopelessly while staring at L/n’s retreating figure Nott, you look like a bloody imbecile.” Draco slapped Theo’s back startling him out of his own thoughts. He scoffed after realising what his friend was implying.

“Oh Salazar’s balls I think I’m going to regurgitate my breakfast. You’ve gone insane if you even think for a second there’s a chance I fancy that creature.”

Laughter erupted from his friends and they continued to mock and tease him obviously not being mature enough to handle the situation with grace.

“I would rather shag the giant squid than date L/n and I’m sure the feeling is mutual.”

Mattheo hummed to himself and smirked. He placed his arm on Theo’s shoulder. “Well then can I ask her out? She’s real hot and I think she’d be interested.”

“L/n might be stupid Riddle but she wouldn’t ever go out with you or even give you the time of day. So don’t even think about doing it.” And with that he left and his friends exchanged knowing glances before bursting into another fit of laughter at their friend’s own obliviousness.

//

This was so not your day. 

Never in your life had you forgotten to hand in homework yet one silly slip up had cost you to spend your free afternoon in detention. It wasn’t your fault you had mixed up the dates on when the transfiguration homework was due. 

You begrudgingly opened the classroom doors, finding a seat to sit down for the next hour. At least you were able to catch up on some other classes while you were in detention otherwise you thought you would’ve gone mad. You looked around the classroom save for Professor McGonagall who had already greeted you when you walked in there was no one else there. 

It hadn’t even been a minute when the doors burst open to reveal a very tall and very smug Slytherin.

“Mr Nott, glad for you to join us, find a seat please.”

Theo's grin faltered as his eyes locked onto yours, a flicker of confusion dancing across his features before it was swiftly replaced by his trademark smirk. He made his way toward you, closing the distance until there were mere centimetres separating you from him.

“Now L/n, Nott, I have important business to tend to so I assume the both of you are mature enough to sit through this detention. I hope that I don’t hear about any incidents when I am gone.”

It was as if your nightmare had all of a sudden come to life as you watched McGonagall leave the classroom. You tried to protest but it fell upon deaf ears as the professor had already left the room, leaving you stuck with your nemesis.

You whipped your head to face the brunette, irritation flashing in your eyes. Why had he chosen to sit next to you when there were plenty of other seats available? The classroom was far from crowded, yet here he was, invading your personal space with his mere presence

“Why are you sitting next to me Nott?”

“Why can’t I? Do you happen to own every seat in this classroom?” He teased. “I didn’t think you did, so I’m going to sit where I want.”

You grumbled under your breath at his stubbornness, getting up to pack your things. “Fine, but then I’m moving.”

Before you could make your move, Theo reached out and grabbed your arm. “Hey slow down, I have a perfect seat right here.” Your irritation flared at his audacity, and you shot him a scathing glare as he gestured to his lap with a smug smirk. “Why don’t you-”

“Nott, if you seriously propose that I sit in your lap I will hex you to oblivion.”

“Okay!” Theo held his hands up in mock surrender, his expression feigning innocence as he cocked his head to the side, the smirk never once leaving his face. “Stay here, I won’t bother you, I swear.”

You eyed him cautiously, your scepticism evident. You weighed the options before you reluctantly sat back down. “Fine.”

A quiet hush befell the classroom and all that could be heard was the scratching of quills on parchment. That is until you were interrupted by a persistent poking sensation that disrupted your concentration, each jab of the quill more annoying than the last. You clenched your jaw as you tried to ignore Theo but you knew he wouldn’t stop until you gave him attention and there was no way you were giving him the satisfaction of reacting. So he continued to poke and poke and poke. 

His incessant poking finally pushed you over the edge, prompting a sharp hiss of irritation from your lips. "What?" You snapped, unable to contain your frustration any longer.

“What are you doing here?” 

If there was a competition for incompetence Theodore Nott would sure have won first place.

“Detention obviously.”

“Oh you know what I meant, why are you in detention? Did you do something stupid? Wait, you do that all the time I forgot.” You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to roll them right out of your skull. "Tell me, bella," He continued, his voice laced with faux innocence. "I don't bite."

“Forgot my homework.” You reluctantly mumbled under your breath, feeling all too claustrophobic at how close he was to you. “Not that big of a deal.”

“Oh but it is.”

“What does that even mean, Nott?” Your eyes narrowed. Theo’s face twisted into a playful smirk and he was so close that you could practically hear his heart beating.

He chuckled, undeterred by your hostility. "But it's not like you to forget your homework," He teased, leaning in closer. "There must be something distracting you. Perhaps... thoughts of me?"

As if on instinct your hands reached out to push the unbearable boy away from you and you immediately got up at his incredulous words. You saw the way laughter bubbled and slipped from his lips, mocking you which only added more fuel to the evergrowing fire.

"In your dreams, Nott," You retorted, your voice laced with venom as you rose from your seat, your movements quick and determined. "I would sooner volunteer for a Dementor's kiss than waste a single thought on you."

Theo’s smirk only widened and his eyes gleamed with mischief. "Oh, believe me, the feeling is mutual," He quipped, his voice dripping with amusement as he rested his chin on his palms, his gaze never wavering from yours.

You huffed out an angry breath before picking your stuff up and stalking to the opposite end of the classroom. Luckily, he didn’t follow and you were left in peace for the rest of the detention.

//

It had been a week and a half since your detention yet Theodore Nott hadn’t approached you once since. In fact, you hadn’t seen him around school a lot, not that you were paying attention of course. It was just weird. Usually his face would pop up in front of you multiple times a day yet he was nowhere to be found. You had even lingered around the Slytherin table at lunch to see if he would show up but he never did. 

There was this sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. Even though you did despise Theo you had known him since he was a kid and he never was one to skip lessons much less disappear for over a week. Even his Slytherin friends didn’t know where he went.

That is until today. The moment you had walked into the dungeons ready for your Potions lesson you spotted him. There was a part of you that hoped you would see him today, after all he was your Potions partner. But there was something wrong. His face looked gaunt, pale, sapped of life and his eyes were merely blank as he sat unmoving. His usual demeanour was replaced with one of hollow emptiness.

“Where have you been Nott?” No response. You frowned as you looked at him, he seemed to not even hear you. “Nott? Have you suddenly become deaf?”

“It’s none of your business.” He snapped voice obviously laced with malice as the words cut through the air. The sharpness of his tone caught you off guard, a twinge of hurt gnawing at the edges of your consciousness despite the fact you both had said worse to each other.

You chose to ignore the fact that Theo was obviously in a sour mood and sat down beside him, unpacking your things. There was nothing special about the lesson, nothing that you needed to particularly pay attention to. Not that you did since you were too focused on trying to figure out what was wrong with your partner. Theo didn’t look okay, not in the slightest. He seemed exhausted and his sluggish movements proved you correct as he diced the various ingredients. 

You were in the middle of stirring the cauldron when Theo dropped a dandelion root in the mixture causing it to bubble and spit. The concoction spilled onto your hand and you shrieked at the sudden burning sensation that seemed to consume your hand in flames. The sensation is unbearable, a sharp, burning agony that seems to penetrate deep into your very bones. By now the whole class had stopped to look at you not fully registering what had happened. You turned to Theo, tears threatening to fall from your eyes at the pain but he stood there frozen, an expression you couldn’t decipher on his face.

“Theo-”

"Fucking hell, L/n." He spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "Would it kill you to not be such a clumsy moron? You could've hurt me as well. How can you even call yourself a witch?"

His words were sharp and spiteful. Through the many years of knowing Theodore Nott he had never blamed you for something he did. He might have been an incorrigible prick but he would still apologise if he had ever hurt you genuinely. But as you looked at him you couldn’t recognise the cold harsh look he gave you and you bit back your tears. You wouldn’t cry in front of him. 

Despite the fact your hand was in pain you felt something tighten around your chest and it made the air around you feel thick as if you couldn’t breathe. You stood up angrily, opening your mouth to snap back but your vision starts to fade, black spots invade your senses and that was the last thing you remember before you tumbled to the floor.

You woke up a few hours later as you felt the sun shine on your face. You blinked, disorientated, as you tried to get used to your surroundings. The familiar walls of the infirmary materialised and you felt some ease at knowing where you were. Confusion still gnawed at your mind as you struggled to piece together what had happened. How had you ended up in the infirmary? And why did everything feel so hazy, as if viewed through a foggy lens? 

Your gaze drifted to your hand, the source of the searing pain. And there, wrapped in a pristine white bandage, lay the answer to at least one of your questions. The memory flooded back in fragments, disjointed and incomplete.

Theo's careless mistake, the scalding mixture splattering across your skin, the sharp cry of pain that had torn through the air, all of it came rushing back with startling clarity.

“Miss L/n you’re awake!” Madam Pomfrey’s voice cut through your thoughts and you saw the woman make her way towards you hurriedly. “That was a terrible burn you had, lucky I had some burn-healing paste on me otherwise you would have had an ugly scar.”

You were still a bit dazed, trying to piece together how you even managed to make your way here. You distinctively remembered collapsing to the floor but that was where your memory stopped and it refused to give you any more.

“Sorry Madam Pomfrey but do you know how I got here? I really can’t seem to remember.”

“Oh dear.” The nurse frowned at your condition. “Mr Nott brought you here. He’s been here the whole afternoon. He's only just popped to dinner. I'm sure he’ll be back. Merlin, the boy did look worried.”

You resisted the urge to scoff at her words. Theodore Nott, worried. Not a chance. He probably only brought you here because Slughorn insisted, and he couldn't risk getting on the professor's bad side. No, you highly doubted he cared about what had happened to you.

The memory of his harsh words repeated in your head like an echo that refused to go away, a reminder of his indifference to your situation. And yet, despite your efforts to brush it off, a bitter laugh escaped your lips. Why were you even upset? After all, the two of you were experts at hurling mean insults at each other. It was practically a pastime. 

Rather you should have been mad at the fact he was the one who caused you to get this injury anyway. If it wasn’t for his stupid mistake you wouldn’t be in this predicament. Then again, you remembered his movements, how his usual nimble fingers were fumbling the ingredients, how he stared at the pages of his book as though they were in a foreign language. Something wasn’t right.

“You’re awake.”

The words startled you and you spotted the Slytherin boy approaching your bed as his face held the same blank expression as before. He sat down beside you and your eyes narrowed. You shuffled away, not wanting to be near him.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured quietly and the words caught you off guard. “These past few days just haven’t been the best and-”

“That’s your excuse?” You bristled at his pathetic apology, hoping that you had misheard what he had said. “You mess up our potion resulting in me getting hurt and then hurl insults my way trying to blame me for what happened. And you think simply saying ‘I’m sorry’ is enough? Using the excuse of having a few bad days as your way out?”

He stayed silent allowing you to continue.

“Theodore Nott, you always were an idiot.” You spat, the words tinged with disappointment. “But I never expected you to be such a heartless prick.”

As the final syllable fell from your lips, a heavy silence settled over the room, punctuated only by the shallow rise and fall of your breath. You held Theo’s gaze and as you studied him you noticed something you had failed to notice before. The dark circles that marred the skin beneath his eyes, the redness that rimmed their edges. The weariness that had been etched into his features. 

“I went home.” He finally said, breaking the silence with his words. “Father sent a letter saying it was urgent, that I needed to return home at once.”

You felt yourself deflate and your gaze softened. Theo and his father had never been on the best terms and ever since his mother died they drifted apart even more. Suddenly his attitude made sense and you felt the guilt seep into your senses.

“Turns out his urgent matter was that he found himself another potential wife. Some poor woman to endure his torture and he wanted to happily announce it to his son. He burnt all of my mother’s belongings and if I hadn’t stopped him he would’ve gotten rid of her grave as well.” Theo scoffed bitterly and you saw the way he was trying to stop the tears from falling. “That bastard calls himself my father but not once in his life has he ever cared about me.”

A heavy silence enveloped the both of you as you sat not uttering a word. You knew that he had always struggled with the strained relationship with his family. The death of his mother had resulted in Theo being distraught for weeks as he relived the nightmare whenever he closed his eyes. 

“I’m not going back there. I’m never setting foot in that house ever again.”

You placed your hand on his shoulder as you tried to offer some sort of comfort. His eyes locked with yours and you saw how his tears glistened as they fell silently. You felt ropes tighten around your heart and you squeezed his shoulder gently. It had been a long time since you saw Theodore Nott cry. It was a rare sight but that was what made it that much more painful.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You whispered. “I honestly…I’m so sorry Theo. He really doesn’t deserve a son like you. You’re incredible, you know that? You might be irritating and loud and downright infuriating at times but he doesn’t deserve you because you’re amazing Theodore Nott. And, Merlin, if I’m saying that then it must mean a lot because we both know my word is golden.”

You offered him a small smile and your heart warms when you see one tug at his lips too. He looked away for a second and you saw his eyes land on your bandaged hand and he winced.

