#that stupid witch fic

[karlachismylife]

Whenever I meet people that can only identify the most basic types of relationships like "friends", "lovers", MAYBE if I'm lucky "mentor and mentee" or even "found family" (just don't get me started on the whole "if they're sworn brothers, romantic relationship between them is incest" spiel), every time I honestly am sad for them.

I can't imagine my life without being achingly in love with a witch girl from my pack, knowing she loves me back just as well as I know we will never share more than a single cheek kiss, myriads of minutes spent holding hands and countless poems I wrote and she kept. This is not friends or lovers, this is love that exists in its own way.

I can't imagine my life without sighing after a pretty Arlequin with the most beautiful eyebrows and a cheeky grin, knowing you will never be on the same level and being genuinely happy to stay like a loyal adoring dog at his feet. This is not friends or mentor and mentee, this is love that exists in its own way.

I can't imagine my life without latching onto a big brother that didn't know your name when you already sensed he's going to be your big bro in the frightening new step of your life. Knowing it won't be as special for him, but he'll be the best big brother you could ask for, after you strike a conversation by telling him a fun fact about whale songs. This is not friends or found family, this is love that exists in its own way.

I can't imagine my life without feeling like broken mirror shards laying on the asphalt of a secluded town outskirts road, soaked in someone's rain and knowing that this person you call himinn minn will forever be just that - your unreachable, elusive rainy summer sky. Even in a cold, lonely winter. Exchanging words of love and hot whispers, feverish fantasies over their portaits, talking into the void they left after disappearing - and still knowing it all was the most beautiful of loves shared mutuially. This isn't lovers, this is my sea being in love with their sky, and this love exists in its own way.

I can't imagine my life without running away from the dystopian reality of grey panel buildings and people talking to butchers, so fucking alone, cold and filled with bitter cigarette smoke, only to find myself a hundred years back, in the body of a Silver Age poet falling in love with a fellow runaway in Paris, the one that hears him when no one else does. Knowing the promise "Я все равно тебя когда-нибудь возьму — одну или вдвоем с Парижем." is just that, a promise, and it's enough. This is not friends or lovers, this is love that exists in its own way.

Yearning, devotion, solace, connection, accidents that stay with you for life, worshipping, inspiring, leading, soothing, peace, rebellion. Heart bursting with acrylic paints and calm humming of a habit.

There are so many ways people get with other people. I pity those that had only ever known the basics, but I do hope that they're happy like this.

I am happy with my collection of people that I can only ever name by their nicknames, because I can never refer to them as friends, lovers, internet acquaintances.

[verfound]

FIC: "Scales are for Adornment" (MLB; Lukanette; LBSC Lukanette Month 2024; Winters)

@lovebugs-and-snakecharmers is doing a Lukanette Month for September 2024, and we all just kinda tossed some prompts in the disco to compile a list?  We ended up with 71 prompts, so I decided I’d roll some dice to pick a prompt, do a twenty minute (ish, bc we all know sometimes they run away from me) sprint, and try to get some short fics out this month?

(...how many days are we into this before these two popped up? 😂 Thank Bloody. She's been sharing some WIP art that got me itching. 🖤)

Read on Ao3

Prompt 33: Scales

There was a soft noise, a tinkling like chimes, barely perceptible on the far edges of his awareness.  It was just enough to be distracting.  Just enough to draw him from the warmth and softness and comfort of sleep.

…just enough to make him aware of how empty his arms – their nest – was.

A giggle floated on the breeze, making him twist and reach for his missing mate.  She wasn’t where she was supposed to be.  The bedding beside him was painfully empty.  Cold.  The chimes sounded again, and his brow furrowed.

His eyes felt too heavy as he struggled to open them, which…wasn’t fair.  It wasn’t even winter.  It was still early in the spring, and he supposed close enough to the end of his brumation that the lethargy was expected, but it was still…frustrating.

Hadn’t he spent enough time sleeping over the winter?

Wasn’t it time for him to be awake?  Up and about and enjoying his new mate?