“I really am sorry for messing up our potion. I didn’t mean what I said, you’re a brilliant witch Y/n, you always have been. I was just being a prat, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s honestly nothing bad. My hand will probably already be back to normal, I heal quickly you know.” You paused as your smile faltered and you chose your next words carefully. “If…if you don’t want to return to your house, you can always go to someone else's.”

Theo chuckled as he shook his head. “No one is going to accept me into their house without turning me into my father.”

“I will.” 

Silence. Theo looked at you, confusion clear on his face but your gaze was strong and he could tell you had meant what you had said. You felt yourself flush at his stare and you realised your hand was still on his shoulder and you quickly removed it.

“Accept you into my house I mean. My parents love you and you know they haven’t been on good terms with your father ever since what happened. We would be more than willing to take you in.” You watched as his face contorted into expressions that you couldn’t formulate. “That is if you promise not to fill my bathtub with toads again.”

Laughter fell from his lips, cascading like a melody. He lifted his hands to wipe away his tears that had been streaking down his face. His eyes no longer held the blank emotionless look but rather a certain warmth that you had missed seeing. Your grin widened upon hearing the sound and you found yourself joining in.

“At least you look pretty-”

Your words were cut off abruptly as Theo leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a sudden and unexpected kiss. You froze, unable to comprehend what exactly was happening as disbelief rippled through your body. His hands found their way at the back of your neck and you feel his thumb caress your cheek tenderly. You were still in shock when he pulled away and the last few words of the sentence you were about to say tumbled out of your mouth.

“-when you cry…”

You blinked as your mind tried to grapple at what had just happened. Theodore Nott had just kissed you. Theodore Nott, the boy you had despised since you were five, had just kissed you. He kissed you. Kissed…you. Immediately, your body erupted into flames and you felt your face flush hot at how close the both of you were.

“Your body temperature has risen extremely quickly.” Theo teased and you felt yourself grow even hotter.

“Shut it.”

“Like you’re actually a human radiator.” He continued undeterred by your glare.

“Nott if you don’t want to lose your head I would advise you to shut up.”

Theo grinned and you felt your heart stutter at the sight. “Oh so now I’m back to being Nott? What happened to Theo?” He said his name in a high pitched croon in an attempt to mock your voice and you smacked the backside of his head which only encouraged his laughter.

“You’re actually going to be the death of me.” You groaned as you slumped back down the bed, pulling the covers over your face as a feeble attempt to hide yourself from the pretty Slytherin.

Theo poked your arm and you peeked out to find him staring at you with a bright grin on his face. 

"Don't worry." He reassured you, his voice light and teasing. "I'll make sure to stay by your side forever and ever, like a blood-sucking parasite."

“How romantic.” You drawled as you rolled your eyes, trying to maintain a facade of annoyance as you retreated under the covers once more.

“Aren’t I just?” 

You ignored Theo’s playful whines for you to let him see your face. Your heart threatened to break out of your chest as you tried to calm yourself down. But even so, you were unable to stop the grin that spread across your face. Maybe, just maybe, forever wouldn't be so bad with Theodore Nott by your side.

[sahkuna]

needed to write a drabble about sukuna being that hot older brother you always look forward to seeing at your best friend’s (yuuji) house... eee!

UPDATE: there’s a FOLLOW UP to this drabble

content warning: f! reader, smut, childhood "friends" with benefits, best friend's brother trope! oh and modern au:]

he’s only a couple years older than you, (by three years, if you want to be exact) and you’ve been acquainted with itadori yuuji's older brother— sukuna— multiple times.

whether it was through seeing him over at the itadori household during high school or being invited out by yuuji to sukuna’s new place a couple years after college— sukuna had always been a lingering presence in your life.

your relationship hadn’t been anything more than exchanging brief pleasantries whenever needed. until things start growing more suggestive as the two of you grew older.

it wasn't planned. the kissing, the meet-ups late at night, him deliberately lingering around when everyone else seems to have left the room. there were too many incidents to recall.

but one thing lead to the next and...

the slapping of skin on skin can be heard throughout his apartment, echoing against the walls of the vacant hallway that leads towards the doorway of sukuna's apartment.

tucked away behind his bedroom door, is quite an obscene scene. with your chest pressed against his mattress and face covered deep into his pillows, there's only so much left for you to do as you stick your ass up to receive the rough pounding from sukuna's thick cock.

the coherent sentences you used to form a few moments prior have slowly turned into a series of whimpers and broken moans all while sukuna has a tight grip on your waist pulling your ass flush against his hips so he can bury himself deep into your sweet cunt— unprotected.

you forgot how this came to be, of who convinced who to dip their toes into the world of sex with each other but you're damn glad that it happened.

"oh god," you blurt out between cries. sukuna's left hand drags down away from your waist, and finds its way toward your clit. "ah—! please, don't stop! that's… so good, so goo—ah!" you just about lose your mind when his fingers tease your sensitive clit in slow, torturous circles.

there's a mean, wicked smile tugging at the corner of sukuna's lips. his brows rise in amusement at how quick you are to fall apart in his hands— quite literally at that, too. "think you can hurry up and finish before your friend comes back?" sukuna asks, tone unwavering despite how his hips thrust into you repeatedly.

ah. your friend. his brother. the fact that he doesn't even bother to address him by name and does it dismissively would have you chiding him to be nice— but you're too far gone to digest what he said.

between the touching and the fullness of his dick pressing and rubbing against the walls of your pussy, you squeeze your eyes shut and wail. "please, please— i think i'm—!" your hand shoots down to hold onto his wrist. but you don't pull it away from you, despite how overstimulated you feel. "shit!"

when sukuna pulls out briefly to rub the head of his cock against your slit, you whine at the loss of him. with shaky hands you press your palms against his mattress, and make a weak attempt to change positions onto your back.

"please, put it back in!" he's definitely gonna make fun of you for begging later. but perhaps a higher power decided to have mercy on you— just this once— because sukuna's back between your thighs and stretching your hole.

fuck him, fuck him, fuck him and his stupid, girthy cock. and the smug ass expression he's probably got on his face right now.

despite that all, you wanted to kiss him. just the thought of it was—

the harsh sound of a fist pounding at his front door tears you from your thoughts. you're about to question who it is until you hear a voice from the other side that you know all too well.

"answer your phone, sukuna!" wait, why's yuuji here? "if you're gonna invite me to your place, at least do it when you don't have some girl over!"

"are you crazy?!" your voice is sharp, incredulity seeps through your tone.

with his dick still submerged in you and his hips rolling at a languid pace tacked with the sound of the gentle plap-ing of his skin against yours, — as if his fucking brother wasn't technically right the fuck there— he offers you a mere shrug. "forgot i invited him over."

and fuck him for being your best friend's older brother.

[eelnoise]

a little rhythm and a wicked feeling (nsfw!)

trafalgar law x fem!reader cw: fingering, slight overstimulation, pussy touching in general, piv sex an: just like w/ the usopp one this is the law one btw. hes a freak i need him wc: 1.1k tagging: @bby-deerling @kaizokuniichan @nina-ya @themushroomofdeath @risenwrites @missmugiwara masterlist | kofi

"Sit still," Law mutters into your shoulder, one hand knuckle-deep in your pussy while the other rustles around on his desk, flipping pages or filing through papers. 

Snug in his lap and locked between his sturdy arms, you try your hardest to keep from wriggling around too much – but with the orgasms he's pulled out of you already, you're almost too sensitive to the touch to avoid twitching with even the slightest of touches.

Law knows your limits, and his fingers slide out of you to touch gently at your pussy for a reprieve. His motions are slow, methodically rubbing and spreading you into a calm push and pull of pleasure and relaxation – he can’t have you totally limp in his arms just yet.

"Hmph," Law grunts, his voice growing a bit hoarse as he rubs at your slit, "Not sure if we have what we need on board," He sighs and reaches over to the multi-page inventory accounts. "Nothing else that's useful for hives, anyway."

"But there are things we can get to help, right?" You quip, forcing stability to your words with varying degrees of success. "Shachi isn't doomed to his fate, surely."

"Not quite, but it's going to take a bit," Law murmurs, his finger slipping back into you with the intention to work you up again, "We'll have to make a stop at a proper apothecary, but I don't think we can get to one for at least few days." Another finger joins the first, stretching you open for his slow, practiced thrusts, "For now, we'll have to manage with what we can get our hands on."

You almost sink your teeth into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and roll your head backward into the crook of his neck. The muffled cry of delirium makes Law smirk to himself, the man fully aware of the affect his work is having on you.

He doesn't need you to talk, of course, but despite everything he's doing, despite everything you're feeling -- Law finds your attempts to chat accordingly with him both humorous and arousing.

"I can count on your perception to assist me next landfall, yes?" Law asks, eager to hear your voice again.

You whimper, nodding with soft grunts and straining breaths; your voice is lost in the symphony of your pleasure. The way his fingers pump in and out of you, spreading you wide, has your hips starting to raise to meet him, riding the lithe digits as they scissor in and out of you.

"Good, good," He approves, pinning your hips down to his lap as his own rise to meet yours, "I'm glad we're on the same page."

Law pulls his fingers from you again, just at the very peak of your impending high. Both of his hand come to your waist as he effortlessly twists you around to face him.

You straddle his thighs, watching as he pulls his cock free from his already loosened pants. He aligns himself with you, the tip of his length teasing up and down your folds before stopping to just barely press himself into you. Unable to resist, you lower yourself onto his him, impaling yourself on him inch by blessed inch. Your body shudders as he fills you up, the tightness of your pussy making Law to groan with satisfaction.

Law leaves you to do the rest as he resumes his work. His arms lock you in at either side, one hand firm on your lower back as you guide yourself down. Your arms snake around his neck and you cradle your head on his shoulder to muffle the sound of your cry when your hips meet fully.

You begin to bounce on his lap, the head of his cock hitting that one spot inside you and making you sob with delight. Law's hand on your lower back slowly drifts up to grip one of your breasts, teasing your nipple between his fingers. The combination of pleasure is enough to send you spiraling into another orgasm, your back arching as you cry out his name, the sensation overwhelming.

Law watches you as you ride him, his eyes hooded with pleasure. He leans forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue thrusting into your mouth as he hungrily devours yours.

He grabs at your hips, holding you steady as his thrusts become more insistent, pumping his cock deeper into you. You're a tight, wet heat that envelopes him, burning any sense he has left away and leaving him unable to preoccupy himself any longer with the endless theories of Shachi's disposition.

As you reach the peak of another orgasm, Law can't help but feel the swell within him, the slick heat of your pussy pulsing around his cock. He bites your lower lip, muffling a groan as he thrusts deep, burying himself as far as he can.

"Shit!" He curses, his hips bucking as he fills you with his seed, the warmth spilling within you. His fingers grip your hips, bruisingly tight, as his orgasm rips through him, causing his cock to pulse and twitch inside you, painting the insides of your pussy with his essence.

He continues to pump into you, his breath hot and ragged against your lips. As the last of his release spills into you, he pulls you onto his lap, cradling you against his chest as he lowers his head to bury his face in your hair.

With a soft chuckle, Law twists his chair around to set you down gently, one hand still tangled in your hair, the other at your waist. "You should clean up get some rest," He says, his thumb rubbing apologetic circles into your flesh. "I need you wide alert to keep Shachi from dying, after all." 

"You know, I might just let you die if you don't take a break from your research," You jest, nudging him with a smile that's not without genuine affection. He grins, his hand still rubbing at your hip, "But I suppose I'll settle for sleep and a proper bath."

You lean in to give him a quick but tender kiss before standing up and making your way off his lap. "Get some rest; I'll be in my cabin if you need me."

Law watches you leave, his smile softening as he turns his attention back to his books, his own exhaustion creeping up on him. He'll need to rest as well, but he can't help but feel some relief at the small bit of progress he's made. Your help, your distraction, has done wonders for his spirits, and the lingering scent of you on his fingers only adds to his satisfaction.

[apocalypse-shuffle]

HOBIE BROWN | SPIDER-PUNK (atsv)

─────────────────

─────────────────

“Brand New Metal” (Hobie Brown & Fem!Reader)

| Hobie helps you pierce your nose.

| SFW, piercing description, needles

| Featuring almost the entirety of my own piercing experience. (Pic source: Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023) movie)

You pull away for what feels like the hundredth time in five minutes and Hobie’s hand moves outta the way even faster, barely a blur of movement before it’s back within his bubble of space.

“C’mon, Mama, I can’t do this if you keep jumpin’ away from me.”

You shift in place where your butt is planted beside the hard water stained sink. Shoulders dropping you rub your hands down your face.

“I know that,” you grumble.

Problem was, knowing barely qualified as a quarter of the issue, and whoever said knowing was half the battle clearly hadn’t been staring down the point of the thickest needle you’d ever seen in person.

You wave your hand to the metal rod with a grimace. “But look at the size of that thing, Hobes. That’s gotta be overkill.”

Hobie’s accent seems to get thicker as he hits you with a deadpan tone, full brows shading his eyes.

“This’s a twenty gauge needle. I’ve seen you ’old your guts inside you and still make time to bash in some fascists, this’s nothin’.”