She was at the kitchen table when he finally hauled himself out of the nest and to her side.  Scattered around her on the top were…pebbles?  No.  They were…he rubbed his eyes, squinting at the familiar teal shapes glinting in the afternoon light.

“I don’t recall you sleeping this much last summer,” she said, distracting him from the objects on the table.  She had turned towards him on the bench, her arms wrapping around his middle.  Her fingers danced along the line where scales met skin at his back, scratching lightly – and gods, did that feel good…

“I don’t, not u…usually,” he said around a yawn.  “I think ssssomeone’s worn me out.”

“Hey!” she laughed, leaning back to glare at him.  It was half-hearted at best, and there was a grin dancing on the corners of her mouth he longed to kiss away.  “You can’t possibly blame me when you’re the one who always starts it!”

“I do not recall sssstarting it lasssst night,” he hummed, dipping to kiss her.  He sighed as her nails scratched along his scales, but then he winced when a nail caught and…tugged.  She pulled away in surprise, her eyebrows lifting as she held up…oh.  “Ah.  Sssso that’sssss what’sss happening.”

“Luka?” she asked, looking up at him.  She laid the scale on the table, and he realized that’s why the things were so familiar.  And gods, how much had he been shedding that she had that many to…just what was she doing with his old scales, anyway?

“Why do you…what are my sssscales doing on the table, love?” he asked, picking up one of the older ones.  He had never paid much attention to them, once they were gone.  They were just something to clear out of the bedding when his new skin came in.  But it appeared Marinette had been collecting them – had amassed quite the collection, from the looks of it – and they were…hard.  Almost like stones, or the shells his sister used to collect along the seaside.

“They’re beautiful, don’t you think?” she asked, smiling as the scale he was holding caught the light and gleamed.  He looked at her, amused.  He had never thought so, but he had never been a particularly vain snake.  Unlike his father.  “I just…there’s so many of them.  I thought…I don’t know.  They were too pretty to just toss away.”

“I probably shhhould have warned you,” he said.  “I shhhed, in the sssspring.  It’ssss…you might ssssee it as a ssssummer cold?  It’ssss natural, and I confesssss I’d barely thought of it thissss year.  With…everything.”

“…if I wasn’t so worried about you saying you’re getting sick, I’d have words for you for that,” she said, frowning.  He sank onto his coils beside her and pulled her into another kiss.  She frowned as she pulled back.  “No.  No distractions.  You’re getting sick?”

“I will be fine, love,” he said.  “Jusssst…a little groggy.  Ssssore.  Really itchy.  It only lasssstssss a few days, and when it’ssss over I have a nicccce, shhhiny new sssskin.”

She hummed, unconvinced, but he just kissed her again.

“Now, tell me,” he said.  “What are you planning to do with my sssscales?”

“I’m not sure yet,” she said, looking back at the table.  She grinned at him.  “Let’s call it a surprise, shall we?”

He rolled his eyes before he decided she’d maybe had enough time with her little project.  He scooped her up and pulled her back against him, and she laughed until he bent her back with another kiss.  She always said nothing helped a creative block like a little distraction, after all, and he was quickly becoming her favorite distraction…

. : .

The next week was…unpleasant, at best.  Excruciating at worst.

He had perhaps downplayed how bad his yearly shedding could be – though that was perhaps just another stupid snake thing he had never fully considered warning his witch mate about.  The worst had been the day she’d come home from the market to find him passed out – and barely breathing – in the nest.  He had been fine, of course – his body just…slowed, a bit, as his skin shed.

(…then of course had been the actual skin, which…)

(…ok.  He owed her.  Big time.)

(…the way she had spent most of that first night just…running her hand over his new scales had been heaven, though.  If he was a cat he probably would have spent the whole damn night purring.)

(…he did, however, feel terrible that the intimacy had been caused not because she’d wanted to touch him but more because he’d scared her – terrified her, nearly caused her poor heart to give out on her, you awful snake – so.)

Still.

It was behind them now, and she’d be better prepared next year (“…oh my gods you do this every spring.”), and it was too glorious a day to be concerned with how awful the past week had been.  The sun was high in the sky, and he had an entire tail of fresh, shiny scales eager to soak up its warmth.

“Are you not joining me, love?” she called from the riverbank below.  He tipped his head back onto the rocks, smiling lazily at her.

“Perhapssss…” he paused, clearing his throat as she grinned at him.  “Perhaps you could join me up here?”

“Tempting,” she said, reaching behind her to undo the laces of her dress, “but I worked so hard on my new swimsuit…I was hoping to show it off today.”

“You don’t need a swimsuit, love,” he said, turning to frown at her.  “You’re jusssst fine without…”

And then her dress fell to her ankles.

And he saw exactly what she had been so busy with over the last week while he’d been busy writhing in itchy agony.

Or…rather what use she had decided to put his old scales to.

Her swimsuit.

If it could even be called that!

He had seen her swim clothes the previous summer – had seen what her friend Mylène considered ‘swimwear’!  That…those…the skimpy garments barely covering her bits were underthings at best.  And barely, at that!

(“It’ssss called lingerie, you dumbassssss,” a sardonic voice that sounded suspiciously like his sister hissed in his head.)

…not that he was complaining!  It was…it was…a bra and panties.  That yes, kept her covered, but it could hardly be considered decent.  By human standards, at least.  Rose would probably…

…it was probably best they didn’t tell Rose about this one.  She’d demand one for herself in Juleka’s scales, probably, and he…did not want to think about that.  Eugh.

On Marinette, though…

His old scales had been woven together, and they shone like polished shells in the sunlight.  She was beautiful.  She was always beautiful, but there was something about seeing her wearing his scales like that that sparked something almost primal in him.  He wanted…he needed to…he ached for…

“Luka?” she called, frowning, and he realized with a start that he had been silent – gobsmacked – just a moment too long.

…that start also made him slip, his hands sliding along the slick rocks and losing their balance.  He tumbled tail over head with a mighty splash into the river, and he was barely aware of Marinette screaming after him as he plunged below the surface.  When he finally regained himself, pushing himself up from the bottom of the river to swim towards the surface and breaking through with a strangled gasp, Marinette was waiting for him.

“Luka!” she cried, slipping her hands along his sides and under his armpits to hoist him up.  They bobbed there, Luka watching her with wide, startled eyes, and Marinette staring back with panic in her own, and he blinked slowly as he tried to process what in the seven hells had just happened.  “Gods, are you all right?  What just happened?  What was that?”

“I…” he started, but he trailed off because he honestly didn’t know.  One minute he had been staring at her, wearing his…and then his eyes dropped, his gaze focusing on the breasts bobbing in the water beneath him.  On the teal scales shimmering along their edges, hugging them and holding them up as perfectly as…

“Luk…” she started as he bent his head to her chest, her voice cutting off in a soft gasp as his nose skimmed along the edge of a cup.  His hand found her side, moving slowly up until it was holding the breast he was nuzzling – and then he pushed it up as he grazed his fangs along the soft, wet skin available to him.  His fangs caught on the edge of the his scales, and he hissed softly as a breathy giggle left her.  “I…I take it you like it?”

“That…is an undersssstatement,” he sighed, nuzzling her chest.  “How…when did you…?”

“I am very talented with a needle and thread,” she said, reaching up to brush her fingers through his hair, “and you have been very sleepy lately.”

“Did I truly shhhed thissss much?” he asked, glancing up at her.  She hummed, arching her back to push her chest closer to his mouth.  His other hand slipped along her back, reaching up to toy with the ties holding the top together.  He was torn, though, between his desire for more of her skin and the sight of his scales gleaming against that skin.

“I’ve been collecting them for a while,” she said.  “Honestly, Luka.  The nest is littered with them.”

“Ssssorry,” he chuckled, nipping at the mark above her heart.  The skin was starting to scar over, what with how often he bit her there.  He felt he should feel guilty about that, and yet…

It was the same as that part of him that thrilled at seeing her new underthings.  Swimwear.  A little primal voice that hissed mine.