In response you flip him off but Hobie - perfectly unfazed - only starts twirling the needle around two latex glad fingers.

His own piercings - of which there were plenty - glint off of the dim yellow lighting of his bathroom like a taunt. Or at least it feels like that to you.

“Look, I already told you piercings ain’t some crucial part of the scene, Mama. You don’t have ta do any of this. It’s all just boxes and labels, the lot of it,” Hobie points the blunt side of the needle at you. “And you know I hate labels.”

“Yeah, Hobes, the whole of Camden knows. Besides, I want it cause I think it looks nice not cause of capitalism’s agenda to make us buy shit instead of looking at whatever human right of the day they’re doing away with,” you shrug and Hobie’s mouth twists to the side for a second before he’s shrugging too.

“Great. Point’s been made then. Pick a struggle.”

“Fuck your struggle,” you frown. “It’ll hurt.”

“Hn,” he scoffs and shakes his head. He’s giving you this narrow look like he’d let you keep this back and forth up for the rest of the day without any complaints though. “Fake ones exist for a reason.”

“Fake ones won’t give me the satisfaction of a real piercing though.”

“The lie that we need to feel pain in order to be worthy of livin’ is also capitalistic propaganda, Luv.”

Now it’s your turn to give him a look; face dropping and one brow rising.

Hobie chuckles.

“Fine.” He grins, sharp. “We both know I know exactly what it is you’re sayin’. I just can’t tell if being an accomplice to yer masochism is fair to me.”

“You wouldn’t deny a woman her creative outlet, would you?”

“S’pose not,” Hobie agrees, taking another alcohol swab and disinfecting the needle again for extra measure.

He eyes you up and down and you smile, fluttering your lashes at him and kicking your heels into his cabinet doors. You needed Hobie to be the one to do this. For one, because you were not going to be able to do this yourself, and for two, because he was really the only person you trusted to puncture a literal hole in your body.

You take a deep breath, now if only you could chill the hell out.

Hobie shakes his head, wicks flopping around and knocking into each other languidly.

“Yer one ‘elluva reluctant participant to this for someone agreein’ they’re a masochist,” he nods to the needle while brandishing it like a knife. He knows you're full of shit, but he’s not about to make your decision for you. “You gotta stop flinching every time light just glints off the needle if you really want this.”

You lock eyes with him, sitting up to your full height and trying not to back away from the metal rod. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the adrenaline rush to kick in.”

“Pretty sure that happens after the pain, yeh?

A huff and your fingers curl over the edge of the counter and squeeze.

“Just…get it over with, Hobie.” You take a deep breath. “Please?”

“Alright alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Hobie eases a hand around your jaw and raises the needle. “You know I’ve got you. Now keep still.”

Another deep breath from you and Hobie meets your eye for a second time.

“On three,” he grunts. With your head in his grasp you can’t physically nod so you use your eyes to convey your agreement.

Hobie takes a breath to start the countdown and you inhale with him. You’ve gotten your ears pierced before, you could do this. It was fine. Plus you’ll have a few seconds to prep yourself before he gets to number three. You got this. You both exhale.

“Three,” he states.

Without a second to spare the needle pierces through the squishy cartilage of your nose and your breath catches in your throat. Instantly tears well in your eyes and your face heats up something fierce - like somebody’s holding a blow dryer on the highest setting up to it with zero mercy. Your joints pop, grasp on the counter growing tighter in your attempt to keep yourself from jerking out of Hobie’s hold. The sheer need to not garner an actual injury from the metal is almost solely what keeps you in place.

This wasn’t like an ear piercing at fucking all. Fuck this septum piercing and fuck Hobie too. What the fuck?

“Ow! You motherfucker!”

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! I only wrote his accent clearly some of the time; you’ll have to forgive me. I was confusing my damn self, okay? I did my best.

Also what I said about how adrenaline works isn’t really correct so don’t take that as gospel.

Edit: Had this labeled gn!reader on accident at first y’all, that’s my bad. Sorry for any confusion.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

I Don’t Ask Much, I Just Want You

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria

Warnings: Sexual Themes; Oral (m receiving)

Summary: You know just how to convince Daryl to socialize.

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

It was late in the evening when you found yourself in a warm bath and pillowed against Daryl’s chest. You held his left hand above the water, toying with his long fingers. You would bend and straighten them before lacing your fingers through his. No rhyme or reason, just comforting. Twisting to look back at him, the archer had his eyes closed, damp hair sticking to his face and neck. His hair was so long now; nearly to his shoulders. You loved running your fingers through it, scratching his scalp until he was almost purring.

“Soooooo,” you began, returning your attentions to his fingers. Daryl made a noise behind you to indicate he was listening. “Rick wants us to go to the party in a few days. Just to boost morale around here. I told him we’d be there.” You winced when he groaned.

“Why’d ya do that?”

“I know, but he’s right. The people need something to lift their spirits. Everyone’s gonna be there.”

“All the more reason to not go.”

You could tell he wasn’t angry. Daryl was never one for socializing, preferring the quiet of your home to any outing you could think of that involved other people. You were usually alright with that; he had met you in the middle and would accompany you on walks and even hold your hand when you asked. He would even venture to Aaron’s sometimes to work on the bike without closing the garage door. He did a lot of things outside his comfort zone for you. You smiled and brought his hand to your mouth, pressing gentle kisses to each knuckle.

“I could possibly make it worth your while.”

“Ya got my attention.”

You smirked. Gotcha. Turning over, you pressed yourself against him and slid down a bit. “Want to see how long I can hold my breath?” The hunter arched a brow. With a wicked grin, you slipped below the water.

Daryl watched curiously until he felt the warmth of your mouth around him. One hand gripped the edge of the tub, while the other tangled in your hair. He let his head fall back and kept his grip light, not even guiding lest you need to come up for air. You had a way of leaving him wrecked and pliable, ready to give in to anything you asked.

Before you surfaced, the amount of time you spent working him into a frenzy beneath the water was impressive to say the least. You barely took in a lungful of air before his mouth crashed into yours, leaving you breathing harshly through your nose.

"So," you gasped, fingers tangling in his hair. You leaned your head back and to the side as his mouth found your neck, nipping and sucking the wet flesh. You worked an arm between your bodies, rising above him before sinking back down, your body accepting him into your warm, slick center. The string of curses that left his mouth was absolutely filthy. With a roll of your hips, the water splashed around you and Daryl fell back heavily with a hiss. "About that party?"

[johnwickb1tsch]

Yandere Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick Imagine WIP Part 8

After 450 comments on the last section 🤣 its time for a new one. U guyz are gremlins!😆👏👏 @treedaddymcpuffpuff @tammykelly @sweetwolfcupcake @lilspookymeh

-------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"A what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah. You?"

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

With a tired sigh you nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can't even argue.

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

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

"No, never," you sigh.

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

"What are we going to do?"

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

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

Tex frowns. John seems less than impressed.

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

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

"John..."

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

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

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

"So lift it."

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

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

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

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

"Bout?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't know."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No fuckin' way," Tex scoffs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"If the curse fits?"

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

"Alright, wizard boy. Hoodoo me up."

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

"Yeah."

"Great. Hope you like to drive fast."

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

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

"Let's move."

--------

Hope I set this up for Midnite's club and whatever shenanigans u guys want to get up to 😆 Enjoy! @sweetwolfcupcake @treedaddymcpuffpuff @tammykelly

[svp3rrn0va]

Wicked Games (NSFW)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow & f!MC

Summary: MC recently ended a serious relationship with Garreth Weasley and she's in the anger stage. All she wants is to make him jealous. She approaches her friend Sebastian who she knows will be willing to help her with that. They succeed, but Sebastian gets a bit too carried away, but MC doesn't seem to mind...

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, creampie, revenge

Word Count: 4,083

For the last week, you found yourself lying awake at night wondering when Garreth would change his mind. You had been together for 8 months, and although one might argue that isn't much time, it felt like an eternity for you.

Your relationship with Garreth was the first that you felt was truly serious, and your feelings certainly reflected that. You had fallen in love -- or at least you thought you did. Whether or not you did, though, it didn't matter. You were still heartbroken.

But you were done with the tears. Especially because you knew Garreth hadn't shed any. He was the one who called it off, after all, and for no good reason. But you felt it coming for a while. He was becoming distant. You would ask if everything was alright, and he'd tell you it was, but you knew better.

Not a day has passed since he ended it that you've sat wondering what you did wrong, or what's wrong with you that suddenly made him disinterested. You didn't want that to happen, because no girl should diminish her self-worth over what a stupid boy thinks.

After all these negative thoughts, you wanted to get revenge on Garreth. How dare he make you feel this way about yourself? You didn't want to hurt him physically, of course, but he had hurt you mentally. Why not return the favor, or get a rise out of him at the very least?

There was only one thing you could think of doing to get back at him.

Make him jealous.

That's where Sebastian comes in. You've known Sebastian for years and considered him one of your best friends. He'd do anything for you. Sebastian's known around the castle for being extremely handsome, and you knew Garreth was threatened by him, but he'd never admit it.

Whenever Sebastian won in Crossed Wands, or made a good beater play in Quidditch, Garreth was always the first to scoff and ask 'So what?' while everyone else applauded and congratulated him. There was no competition, but clearly, Garreth took all of Sebastian's triumphs as personal attacks.

It was no surprise that Sebastian turned up mere minutes after you sent an owl telling him to meet you in the Undercroft.

"What's wrong? Are you alright?" He asked with concern etched across his face.

"I'm fine, well, I will be," you replied, sitting on the floor against one of the pillars. "I need to ask you for a favor."

"Of course, anything," he said, sitting across from you on the floor.

"I want you to help me make Garreth jealous." Sebastian laughed and you frowned. "I'm serious."

"Why do you want to do that?"

"Because I'm mad and hate him," you replied, crossing your arms.

"You don't hate him, you're just hurting right now, which is understandable."

"Sebastian I've been hating myself for days now because of him. It's unfair that I have to feel like this while he's not bothered at all."

Sebastian sighed and frowned.

"I know. I'm sorry. But are you sure you want to do this? What's the point? I think this will help you realize you're better off without him. You should work on moving on instead of getting revenge."

You knew Sebastian meant well, but you were getting frustrated at him being difficult for once. He normally didn't question you on things you wanted, and you didn't know why this time was different. You and him were both very stubborn and couldn't be swayed once you had your mind set on things, and this was one of those things.

"Sebastian, please..."

You blinked quickly at him, trying to give him puppy dog eyes. He watched you for a moment, and you grinned when you finally heard him sigh.

"Alright, if this will make you happy, I'll do it."

"Thank you, Seb."

You knew he would be easy to crack since you've spent a lot of time crying to him recently. He knew how upset you've been and he hated seeing you that way, so he was willing to do anything to make you feel better.

"How are you planning to do this?" He asked.

"There's a Slytherin-Gryffindor party on Saturday after the Quidditch game, regardless of who wins."

"Oh, right, forgot about that."

"I assume Garreth will be there since he never misses a party. Let's just go together and look like we're flirting with each other in front of him."

Sebastian nodded. "Alright. Sounds simple enough."

***

It was Saturday and the match just ended. As usual, Slytherin won. You threw Sebastian a thumbs-up as you skipped over to him. He returned an exhausted smile as he panted, sweat dripping from his hair. He always looked so handsome that way.

"I need a shower," he said once you reached him.

"That's fine, I can wait for you. He would definitely notice us turning up at the same time, anyway."

You waited outside the showers, watching the hippogriffs flying far off in the sky, lost in thought until Sebastian tapped you on the shoulder, all dressed up and ready to go.

He looked really good. He was wearing an all-black outfit. A black button-up shirt, black dress pants, and black dress shoes. The wet hair enhanced the look as well. He looked classy.

"That's a good outfit," You say, eyeing him up and down.

"Thank you. Is it too formal? I don't want to be overdressed," he chuckled shyly.

"Not at all. It's a party, dress however you like."

"Good. I figured if I'm all dressed up it could irritate Garreth even more, assuming he's just going without his robe."

You smirked. "Well, I appreciate you going all out for me, considering you were unsure about all this."

"If I'm helping you then I want to do it to the best of my ability."

You squeezed his arm lovingly as we went down to the dungeons where the party was being held.

Once you arrived and entered the common room, almost instantly you made eye contact with Garreth, and his smile faded as soon as he noticed you standing next to Sebastian. He quickly turned to talk to his friends and pretended he was unbothered.

"Looks like it's working already," You said to Sebastian.

"Good. I'll go get us some drinks. Go find a spot near him."

You nodded and you split up. You slowly made your way towards him, acting aloof as if you weren't putting much thought into where you were wandering. You sat a few feet away from him on the sofa, and he was standing near the fireplace with his friends.

You tried to watch him from the corner of your eye to be discreet. You could see that he noticed you, which was good. You wanted to be in his direct line of sight. Thankfully he didn't move, which you worried that he would.

Sebastian returned with 2 glasses of fire whiskey moments later.

"I'm glad you found somewhere comfortable," he said, sitting beside you on the sofa.

You laughed, loud enough to get Garreth's attention. Sebastian gave you a strange look and began to laugh himself, since what he said wasn't funny at all.

"What are you doing?"

"Putting on the act, of course," You mumbled, squeezing his arm with a bright smile.

You kept your gaze on Sebastian, trying not to be too obvious. Sebastian took a few glances at Garreth, however.

"He looks annoyed," he said.

"That's great."

You grabbed the fire whiskey and took a couple large sips, wanting to get a buzz on so this would be even easier. Sebastian followed suit, taking some sips of his own drink. He winced as the alcohol burned his throat on the way down.

The night went on and you and Sebastian remained planted on the sofa, and Garreth by the fireplace. He kept glaring in your direction every time you laughed or spoke a bit too loud. He was clearly distracted in his conversation.

You both had finished your fire whiskey and you weren't drunk, but you were definitely buzzed at this point. You took some more daring approaches as the buzz grew, such as touching Sebastian's chin and ruffling his hair.

It seemed Sebastian was getting more daring, too, as he placed a hand on your thigh. Your heart skipped a beat for a second, but you quickly brushed it off and took a quick glance over at Garreth, making it look like you just happened to spot him by accident. His face was nearly as red as his hair.

"Alright, Sebastian, he looks mad enough. I think we're go-"

You were cut off by Sebastian planting his lips on yours.

What the fuck?

You lightly pushed him off and stared at him in shock. But all of a sudden, your mind was fuzzy. You nearly forgot why you were at the party with Sebastian in the first place. You didn't even care about wanting to make Garreth jealous anymore.

"Oh, I'm so sorry... I don't know what came ov-"

You pulled him in for more, and he instantly melted into you. As soon as Sebastian kissed you the first time, that's all you wanted. His lips on yours. Your intentions were completely derailed, but you didn't care. This was amazing.

After a minute, you pulled away from Sebastian once again. When you looked over to the fireplace, Garreth was gone. He must've stormed off after the kiss.

You looked back at Sebastian, who stared at you with the same look of shock as you'd given him before. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, you grabbed his wrist and led him all the way to the Undercroft in silence.

"Look, I already told you, I'm really sorry," he pleaded as soon as the door shut behind you.

"Are you drunk?" You asked him.

"No. I'm buzzed, but I'm sober. Are you drunk?"

"No."

There was a moment of silence.

"Why did you kiss me?" You asked suddenly.

"I don't know... I was trying to say I didn't know what came over me," he began to pace back and forth.

"I mean -- you didn't need to. He was already fuming just from us touching each other."

"Why are you interrogating me? You kissed me the second time."

You froze. He was right. You didn't even know if Garreth left after the first or second kiss.

"I-- I don't-"

"I kissed you because I wanted to," he mumbled.

"You what?"

"I wanted to."

He stopped pacing and turned to face you, taking a deep breath.

"I'm not drunk by any means, but maybe the alcohol made me a bit more brave. I wanted to kiss you. I've wanted to kiss you for years. Why do you think I always agree to do things for you, do things with you? Because I want every excuse to spend time with you. I was destroyed when you got with Garreth, and I was even more destroyed when I saw how heartbroken he made you. Each time you came and cried to me about how awful you felt, all I wanted to do was hold you, but I couldn't. I couldn't tell you how I felt while you were going through that. You told me how you must be ugly for him to lose interest so suddenly, or how you're not important enough. Truly, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and you are worth the world. I wanted to fucking kill Garreth when I saw how devastated you were. He made a mistake hurting you. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I needed to. Because I love you."

In an instant, your world changed. You remembered so many things at once. It explained why you wanted to kiss him back. You remembered the feeling in your stomach every time you would see him. You remembered the feeling in your stomach every time he would leave. You remembered the feeling in your stomach when you'd get into an argument and were unsure if he would ever forgive you.

You especially remembered the feeling in your stomach when he got a little too friendly with Nellie Oggspire. You realized that was the reason you even got with Garreth in the first place. You were trying to avoid your feelings for Sebastian. That day you made your first move on Garreth when you had no interest in him before that.

No one else made you feel the way Sebastian did... and for some reason, you tried repressing those feelings. Maybe out of fear that you would lose him? He was the only person who could truly make you laugh, and he was the only person who was willing to listen to everything you were going through.

"Can- can you say something?" Sebastian asked quietly.

"I- I love you, too."

"You do?"

You nodded. "I do. I love you, Sebastian. I always have."

In seconds, Sebastian closed the distance between you both, crashing his lips onto you once again. You instantly felt weak in the knees and you grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt to keep yourself from falling over.

You were already attracted to him, but the taste of the fire whiskey on his lips made him even more intoxicating, and you wanted to taste it even more. He seemed to have read your mind as he slipped his tongue into your mouth at the slightest part of your lips.

You moaned into his mouth and he leaned down a bit, placing his hands on the back of your knees. You knew what he wanted you to do and you obliged, jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist. He held onto you and brought you over to a desk you both used to study in the Undercroft.

He propped you up so you were sitting on the desk and he stood between your legs as he began to unbutton your blouse.

"Do you want to do this?" He asked.

The unmistakable throbbing in your core confirmed that you wanted nothing else but this. You nodded.

He continued to unbutton your blouse and gently placed it on the desk beside you once it was removed. He looked at your half-naked torso with a lick of his lips and softly traced his fingers down your arms, giving you goosebumps.

You turned around to give him access to the buttons on your corset, breathing a sigh of relief once it was fully unbuttoned. He slowly removed the corset as well, leaving your upper body fully exposed to him.

"Fucking beautiful, look at you," he growled.

You blushed at his praise.

Sebastian stepped closer to you, leaning down and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. You gasped and arched your back towards him, gripping his hair in your fists. He sucked and licked on your nipple until it was hard before moving on to the next one.

He hadn't even been inside you yet and you couldn't deny that he was pleasuring you much better than Garreth ever had. You were absolutely desperate for him at this point. You spread your legs even further to let him know you were ready.

Sebastian got the memo, as he took his mouth off your breast and began to pull down your skirt. You wiggled your hips so it was easier for him to slide it off.

He stepped forward again to kiss you some more as he pressed his fingers against your clit, still covered by your underwear, but the pressure was enough to cause you to yelp and shake. The sound made him grin against your lips.

"Sensitive..." he whispered.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to keep yourself upright as he began to rub circles on your clit, relishing in the feeling of the soaking wet fabric, knowing just how ready you were for him.

"How does that feel, honey? Does that feel good?" He asked, with his tone so deep his voice alone could've made you finish. You nodded, unable to form words as you threw your head back in pleasure.

"I'm glad. I want to taste you now, is that alright?"

You whimpered at the thought of his tongue on your pussy, and you craved it. "Yes, please, Seb..."

He smiled at you and began to pull down your underwear, and your clit pulsed in anticipation.

Your underwear joined the rest of your clothes in their spot on the desk, and Sebastian gently pushed your legs further apart, getting a good look at your sweet spot.

"I'm going to make you feel really good. I'll make you forget about Weasley," he said, running his hand down your thigh.

You almost went unconscious at how hot the sight of him getting on his knees in front of you was.

You fell back against the desk as soon as you felt Sebastian's tongue run across your slit. "Oh, fuck," you squeaked.

He chuckled deeply before flicking it once against your clit, and your legs flexed in response. He wrapped his arms around your thighs before going in, rapidly flicking his tongue against your nub, not worrying about how much he began to salivate.

You cried out his name and tugged on his hair, trying to pry him off due to how deep his tongue was pressed onto your clit and how sensitive it already was, but he wouldn't budge. In fact, he went in even more.

It felt so fucking good you practically couldn't breathe, and you couldn't sit up for longer than 5 seconds before falling back onto the desk again.

Sebastian shook his head back and forth like a madman, wanting to taste you like he hadn't eaten in days. You wanted to watch him as he ate you out, but your head was spinning in pure ecstasy. He knew just where to put his tongue, and Garreth was never good at eating you out. Sebastian knew exactly what he was doing.

You felt your orgasm coming already since your clit was so sensitive and needy. Sebastian knew it was coming as you closed your legs around his head, and he dug his fingers deeper into the skin of your thighs. It was over when he closed his lips around your nub and gently pulled on it. Instantly your pussy began to pulsate and you felt your juices spilling out onto the desk.

"Fuck me, Sebastian!" You cried.

Sebastian licked up every last drop of your juices, even tracing his finger on whatever dripped on the desk and sucking that off, too. Seeing his chin shine in the light from your cum was the hottest thing you'd ever seen.

You spotted the raging boner in his trousers once he stood up and it made your mouth water. He wanted you so badly, and you him. You cupped his bulge and looked up at him, licking your lips.

"Please," you whine.

Sebastian shook his head.

"No, honey," he said softly, placing a finger to your chin. "This night is all about you. I want to please you tonight."

Fuck. He's perfect.

You bit your lip at him as you nodded in compliance, and that subtle act seemed to send him into a frenzy. He dove forward, biting and sucking at your neck as he ground against you. You reached up and began to unbutton his shirt but you only got the top few unbuttoned when he stopped you.

"No. That takes too long," he growled.

You froze for a moment until he started fumbling with his belt, and you realized he was just so desperate to be inside you that he didn't want to waste time undressing, and it had you throbbing all over again.

He removed his belt and unclasped the button of his trousers, pulling them down just enough along with his underwear for him to be exposed to you. You dripped at the sight of his beautiful cock, fully erect and stunningly girthy. He was going to stretch you out perfectly.

The tip of his penis was dark and shiny. You wanted to lick and suck on it like candy, but he didn't care about the foreplay on him. He just wanted to fuck you senseless, but you knew you'd have plenty of time to suck him off in the future. At this point you wanted him to do anything he wanted to you.

He gave his shaft a few more pumps as he stepped closer to you. Just by looking you could tell he likely wouldn't last long, as he was visibly pulsing and pre-cum was already dripping from the hole.

You hissed as he teased your slit by rubbing himself on it, and he leaned in to give you a soft, tender kiss.

"I love you," he whispered.

Before you even had time to reply, your words were cut off with a long groan as he pushed himself into you. Your vision went blurry as his thick cock stretched you out in all the best ways. You grabbed onto his sleeves so tightly you nearly ripped them.

Sebastian began his slow thrusts in and out of you, and he pressed his forehead against yours, wanting to look into your eyes as he entered you as deeply as he could.

His thrusts were slow but aggressive, and you could feel his balls slapping against your skin every time he pushed in. You were somewhat glad he kept his shirt on, as this shirt made him look very broad and manly, and you loved to see him in it as he fucked you.

"You're so warm, you feel so good," he moaned.

He leaned down, pressing his head into your neck and you leaned further back against the desk. His thrusts began to speed up and you clenched your legs around his waist, wanting to feel him as much as you could.

Sebastian wrapped one arm around your back to stabilize you and planted a few more kisses to the crook of your neck. You shivered as he pressed his tongue against your flesh.

He groaned at how tightly your walls pressed around his length from you clenching around his waist. The wetness and warmth sent him over the edge and he knew he wouldn't be able to manage for much longer.

"I'm getting close, my love," he panted.

"Fuck me, Seb. Fill me up," you replied.

He became ravenous at those words, beginning to pound into you so quickly you could've gone numb from the waist down. You cried out as he fucked you senselessly, and he pressed his lips onto your nipple once again.

He licked circles around your nipple, and your body jerked upward as he gently pressed his teeth onto it. He moaned when you made a soft, animalistic grunt in response. Once he pulled away and caught sight of the way your tits bounced from him pounding into you, it was enough for him.

"Oh, baby, I'm gonna- fuck!"

You gasped and shook as you felt him throb inside of you, spilling everything he could into your pussy. The twitching of his cock along with the warmth filling your hole was enough to send you as well, and you wailed as your walls began to clench around him.

You fell back against the desk and he leaned over you. The two of you sat still for a moment, him still inside you, and you both panted until you came back to your senses. He gave you another loving kiss before pulling himself out.

"Oh Merlin," he chuckled. "I think I'll need another shower."

"I might need one, too," you replied.

He began to straighten himself out, rebuttoning the top of his shirt and pulling his trousers back up. Concern spread across his face when he noticed your serious expression.

"You alright?" He asked.

"I'm fine. But, am I awful for doing this so quickly?"

Sebastian sighed and came back over to you, cupping your face in his hands.

"You're not. You did nothing wrong, my love. He led you on for months before breaking up with you. He missed out. It's my turn to give you the love that you deserve. You hear me?"

You smiled and nodded at him, and he gave you another peck on the lips.

"I just hope he doesn't give me a hard time," you mumbled.

"He won't. Not anymore," he replied. "Or else he'll have to deal with me."

[stellamancer]

a littol gojo drabble.

contains: gojo, food (or rather a drink) and sharing(?) of said drink, not proofread, part of the infinite loop verse

You've always been the type to finish what you start.

But the drink in your hands right now is giving you a run for your money.

It’d sounded so good when you had grabbed it from the convenience store this morning, a limited edition drink that had seduced you with its cute packaging, deviating you from the path of your typical morning caffeinated beverage. But now that you’re drinking it, you’re filled with nothing but regret. It’s not that the drink is bad, it’s just too—

“Not a fan?”

You look up to find Gojo leaning casually against the desk next to you, arms crossed as he looks at you with an amused sort of curiosity. You frown at him as you ask, “You could tell?” 

“The little ‘blegh’ sound you made after you took your last sip kind of gave it away,” he says airly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Ugh…” You hadn’t realized that he’d noticed; you’d barely heard the sound yourself. Sighing, you take another sip from the bottle, grimacing as what tastes like concentrated liquid sugar hits your tongue. If you drink any more of this you think you might die of a sugar overdose, but you don’t want to just toss it either… “Hey, Gojo.”

“Yeeees?”

“You like sweet stuff, right? Do you want the rest of this?’ You pull the bottle away from your mouth and swivel your hand to show him the drink label. 

“Sure. I don’t mind being your personal garbage can.” 

Your eye twitches. Didn’t have to say it like that, but whatever, at least the drink isn’t going to waste. You rise from your desk, drink still in hand. “Okay cool. Let me go find you a paper cup or something to pour it into.” 

“Not necessary,” he says and before you can insist on it or even say anything else, Gojo plucks the open bottle from your hand and you whip your head back toward him just in time to see him take a swig from the bottle, completely unconcerned with the fact that your lips were in the same exact spot just a mere moment before.

“Not bad,” he says.

Just as you’re about to tell him that you’re glad that someone enjoyed it he licks his lips and for some reason the sight causes your entire mind to go completely blank. You can tell Gojo notices because he shoots you a wicked grin. “Something wrong? Decide you want the drink after all?”

Your brain reboots and you shake your head viciously, not only to answer Gojo but to rid yourself of any extraneous thoughts that have wormed into your head. “No, you can keep it.”

[aerynwrites]

Masquerade of Liars

Dad!Gale x Fem!Reader

A/N: Had to do a little something for Halloween! So i found out Faerun has their own kind of Halloween called Liars Night or Masquerade of Liars. Here’s a link if you want to read more about it, it’s actually super cool! But I also just wanted to write some soft Dad!Gale after so many of you seemed to enjoy that one shot of him finding out reader was pregnant. So hope y’all enjoy!

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: reader is referred to as mother/mum.

*not beta read, sorry for any grammatical errors*

The smell of sulfur fills your nose as you strike a match to light the small wax candles before you. You light the wicks before shaking the match to douse the flame, and grabbing one of the lit candles.

“Cassias!” You call, moving to place the light source inside of your son’s pumpkin. “Are you almost ready? We need to go. Gale-!”

Your husband materializes just as you call his name, his lips against your own cutting off your words. You sigh when you pull away, smiling despite yourself as you place the last two candles in the remaining pumpkins. 

“Did you help Cas with his costume?” You ask, looking over the carved orange spheres before you, making sure they look alright before you put them outside. 

Gale lets out a quiet laugh as he shrugs his shoulders, “I tried, but he could not be swayed to accept my assistance. He wanted to do it himself.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes playfully, “He is definitely your son - stubborn.”

Gale lets out a small scoff, as he steps forward to wrap his arms around your waist. “Me? Stubborn? I think he gets that from you, my love.”

You let out a low hum, as you reach up to straighten the collar of his robe, “I suppose he gets it from the both of us.”

Gale smiles. “That’s better,” he says, before leaning in to kiss you again. 

You relish in the somewhat quiet moment in your lover’s arms, knowing that the rest of the night will be full of excitement and noise. 

The approaching thunder of footsteps coming down the stone steps of the tower make you separate from one another, but not before you press one last kiss to his cheek. 

“I’m coming!” You son calls as he barrels down the stairs, nearly tripping over the tail of his costume as he hits the floor. 

You instinctively reach out for him, but he’s righted himself before you can help, and you’re unable to stifle the grin that splits your lips as you take in the costume Cassian wears. 

He insisted on being a dragon. A red dragon specifically. And it had to have horns, and giant wings. 

And well…who were you to deny him?

His mask looked like that of a red dragon, tall pointed black horns rising from the top of it, even pointy teeth peeking out of the creature's mouth. The rest of his costume was just as elaborate, you and Cassian having worked on it for weeks leading up to the Masquerade of Liars. His shirt and pants are lined with hundreds of small metal scales that glint in the candle light. He even has a tale pinned to his pants, which may prove to be more of a hindrance now that you see it dragging the ground. 

Even Gale helped with the costume, adding his own magical flare in the form of gentle smoke coming from the mask's mouth as if Cassian could breathe fire. 

“Look, father look!” Cassian jumps around in his costume, the scales tinkling softly as he does so and reflecting a beautiful dappled light pattern all through the kitchen. 

Gale ‘ooo’s’ and ‘ah’s’ at his son’s costume before picking the child up and smiling at the giggles that pour out from behind the mask. 

“You’re just as fearsome as the legendary Ansur of Baldur’s Gate,” Gale tells him seriously before reaching up to tilt the mask up to the top of Cassian's head, revealing his face to you both. 

Cassian is basically a spitting image of Gale. Warm brown eyes and dark hair. Gale insists he got your nose though, and your smile, which you’re happy about if not a little begrudging. You carried him for nine months! The least the gods could have done is given him your eyes…

But you wouldn’t change a thing, not really. Cassian has turned into a wonderful child, all chubby cheeks and laughter and kindness. Even now you watch in silent admiration as Cassian talks animatedly with his father. Despite being only six his vocabulary is as big as Gales. 

“Are you ready for a night of trickery and lies?” Gale asks, voice dropping to a playfully low octave.

Cassian nods, eyes lighting up. “And candy!” 

Glae laughs, moving to set Cassian back on his feet. “And candy of course. Do you have room in your pockets?”

Cassian nods fervently, face serious as he pats both pockets on his costume. “I even have candy in my other pocket so no one steals our coin.”

You stifle a laugh at the seriousness with which Cassian takes the holiday. 

Liars night, though now more commonly known as the Masquerade of Liars is a night to pay tribute to the dirties Leira and Mask. While it started centuries ago as a more serious holiday it’s evolved into more of a fun tradition to celebrate the gods. 

The particular tradition Cassian is referring to is pickpocketing. It used to be so common back when the holiday was first created that people started keeping candy in their pockets instead of coins - this soon evolved into people taking the candy and leaving behind trinkets or a small note in return. 

Now most people just give the candy out, especially to children. But the occasional trinket still makes it into a pocket here or there - and you aren’t about to ruin his fun. 

“Very good, Cas!” You praise, turning to face the carved pumpkins once more. “We should be ready to go once we put the pumpkins on the doorstep. Do you want to carry yours?”

“Yes, yes! Can I?” He reaches his hands up expectantly, and you smile, looking over at Gale. 

“What do you think, my love?” 

Gale nods, a smile matching your own on his face as he takes Cassian’s pumpkins from the counter. “I think a dragon as fearsome as Cassian can carry his own pumpkin to the stoop this year.”

Cassian cheers and takes the pumpkin carefully in his arms, Gale keeping a watchful eye until he’s sure he has a secure hold on it. 

You take your pumpkins and Gale takes his as you all move to the front door of the tower, moving slowly to keep the candles lit. 

“Be careful Cas,” you say, following close behind. “You don’t want the candle to blow out, remember?”

“I remember, mum,” he says, “It’s bad luck.”

You nod as Gale reaches out with one hand to open the door for all of you, the cool night air kissing your skin. “That’s right.”

You watch as Cassian moves to set his pumpkin at the top of the stairs right next to the door, turning it this way and that until he’s happy with the placement. You and Gale place yours nearby before locking the door and taking Cassian’s hands in your own. 

Once at the bottom of the stairs, you all turn to look at the small display, the candles flickering gently in the night. Cassian hops impatiently between you and your husband, his little hands squeezing yours tightly. 

“Can we go?” He asks, excitement bleeding into his words. 

You chuckle and nod. “Of course. We wouldn’t want to miss the festivities.”

The three of you walk from your home towards Waterdeeps town square. While the night is celebrated throughout the city, most people gather in the square. Vendors set up to sell food or other festive items and children run around trying to collect as much candy as they can in one night. Even the adults partake in the costumes and activities. You and Gale have dressed up in the past, but this year you decided to forgo a disguise.

Cassian chats animatedly as you make your way down the quiet streets, the sounds of celebration getting louder the closer you get to the center of Waterdeep. His steps get more impatient until eventually, both you and Gale are stumbling to keep up with the energetic child as you finally reach your destination. 

The square is decorated for the holiday, lanterns hanging all around, and some even floating in the air thanks to some other magic wielders. Autumnal colored banners and draping shirt line the various vendor stalls and the fountain at the center, and lively music fills the square as well. 

Cassian breaks away from you and Gale when he spots one of his friends, a little tiefling boy named Allon who looks to be dressed as an owlbear. 

Gale laughs as you both follow him, watching as he embraces his friend before gesturing excitedly at their costumes. “I don’t understand where all that energy comes from - it surely doesn’t come from me.”

You let out a chuckle of your own as you stand a few paces back to let Cassian talk to his friend. “That’s just how children are, I’m afraid. But it dies down. Eventually.” 

Gale just hums quietly in response, watching your son with adoring eyes as he and Allon take turns roaring at each other. 

You remember a time many years ago when Gale told you he didn’t feel like he was father material. Granted it was in the middle of some tumultuous times for everyone, but you had thought he truly meant it. And despite him being overjoyed when you told him you were pregnant with Cassian several years ago you couldn’t help but worry those doubts would creep back in. 

But they never did.

Gale took to fatherhood like a fish to water. Despite it being a learning curve for the both of you, he took everything in stride and a new glow settled into his being. Even in his most dour moods from hours of fruitless research or a failed spell experiment, his face would always light up at the sight of his son. 

This adoration just seemed to grow as Cassian got older, the boy taking after his father in almost everything. You remember thinking that Gale was going to die of happiness when Cassian started to show an affinity for magic and a certain connection to the weave. 

You know he would have been happy even if Cassian showed no interest in the weave or magic in general, but the fact that he does has only pulled the two of them closer. 

“Mr. Dekarios!” 

Allon’s voice pulls you from your reverie, watching as him and Cassian come running up to you and Gale. You look past him to see his parents watching you all and give them a small wave which they return. 

Gale takes his hand from your own as the boy approaches and crouches down to his level.

“Yes, Allon?”

The boy, whose mask is tipped up to sit on top of his head, looks slightly sheepish as he looks at Gale.

“Can you show me that magic trick again?” He asks politely.

Gale feigns to think for a moment, hand on his chin as he scratches his beard. “Do you mean this one?”

With a flick of his wrist and a faint purple aura, Gale produces a small foil wrapped chocolate in the palm of his hand just to the side of Allon’s face. The tiefling giggles in delight before snatching the candy and stuffing it in his mouth. 

You hear a small gasp come from behind him as his mother approaches, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“Allon, what do you say?”

His eyes widen as he speaks around the chocolate in his mouth. “-‘fank you.”

Gale laughs before pulling two more chocolates from his robe and handing them to him. “You’re most welcome.”

Allon’s mother gives you both a small apology before leading her son back to where her husband stands. 

Gale’s trick for Allon starts to attract a small crowd of children, all of them begging to see him do more tricks and other magical displays. Your wizard stands next to you as the gaggle grows, a huge grin splitting his lips as he complies with the tiny demands. 

He pulls candy out of thin air, handing them to the small grabby hands that reach out before moving to pull hard candy’s from behind some children’s ears or even making them appear right in their pockets. You watch from a few feet away, as Cassian fights his way to the front of the crowd. Gal hoists him into his arms and pauses his display as yours son leans in to whisper in his ear. 

Gale’s eyes light up, and he nods. “That sounds like a grand idea, Cassian. Would you like to help me?”

At the prospect of helping his father with magic, Cassian nods fervently, his mask shaking funnily on his face. Gale instructs the other children to back up just a few feet before setting Cassian down beside him. He turns to face him and takes his little hands in his own, palms facing up. 

“Now, remember,” he instructs gently, “You have to think about it very hard, try to picture it in your head.”

Cassian nods firmly, and you can practically picture the look of serious determination on his face.

Gale continues. “And remember, do not be discouraged if it does not work because…”

“I’m still learning and mistakes are okay,” Cassian recites the words Gale tells him so often. 

Gale smiles, squeezing Cassian’s hands. “That’s right. Now, are you ready?”

Cassian nods again and Gale turns to face the small crowd, which has now grown to include adults as well. You’ve now moved to join the crowd a few paces back from the front row of children in order to watch your family. You bite the inside of your cheek, hoping that Cassian isn’t nervous in any way. 

Gale places both hands out in front of him, palms together and waits as Cassian mimics him. After a moment of concentration he separates his hands to reveal a small area of purple and blue light. You wait for Cassian to do the same but find yourself slightly perplexed when he stays still, his hands held firmly together in front of him.

You watch as Gale whispers something to him before he thrusts his hands skywards ending out a cascade of purple and blue light that settles over the crowd. Moments later you watch as Cassian does the same but instead, pure starlight springs out from his palms, creating a magical night sky above the square as the pinpricks of bright white light settle among the colorful aurora. 

Cheers and gasps of pleasure erupt from the crowd, but you don’t stay to watch their faces as they marvel at the magic. You’re already rushing forward, taking Cassian in your arms as you gasp. 

“Cassian, that was amazing!” You praise, hugging him close before looking at Gale who gazes proudly at his son. “When did you learn to do that?”

Cassian pulls away so he can look at you, tugging his mask up so his brown eyes can look into your own, excitement and utter joy sparkling in his eyes. 

“I’ve been practicing for over a tenday!” He says proudly.

Finally gale approaches, finally free from attention as they all marvel at his handiwork. “It’s true. He would not rest until he was sure he could do it,” he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. “In fact it was you he wanted to surprise most.”

You smile and turn to look at your son again. “Well consider me surprised,” you tell him before peppering his face with kisses, causing him to squeal. “I’m so, so proud of you, Cas.”

“Muuum!” He whines, causing you to relent in your barage of kisses. 

“Okay, okay,” you say, moving to set him back on his feet. “Why don’t we go explore the rest of the square? I think I saw someone selling cinnamon buns…”

At the mention of his favorite treat, Cassian’s face lights up again and he tugs his mask back down as he grabs your and Gale’s hand in each of his one.

“Yes! Let’s go, let’s go!”

———

The moon is high in the sky by the time you three make your way home. Cassian is sound asleep in Gale’s arms, pockets building with candy, and chocolate staining the corners of his mouth. 

You approach the tower soon enough, the facing flicker of three candles greeting you through the carved mouths of the pumpkins. You smile as you make your way up the steps, getting the door for Gale before following them both inside. 

You follow them up to Cassian’s room and help Gale gently remove his costume, careful not to wake him. But despite your best efforts, just as you're tucking him into bed, Cassian stirs awake. 

His eyes flutter slowly as his hands come up to tug the blanket further around him. 

“Did the candles go out?” He asks sleepily. 

You shake your head, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Nope. They’re still lit, my love. No bad luck this year.”

Cassian nods before turning onto his side, eyes slipping closed as he falls right back asleep. 

You smile and press another kiss to his forehead, Gale doing the same before blowing out the candles and leaving the room, leaving the door cracked so a small amount of light can filter in from the hallway. 

You both move about readying for bed once Cassian is settled, neither of you speaking as sleep starts to tug at your minds as well. Only when you’re settled beneath the covers with Gale’s arms snaking around you do you finally break the silence. 

“You’re an amazing father,” you tell him softly, lips brushing against his own. 

Gale is silent for a moment, eyes trailing over your face before his eyes slip closed and he pulls you closer, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. 

“That is praise most high - praise I sometimes still feel unworthy of.”

You shake your head, wrapping around him further. “You deserve that and more, my love.”

He presses a kiss to your neck, the underside of your jaw, before eventually pulling away to capture your lips with his own. It’s a slow, languid kiss, both of you just taking each other in until finally breaking apart and settling against the pillows. 

“I love you,” gale says simply, pressing one last kiss to your cheek. “Thank you, for giving me this. Giving me a family.”

Your heart swells at his words and you move to bury your face in his chest, wanting him as close as possible. 

“I love you too.”

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Lewd Request:

Hey I was wondering if you could do a lewd Striker x male reader, something along the lines of the festival and the main character made a bet with striker he'd beat him but they lose so Striker has his way with him. Love your stories.

A bets a bet

You weren't particularly fond of the new field hand.

Sure, the man was good at his work.

He could shoot, and hunt and ride with the best of them, but something was... off.

Nobody was that good and that proud.

Of course, you couldn't say much, he may boast like a snakeoil salesman but like you'd said, he was as capable as any worker you'd ever had, if not more so.

And while you tried to ignore the man, much to your annoyance, he seemed to take a special liking to you.

The man often 'helping' you with chores, or coming along if you had to head into town.

His favourite was teasing you.

It started with a few comments here and there, teasing if you screwed something up, or had some issue or other.

Then it became general teasing and prodding, the man loving to get a rise out of you.

Though you could often get him back, the man usually either impressed or annoyed with your come bqcks, leaving you alone for a while.

Although, after a night of drinking with some of your siblings and farmhands.

Hed be teasing you, yet again, making some snarky comment on how often you got your dick wet, and after a few too many drinks and a serious lapse in judgement, you made an off handed comment on how if he wasn't such a prick, you probably would have been all over him.

And you immediately regretted it, cause that man perked up like a Hellhorse spotting a prime-rib.

After that, Striker only became more persistent.

It was never quite forceful enough for you to get creeper out. But he was certainly persistent. The sheer number of times he'd bitten his lower lip, giving you those playful "fuck me" eyes, was more then enough to haunt your dreams.

And while he could be a total pain in the ass, he was also really useful, so you put up with it, simply rolling your eyes when he made a less then subtle comment to you.

And you totally weren't into him.

Sure he was swave and confident and Very capable, and could probably ride you like he did bombproof-

Nope! You didn't think like that. No matter haw many times.

Or think about his skills with rope.

Mind drifting off to that one time he'd managed to tie you up, man sitting on your back as he practically purred in your ear.

Nope! None of that!

But, past all the flirting, you had a formidable rivalry.

Of course you always played it off.

You didn't care if he won some stupid race or could shoot something, or won some wrestling match. What do you care, not like a single win meant anything.

Unless you won.

In which case you felt like King of the Ring, and was sure to rub it in his face.

Until you lost a match of shooting, that bastard hitting one more can then you.

It was quite the roller-coaster.

At least for humble farm life.

Having been bested one time too many, you snapped, demanding a rematch.

At that he grew a wicked grin across his tanned facad, telling you he'd agree, buuut, if he won, he wanted something.

Hesitant, you'd ask what he wanted, the man moving forwards, arm on either side of you, pinning you to a fence, telling you smugly.

"A Kiss."

You, Red faced, woukd agree, telling him it wouldn't matter cause you'd win.

And you Aaaaallllmmmoooossssttt did.

Almost being the key and only word.

Hitting the last can, but failing to knock it off.

So, Striker, all smirks, strutted up, expecting a kiss.

And so, you gave him one.

Kissing his cheek.

Striker, cocked a brow, you telling him smugly.

"You wanted a kiss. Never said where you wanted it."

You spoke casually, taking your small victory in stride.

Though unfortunately, you set a precedence with that little incident, as after this, any time you competed, Striker managed to slip a bet in there.

Though none were as bold as the first one.

Usually little things. Making you call him sir or having you follow him around for a day.

And while it they were fairly innocent, if annoying, things, there was always a heavy sexual undertone.

He never stopped chasing you, he just chose a more... passive, method.

But, after a particularly hot night, you snuck out, ending up out in a field half naked, relaxing against a fence, enjoying what little breeze there was.

Of course, Striker would appear, he too half naked, man shirtless with only his hat and Ascot, the two of you just standing there for a while, in a peaceful silence as the breeze blew across the field.

After a while he'd finally pipe up, asking if you were gonna compete in the harvest moon games.

You'd hum, telling him you probably would, before asking why.

Striker, in an odd moment of seriousness stood there, peering at you with those ringed yellow eyes, the same ones that had haunted far too many of your dreams.

The man, turning to you, would ask if you wanna make a bet on it.

You, swallowing, would nod, telling him. 'Sure.'

So, getting off his fence, he walked over and in a surprising display of boldness would pin you to the fence, voice low, shimmer of his tail ringing out.

He wanted you.

He was sick of the games, the little bets, your 'rivalry', he was going all in, he wanted you.

So, if he won, he wanted you.

Standing there, chest to chest, the man peering intently into your eye.

You, red faced, blood rushing to the one place you didn't need it, would stand there.

And well, call it a weak will or your will being chipped away after so many months, or perhaps a large part of you wanted this all along, you agreed, telling him yes, may the best man win.

To which Striker smirked, chest to naked chest, leaning in and breathing hot in your ear.

"Don't worry... I will~"

And so, the next few days zipped by in the blink of the eye.

You didn't see Striker much, and when you did he usually just smirked, eyeing you in a fashion that always left you red faced, pants suddenly tightening.

And so, the day finally arrived. You and the family loading into the truck and rolling into town, Striker riding Bombproof besides you, the man giving you an occasion glance, you pretending you hadn't been staring.

The town was lively, and all the townsfolk were a flurry of activity, preparing to either join or enjoy the games.

You prepared as well, limbering, stretching, just getting ready.

Striker however, just stood there, leaning against a fencing, man chewing on a wheat stalk. The man occasionally glancing back at you.

You didn't say anything to him, not willing to let him mess with your mind any more.

Eventually, you got to the games.

You excelled.

As did Striked.

Both of you far surpassing the regular saps that participated.

You were faster, but Striker was more nimble.

Not evenly matched, but you certainly pushed yourself.

You both put in your best show, and it was a close fight, you working harder then you'd ever worked before, really pushing yourself to your limit.

And after pulling, jumping, running and wrestling. You fought, and bit, there being more than a few fatalities from each of you.

It was a tie!

Nah, Striker won.

Some asshole had just miscounted your score.

Striker won.

And hearing that, you just stood there.

It took a minute to sink in, and while you realised just what happened, Striker seemed to relish the news, bathing in the crowds applause.

A flurry of emotion hit you, your head seemingly spinning. But the most concerning part of it all was you weren't... you weren't upset.

You were a little annoyed, angry even at losing, but that felt more like being upset at losing the games.

Not the bet.

Striker, surprising you, didn't come up and boast. Instead he joined the crowd of adoring fans, the lot of them all heading off to celebrate.

So, knowing the fate before you, you joined, snatching a comedically large jug with 4 large Xs on the side, drinking at your pleasure.

Eventually you'd end up in the town bar, sipping your drink, you and Striker staring at each other from across the bar.

You refused to make the first move, yet as the minutes ticked by, you became restless, constantly looking back at the man.

The cowboy simply standing there, peering at you with that seductive little smile, sipping his own drink, seemingly content in his position.

You eventually grew tired of the waiting, and shotgunning your drink, you stormed over to the snake.

Of course, he wore that Victorious smirk of his, standing there as you approached.

You scowled, storming up to him, stopping just before him.

The man smiled, popping an olive into his mouth, giving you a royal shit eating grin.

You snorted, simply standing there.

You told him bluntly to get on with it then!

Striker just smirked, looking you over, the fucking snake was relishing this.

After a few minutes, he asked what ever could you mean? And so, snapping at him that he was an Ass, you grabbed the man, dragging the him upstairs.

Striker just went along with it, smirking as he finshed his drink, discarding the bottle as he stumbled upstairs.

Reaching some bedroom, you didn't care who's it was, you dragged the man towards the bed.

But before you could throw him onto it, he suddenly whipped out of your grasp, the man slipping his neckerchief and seamlessly binding your hands with them, tying them behind your back before throwing you onto the bed.

The man, slipping his jacket off, working on his shirt as his tail slammed the door shut, his eyes the only thing visible, that and his golden tooth as he smirked a victors smirk.

You lay there, red faced, drunk and extremely aroused as the man climbed atop you, the clink of his belt being undone and the shimmer of his tail filling the air as he lean, the snake getting close, alcohol ladened breath on your neck as he growlwd out.

"Don't worry darlin', I'll make sure you enjoy this as much as I will~"

The man purring before he bit your neck, forcing a lewd moan from your lips.

•••

You awoke the next morning a mess.

You were sore.

You had more bite marks and hand shaped bruises on your ass then you cared to count.

Your hair was a total mess, clothes in tatters after being practically torn off you by the snake, and you were still recovering physically and mentally from everything that happened the night before.

You hissed as Bombproof bumped upwards, you clinging to Striker, the man being your only ride back to the homestead as your family had left the night before.

You didn't say anything, neither did Striker, though, the snake didn't need too.

The man simply wore a smirk, that smirk saying it all.

"I won."

And the annoying part, that was he was right.

Though even as you got home, hissing as you slid off the horse, gritting your teeth as you shambled back to the house. All the way there, able to feel the snake's gaze on your back.

And while you knew he'd be insufferable after this, likwly even more forward then ever the thing that really got to you, was knowing that there was no way this was gonna be the last time.

And even as you stumbled, collapsing atop your bed, body and rear sore, you wondered what came next with that smug sexy asshat of a snake man.

[storydays]

Hazbin Hotel: Episode 1 p1

Overture

@avatar_lover

(3rd POV)

"Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light. Angels that worshiped good and shielded all from evil. Lucifer was one of these angels. He was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation. But he was seen as a troublemaker by the elders of Heaven. 

For they felt his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world. So he watched as  the angels began to expand the universe in their ways. From the dust of Earth, they created Adam and Lilith. Equals as the first of mankind, but despite this, Adam demanded control and Lilith refused. 

Drawn in by her fierce independence, Lucifer found her and the two rebellious dreamers fell deeply in love. Together, they wished to share the magic of free will with humanity, offering the fruit of knowledge to Adam’s new bride, Eve, who gladly accepted.

But this gift came with a curse.

For with this single gift, evil finally found its way to Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin, and the order Heaven worked hard to maintain was shattered. As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucifer and his love into the dark pit he created, never allowing him to see the good that came from Humanity, only the cruel and the wicked. 

Ashamed, Lucifer lost his will to dream. 

But Lilith thrived, empowering a demon-kind with her voice and her songs. And as the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power. Threatened by this, Heaven made a truly heartless decision, that every year, they would send down an army: an extermination to ensure Hell and its sinners could never rise against them. 

But Lilth’s hope remained. And her dream was passed down to their precious children, the Prince and Princess of Hell.”

A pale hand closed the story book, as a young woman held a key close to her, looking downcast. “Don’t worry Mom, I’ll make you proud.” She whispered, gazing out the window, listening to the screams outside. 

“Charlie?” a voice called startling the young woman. “Augh!” she yelped, as her key turned into a cat, who ran away to hide. Charlie winced before turning to the other woman, “Vaggie! Did you hear all that?” she asked. 

“Uh, yeah. I was standing right there.” smiled the woman, pointing at the door. “Sorry, I get pretty worked up after an extermination happens. The story helps.” Charlie frowned, staring at the book. “I know, don’t worry. I enjoy your theatrics. Are you okay?” Vaggie asked, sitting next to the blonde demoness. “I’m fine, just–ya know thinking about family stuff.” “DId you hear your from your mom yet?” Charlie shook her head sadly. 

“Oof, how long has it been now?” 

“Not that long…only…..seven….years. Off doing something important, I’m sure.” Together the women stood up, to look outside the window. “But this kingdom was something she really cared about; something I care about.” Charlie hugged herself, smiling wistfully. 

“Well, at least you’re not alone.” Vaggie soothed, holding Charlie’s hands.”I just hope that what I’m trying to do here will work.” Charlie admitted. “It will. I have faith in you.” the white haired woman smiled, cupping Charlie’s cheek. 

“All right, come on. Alastor says he’s got something he wants to show us.” Vaggie walked out of the room, Charlie going to follow her, before hearing the church bell ring outside. She turned to look out at the clock as it rang, signaling the end of the extermination. Charlie sighed before heading downstairs. 

*Downstairs*

“Well, hello there, you wayward sinner!” A cheery voice, on the television, called out to a demon currently stabbing another on the street, making the two look around confusedly. “Do you like blood, violence and depravity of a sexual nature? Of course you do, that’s why you’re in Hell! But what would you say if there was a place that had none of that?” questioned the voice as more sinners popped up, varying emotions from annoyance to confusion. The camera then zoomed to reveal the hotel.

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! A misguided path to redemption!” the camera then pushed into Charlie’s personal space as she was mid conversation, before she noticed the camera and she smiled and waved nervously. A spider demon appeared behind her, using all four of his hands to give the demoness bunny ears behind her head and on the side. “Founded 5 days ago by Lucifer’s delusional daughter, Charlotte Morningstar! Come place your faith in her inexperienced hands as she tries to work through her daddy issues by fixing you!” 

The television showed a picture of Lucifer facing away from Charile as she hugged herself, tears in her eyes. Then it showed Charlie attempting to convince sinners to join. 

“Here we offer fun things! Such as somewhat functional staff.” The camera showed a grumpy cat demon who was clearly drunk as he face planted into the bar. A little cyclops woman scurried around him, chasing a bug with a giant needle in her arm, with a maniacal grin on her face, as she attempted to stab the bug.

“24 hour pest control! Custom rooms, and just look at this tacky parlor!” The camera panned out to show a piece of wood falling near the spider demon from earlier who was lounging on a couch, clearly bored as he examined his finger nails.  “Enjoy riveting conversation with our singular resident.”

The spider sent the camera a middle finger, making an effect of the word Wow appear on screen, changing to show a crudely drawing of the hotel with different notes and smiley faces with a large toothy grin. “Wow! All this and more at the Hazbin Hotel. Your last desperate attempt at salvation starts here!” On the screen, appeared: “Call now or don’t! I don’t care! We still don’t have a working phone!” 

The TV shut off as the audience in the room sat around, emotions varying from anger, shock, and disbelief. “So, what’d ya think?”asked a grinning deer demon, dressed head to toe in red and black. 

“I’m sorry, what the FUCK was that?” scowled Vaggie, arms crossed. “Uh, yeah, one note. Alastor…” Charlie started, ignoring how the demon’s smile tightened. “I mean, first off, thank you so much for making this, seriously, amazing, but um..” Charlie played with her fingers as she tried to explain her thoughts, “The tone was maybe a bit..off?” Alastor tilted his head as she continued. 

“We want people to WANT to come here. This makes it look–um..” “Bad. The word you’re looking for is bad.” Vaggie snarled, crossing her arms. 

“Funny, I was going for hilarious!” Alastor laughed. “It didn’t explain anything about how we’re trying to save demons, which is the whole fucking point!” 

“Vaggie is right, Alastor. The commercial was to let sinners know we are trying to save them.” called a smooth voice from another armchair. The male was sitting on the chair, his legs over the arm of the chair, and the cat from earlier purring in his arms, as he stroked her back. This was the Prince of Hell, Heir to the Throne, and Charlie’s big brother, (Y/N).

“Well, my dear (Y/N), I haven’t been active in Hell for some time, and everyone remembers me from my radio show. The proper way to express oneself!” Alastor turned to the TV with a clear disdain written over his ever grinning face.

“But you insisted on this noisy picture box advertisement. So I had a little fun with it.” “Oh fun, you had a little fun?” Vaggie snapped, before standing. “Well, this is not what we want to represent us. When you showed up here, a week ago, you told us you would help run this hotel. Instead, you’re mocking us. Nobody’s going to want to come to a place that a powerful Overlord like you thinks is a waste of time.” Vaggie hissed before the 4 noticed a red hand waving in the air. 

“What?” snapped Vaggie as (Y/N) started to walk towards the bar. 

“If’n you’re filimin’ a commercial, can I suggest you take advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?” The spider demon from earlier, sat up lazily, grabbing the bottle of alcohol with him, and winked at the people, gesturing to himself. 

“Angel, you’re a porn star.” Vaggie deadpanned.

“A famous porn star.” Corrected Angel, as (Y/N) came back and sat next to the spider, with a strawberry Daiquiri in his hand. 

“I’ll have the horniest sinners knockin’ down these walls to get in.” The white furred spider grinned smugly, before swinging his legs over (Y/N)’s lap, clearly comfortable. “We are not shooting a porn as a commerical.” Vaggie said firmly. 

“Why not? Sex sells, don’t it?” Angel winked. “I swear, if you film me going at it with Sexy Princey or Mr FancyTalk Creep Voice here, you’d be rollin’ in participants to stay at this tacky hotel.”. Alastor laughed loudly before deadpanning. “Haha! Never going to happen.”

The bespectacled prince cleared his throat nervously, cheeks a slight red as he tried to compose himself. “A-Angel, we appreciate you wanting to use your ‘special skills’ to, um, attract folks to the hotel. But I–WE, meant to say WE don’t want to exploit you in that way.” 

(Y/N) smiled at the spider demon who grinned, leaning into the prince’s space, close to his ear, and purred, “But what if I want you to exploit me……..Daddy?” “HAHA! OKAY!”

(Y/N) yelped, before using his wings to quickly fly up and over by the bar, startling Angel who then smirked knowingly at the demon. 

Turning towards the girls, Angel continued to talk, “This body was made to be exploited, baby. I’ve got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs, I got the lung capacity. Oh, oh! I have the legs, the gag reflex, the holes, the chest fluff everyone thinks are tits..”  Charlie laughed uncomfortably as Angel continued talking.

(Y/N)’s phone started ringing, making the prince roll his eyes and walk away, answering his phone. “I’ll be right back.” 

He turned the corner, and grinned deviously as he answered the phone, “What up, bitch!”

*Back with the others*

“Hey, I have a question. If freaky face over there is so powerful, then why can’t he just make people stay here?” Angel asked suddenly, pointing at Alastor.

“Oh trust me, I can.” Alastor grinned darkly, briefly showing his horns.

“Why do you think I’m here?” A gruff voice called from the bar, making everyone turn to the bar, towards the grumpy cat from earlier. 

“You think I’d be cleaning bottles and listen to you fucks’ bitch and moan, if he wasn’t forcing me.” The bartender hissed as the little cyclops appeared next to him, grinning. 

“I like being forced.” She giggled. 

“Keep that to yourself, Niff.” grimaced the cat demon. 

“What, you don’t love being here with me, Whiskers?” Angel mocked, making a kissy face. 

“Call me whiskers again, and I’ll jam that bottle down your throat.” the cat threatened.

“Kinky! C’mon, keep talking dirty.” grinned Angel, narrowing his eyes at the cat.

“Angel, let Husk do his job. And no, we can’t force people to stay here; they need to choose to.” Vaggie stated. 

“I’m choosing to be here, and I think it’s all stupid. We’re in Hell, toots.” Angel shrugged, “That’s kind of the end of the line, ain’t it?”

“Well, maybe it doesn’t have to be.” Charlie smiled. “Just because no one’s ever made it out, doesn’t mean it’s not possible.”

Angel placed a hand on Charlie’s shoulder as he leaned down to her height. “Hey, whatever means I can keep crashing here rent free.” The women shot him a deadpanned look, and he scowled. “Crack is expensive.”

(Y/N) quickly came and grabbed Charlie by the arm, grinning excitedly. “Char, come with me!” Charlie yelped as her brother pulled her around the corner. 

“Woah, (Y/N), what’s going on?”

“So the leader of the Angel Army wants to meet…and I managed to convince Dad to let me send you to talk to them instead.”

Charlie tilted her head. “Why me? You usually take care of stuff like that.”

“Because, Char, you are the princess of Hell,and I think you’re old enough to start partaking in stuff like this. And.. you can use this as an opportunity to try to convince Heaven to give your Hotel a chance. “ (Y/N) prompted. 

“Ooh! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Charlie hugged her brother before rushing to tell Vaggie. (Y/N) going to lean on the couch, as Vaggie questioned Charlie. “But the extermination just happened. What could they want this soon after?” 

Charlie started singing and twirled Vaggie who replied dizzily, “Okay but just don’t sing to them.”

“That bitch is half way down the street.” (Y/N) and Angel laughed, with the others looking out the door, watching the princess sing. 

“Is she–?” Vaggie asked, worriedly.

“Oh, she’s dancin’.” Angel tossed his head back, drinking the bottle in his hands, ignoring Vaggie’s groan.

[dollwrites]

— ⟡ dizzy drabbles disclaimer !!

all dizzy drabbles are written when i am extremely high ( or, dizzy ) and they don’t contain a trigger warnings list. if there’s no indication by the request, you can assume that the fic is nsfw + probably dark-leaning, if not blatantly dark. noncon, dub con, and other triggering content may be present, read with caution ( enjoy your experience <3 )

just think about being femto’s chosen pet.

a hawk that should’ve been sacrificed with the others, and yet you lived. your former leader, the same as your former lover, was gone and in his place stood a looming, dark winged angel of death. however, a soulless crimson gaze remains fixed on you for what seems like hours and hours. clawed hands wrapped around the large, domed cage he’s trapped you in, as if he wants nothing more than to rip the door off and grab you.

at first, you cried and beg to be freed. you call his name in desperate shrieks. “Griffith, please! Let me out!” but, eventually, you realize that it will do no good.

femto has no reaction to your begs for mercy. he is stoic and silent, with ever-watching eyes that follow your every move. he doesn’t try to stop you from pulling at the bars- no, bones, of your cage. oh no, femto reaches his shiny, black arm into your cage, sharp claws extended, grasping for you.

though, of course, you stumble to the back wall of the cage, it is nowhere near big enough to hide from him. you turn your face, feeling the very tips of his claws, like daggers, drag along the fleshiest section of your cheek. you whine at the sensation, certain that if he applied any pressure at all, his claws would pierce your cheek. one, large thumb hooks against your jaw, pulling your face back towards him. you squint, but your body is too weak to fight against his command, and with a small sound of protest, you look up at him. he towers over your cage by at least a full head and shoulders, but his face is leaned so close to the bars that it is nearly pressed against it— his feline eyes pinned out. he looked like a beast, and you were almost surprised that he didn’t snort like one. but, you’d noticed, that femto’s chest didn’t rise and fall with breath, at all.

his obsidian talons scrape along the shape of your jaw, his thumbnail dragging against your trembling, lower lip. you wonder, as you cower in front of this demon king, if there’s a single inkling of Griffith left within him. did he, somehow, recall the taste of the lips that he touched, now? there was a glittering possibility in his eyes. as if he were deep in thought as they focused on your lips. however, his pupils started to dilate the lower his gaze, and his claws, traveled. tearing open your top with ease— as if shredding old parchment.

your chest heaved, up and down with ragged breathing as you whined and begged him under your breath not to hurt you, but he wasn’t listening. by the time his massive palm envelopes your bare breast, his pupils were so blown out that they possessed the entire eye, making them abysmal pools of wicked intent. he teases your taut nipple with his thumb and forefinger, squeezing experimentally before the sharp end of the nails poke and prod at the bud, causing you to squirm and pant, nervous. they nick your flesh, whether he means to or not, and a thin stream of rubies drip from your chest, running down the length of your belly. you gasp, and try once again to recoil from him, but the closer you press yourself into the opposite side of the cage, the closer he leans, until his body is up against the bone bars, and they creak from his weight.

“Don’t… touch…” you whisper, desperately, but it’s much too late. closing your eyes as you feel his cruel fingers tread lower, smearing your own blood into your skin before they delve between your quivering legs. you try to close them, but even his fingers are too strong to defy, and they press against your tender button hard. “A-agh!” you’re forced to bite back the sound of discomfort, the tips of his talons scoring at your most vulnerable core, the slick pads of his fore and middle finger pushing at your nether lips to spread your pussy open. your thighs, shaking but wide, do little to cover the full view of your cunt to the monster, whose smile is faint, and his tongue flicks at his own, vermilion lips. with the length of his ring finger, he rubs between your folds, pulled apart to grant him the access that he wants, and you feel the pressure from every inch of his long, thick digit. “M-monster…”

it doesn’t seem to bother him. in fact, you wonder if he even heard you. his eyes glued to your cunt, his finger rubbing from your clit to your hole, that clenches unwilling at the rough treatment. you hate that your clit swells and throbs against his finger, and that when he realizes, he focuses all of the pressure there, until you’re moaning and squirming, with tears in your eyes.

you don’t want it to feel good, but it does.

you don’t want to cum, but you do.

and you don’t want that to seal your fate as femto’s fragile, little fuckdoll. but it does.

[arjudy224]

Batman x reader Gotham environmental intern

The Intern: Outreach Gala

Another uneventful day for Gotham's environmental intern...

Part 1- Day one

Part 2- The Joker Fish

Gotham's public library appears unrecognizable under the cloak of night. Broad leaves shroud the outside exterior of the Gothic pillars while ivy cascades down the large door frames. Harris raises an eyebrow.

"How many forests do you think Wayne destroyed in his quest to save the planet?" He questions with a smirk.

Each grey hair is perfectly gelled out of his face. Ditching his glasses for the occasion, Dr. Harris may actually care about tonight's guests. The bouncer outside the door seemed to think the dress code was not a laughing matter.

Taking his extended arm, I roll my eyes. The security guy nods to the two of us as we walk through the door.

"Professor, if you keep saying things like that Gordon's going to question your stances on Gotham's resident Eco-terrorist. " I whisper with a smile. "....but at least 12."

Thanks to the joint collaboration between Wayne Industries, Goth-corp, and the Gotham Department of Environmental Protection. Gotham City is hosting its first Environmental Outreach Gala for the nearby tri-state area. Unfortunately for me, they saddled the newest intern to do all the heavy lifting. Young joints and all that jazz. At least I got an invite. The invites ran out before the IT guy could get one. Poor Eddie.

My heart flutters a little bit as a realization hits me. I’m actually here… surrounded by giants in clean energy and the scientific community alike. Award-winning journalists... All for the future of our planet. Passing my reflection, I smile thinking of how far I’ve come from that little river rat back at home.

A figure in the corner of my eye draws my thoughts away from the Grandma debrief. Dick Grayson, the Billionaire’s son, charms the group of ladies by his side. I take a mental note to find time to talk to him when there isn’t such a big crowd. Having someone in Bruce Wayne’s ear might be an asset.

The walls echo with the idle chatter coming from the rich socialites of Gotham. Waiters in tuxedos maneuver silently with a tray of champagne flutes in each hand. Considering, that most environmental professionals wear cargo pants from the early 2000s to work... the dress code was definitely a choice. I scan the room for familiar faces. Gordon flashes me a smile from across the room. I nod back. The Mayor works his way around the room with a large smile. It must be an election year.

My throat gets tight. I'm not ready for this. Looking to my right, I find that Dr. Harris has vanished into the crowd.

"Y/N L/N?" A voice calls distracting me from my nerves.

A well-dressed man strolls over. Something about him puts me on edge. Maybe it's his wicked smile or the large emerald ring on his outstretched hand. He walks with an easy air of confidence.

"Lex Luthor."

My heart does a little tap dance in my chest. The tight fabric of my rental dress makes it hard to breathe. I shake his hand politely. The party-goers go quiet around us. From the corner of my eye, Lois Lane, an investigative reporter from Metropolis, shoves through the crowd. So much for being a fly on the wall.

"I recently worked with a Professor of yours. She had a lot to say about your graduate proposal."

This cannot be happening. Memories of those long fights in the lab flash in the back of my mind. Mr. Luthor's cat-like gaze observes my reaction curiously.

I cover my face in embarrassment. That woman deserves hate mail. I could have at least been asked to type or spell-check it beforehand.

"To be frank, I originally chose the topic to get a rise outta her. Dr. Hendrix had me doing dishes for 3 weeks straight after I accidentally messed up a sample, so I wrote a proposal I knew she wouldn't like."

When I finally uncover my face, Luthor stares down at me with an amused grin.

"Even so. I'd like to discuss potential funding opportunities in Metropolis. If this is something you would think up out of boredom, I'd love to see what you can do when you put your mind to it."

That brings a smile to my face.

"Really? Everyone who I've brought it up to has been apprehensive about researching Kryptionian radiation.

"We need more scientists to ask questions Ms. L/N. Even the ones, that people don't want to know the answer to. "

The sullen green glow draws my eye once again to Mr. Luthor's ring finger... Wait, that's not an emerald. That's Kryptonite.

"Is this a personal interest of yours?" I ask slowly glancing between his eyes and his ring.

"In some ways."

An unspoken conversation occurs when he notices my acknowledgement of his strange choice of jewelry. The silence only creates more questions. Why would you wear something you know is irradiated?

"I hope to hear from you soon." Mr. Luthor concludes after handing me a business card, "There is always a spot at Lexcorp for a future scientist with your talents."

I stand there in silence watching him leave. The sleek modern design of the card lists only the bare essentials: his name, office address, and contact information in silver lettering.

Four hours ago, I was hauling boxes for the decorating committee. Huh. A nearby waiter offers a champagne flute from the tray. Respectfully, I turn them down. This dress costs more than my rent.

“Oh no. Thank you. I am… working.”

"Does work-life balance not apply to interns?” A voice interrupts.

I try not to roll my eyes at the "intern" comment. The constant reminders of my status are getting old. Starting at his perfectly buffed dress shoes, my gaze drags along the fabric of his black designer suit. Dick Grayson sure does like to make an entrance. With his dark curls and friendly blue eyes, there's something familiar about him. I can't quite put my finger on it... Sipping on his drink, he waits for my response with a teasing grin. His energy is contiguous. I ignore his question to ask my own instead.

“Has anyone told you that you tend to appear out of nowhere?”

His striking eyes light up with a mischievous glint.

“You have no idea.” He laughs introducing himself, “I’m Dick Grayson.”

“So I’ve heard.” I joke gesturing to the envious eyes from across the room.

He raises a curious eyebrow.

“Good things I hope?”

Glancing around the room, I ignore the dozen eyes staring daggers in my direction. Academia can be such a bitch.

“Nothing too crazy: a few murders, unfounded accusations, and you might be an alien?”

Dick Grayson grimaces while tilting his head ever so slightly. He swirls his drink, yet doesn't take a sip.

“Sounds about right. Anything you believe? “

I pause... Do I play coy?

“I’m not sure an alien could do a quadruple summersault.”

Something flashes in his eyes that I don’t quite understand. For a moment, I wonder if I should have held my tongue. His suspicion morphs into the first genuine smile I've seen all evening.

“You’ve done your homework Ms. L/N.”

Before I can respond, a scream causes the ballroom to descend into chaos. Vines shoot out from under the floorboards while the native plants start attacking the guest. A woman with flaming red hair paces the floor. Her vines wrap around each person one by one…. A thorny bush springs out of a fallen leaf snagging my delicate rental dress.

Dammit Pamela. We talked about this.

Glancing at the bartender's horrified expression, I frown.

“I change my mind. I’ll have that drink now.”

[sweetwolfcupcake]

Secrets We Keep

Secret Garden

Category: Drabble

John Wick X Reader

Warning: Allusions (and mentions) to murder, subtle yandere traits and threats, intimidation.

Unedited

It was late, but sleep was the last thing on her mind. She simply laid on the bed, starring at the ceiling above, letting flashbacks and thoughts consume her while her wristwatch on the nightstand ticked.

A gift.

She wished she could cry this out but she felt heavy. Heavy and—-

The doorbell rang and her breathing stopped. She waited, holding her breath for a few moments.

The ringing of her doorbell invaded the otherwise quiet apartment once more. She sighed, feeling the echoes of her thumping heartbeat.

The doorbell rang again, accompanied by knocking this time. 

Letting out a shuddering breath, she jumped out of her bed and grabbed her housecoat, slipping in it as she padded towards the door. Looking through the peephole, she shut her eyes and sighed. 

She saw this coming.

Putting the chain-link on, she unlocked the door, allowing the light from the building corridor to flood in from the tiny gap.

“Hello (Y/N).” He stood tall, dark eyes staring down at her from the gap “I’m here just to talk.” 

His voice gave away nothing. Always quiet, polite and to the point. But she could not trust that now– could not trust him anymore– now that she knew.

“John, I saw nothing—”

“There won’t be a chain-link holding your door then.” He cut her off, only to sigh and soften his voice “I promise I just want to talk.”

“How do I trust that?” She felt bile rising to her throat as she spoke, struggling to keep her voice steady.

John leaned closer, making her flinch step away.

“Because if I wanted anything other than to just talk,  this chain-link or door, or any door, can do nothing to stop me.” His tone did not change, nor did his voice raise.

He was calm as ever and she knew that there was no lie in his words. Feeling cornered and stripped of any other option, she unlocked the chain-link, letting the tiny but sturdy chain hang against the door as it opened wide in a smooth motion.

John stepped into her home in silence before gently closing the door shut. Her hold on her phone tightened instinctively. Although it was in her pocket, she prayed that he took no notice of that.

He loomed over her, dressed like any other man she would pass by. A plain white shirt, a pair of denims and a leather jacket. No one could picture him killing a man with a pencil. But she saw him do that two nights ago, and it would never be the same between them.

She had spent the last two days, terrified and paranoid. It was only a matter of time before he came for her, and there he stood, looming over her– the grim reaper dressed as a civilian. But even if his deep, brooding eyes pinned her down without giving away an ounce of his thoughts, she could at least try to evade her demise.

“John, I will forget everything I saw. I promise, I will not report you, not spill anything about it—”

“It doesn’t matter.” 

She flinched when he switched on the lights, illuminating the room. Under the light, she realised, he looked slightly less ominous. More human. His eyes remained brooding but she thought she saw it soften slightly. 

No, it had to be the lighting.

He sighed, looking away for a moment before meeting her eyes again. “I did not want you to find out like this.” 

No, if he could, she would have never found out what he did for a living.

“But now that you know, I want to come clean. So that we can start anew.”

(Y/N) gulped. Starting anew was out of question. After whatever she had witnessed, she wanted to do nothing with John, no matter how much it would pain her. Maybe love was not for her. 

“John…I thought it wasan understood fact that…” she trailed of, licking her lips as a frown settled on his face.

“What?”

“That—you know after what I saw and—I don’t think we shouldseeeachotheragain.” she hurried through words, scrambled through thoughts all the while trying not to shake under his gaze.

He sligthlty titled his head. His eyes gleamed under the lighting in a way that distinctly reminded her of the carnage he was capable of. 

“No.”

There was no question mark, or even uncertainty. He was declaring, not questioning. And that made her hold tighten over her phone.

“John I—”

“I know you’re scared right now.” he contemplated aloud “I understand. But we are still, very much one–together.” His voice lowered, but there was a sharpness to it.

Like he was waiting. Waiting to pounce.

She gulped, feeling beads of sweat appearing on her nose and above her lips. She waited with bated breath. But he only gazed down at her for a long moment, until she looked away, unable to look into his eyes any longer. The longer she looked, the more it remind her of…of the night.

“I will get going for now. Get some rest, Love.” He spoke after a long, tense pause.

And for the first time since his visit she felt she could breath in relief. She heard the sound of opening of her apartment door–

“I will see you tomorrow, at the cafe around the corner.” he declared, making her look at him.

He was clearly not done with her.

“Also…There is no use of calling the police. It won’t make any difference.” His gaze dropped to her pocket where she held the phone.

Her throat was suddenly parched as she met his unreadable gaze before he gently shut the door behind him.

*****

So, what do you think?