“You are not,” she giggled, nipping at his ear.  He hissed when she licked it, smiling.  “So.  You love it, then?”

“I love you,” he sighed, lifting her slightly to give him more access.  She hummed, the sound cutting off in a gasp as his claws lightly scratched along her back.  As he settled his face between her breasts and took a moment to just…be.  To breathe her in.  Bask in the fact that she was there and his and…

“So…so who’s starting this one?” she giggled breathlessly when he turned his head to run his tongue along the inside of a breast.  He glanced up at her, grinning as he tugged on the tie and slipped the cup just a little lower.  Just enough for her nipple to slip out – just enough to flick his tongue against it with a hiss.

“You,” he insisted, cupping her ass and pulling her against him to grind up.  She slipped along his wet scales, her legs scrabbling to lock around him, but from her gasp he knew she had felt the point he was attempting to make.  “Looking like thissss, little mousssse…looking the way you always do…it is always you.”

She wasn’t sure when he had spun them, when he had pressed her back up against the rocks – when his tail had wrapped around her middle to hoist her up – but his mouth was working its way down, nibbling along her ribs and towards her stomach while her hands twisted in his hair.  Her head tipped back, her mouth dropping open as his fangs grazed along her skin.

“In…incorrigible,” she breathed, sighing as his fingers toyed with the waistband of her bottoms.

“For you?” he hummed, glancing up at her with a slow, satisfied smile.  “Always.”

[bugeyedfreaks]

It’s the PPG witching hours so this is probably why I feel compelled to write this but also because that last ask has inspired me…

…I am always on the lookout for PPG fanfictions that people think I may enjoy, so… just to let everyone know if you did not already… I am always open to recommendations…

[eri-pl]

\* If this gets more than 1 vote, I'll be surprised, but adding this option anyway. Well ok maybe it gets votes not only as "I don't want anything bad to happen to the Nazgul ever" and also for "that's a really [something] fic idea, I don't want it".

[crows-of-buckets]

I need to draw my rook bc I actually do have some ideas for them I just. Have NOT been in a creating mood idk I'm so tired... Aoughgggh

[redfish-blu]

Another chapter of this shit went up just now. No it hasn’t been over two months since I updated it idk what you’re talking about. Also no I didn’t plan for the chapter about The Witch to drop on WFW it just happened.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

would you make a Klaus fic, where he and reader are under a sex spell? just a sex magic fic, you can decide on the plot🥰

love your fics btw💕

Warning:Dubcon cause sex pollen, talk and use of sex toys, desperate/passionate fucking, needy Hybrid sex, brief realization of Yandere behavior at the end

‘You’re joking!’ I exclaimed, unable to unhear what Bonnie had just told me.

‘No, not at all. We need to keep you away from everyone else because this spell can potentially effect others who come in contact with you. Caroline has already said you can stay in her parents cabin, Damon is taking you there now.’ She shooed me out of the room and outside to Damon’s car.

‘Get in the back!’ He snapped as I moved to slide into the passenger seat. ‘I don’t need this shit effecting me next-‘

‘Why can’t I just stay in the cell in the basement? That way I won’t be alone…I’m scared-‘

‘Because Klaus was hit by that shit too, we don’t know if he knows what it was yet and with how desperate he is for you every other day without being bewitched, I can’t even imagine what he would do with you now.’ He explained as if I were a small stupid child and I wanted to hit him desperately.

A warlock coming after Elena (as always) for Doppelgänger blood for one of his spells had attacked us. I had grabbed a potted plant outside of the Grille and cracked it over his head which gave Elena enough time to run and find Damon, though as he whirled around to me there was suddenly an angry Hybrid standing in front of me which gave the Warlock pause.

Klaus had seemingly taken an interest in me as soon as he arrived in town and while I don’t encourage him, I’m also not cruel or mean either, which seemed to make him think he had a chance.

The man reached into his jacket and pulled out a small spell bag before dumping some pink powder into his hand and blowing it at the both of us. I couldn’t help but inhale it, only breathing in more when I began choking and hearing Klaus do the same, my eyes and nose burning as I felt his hands holding onto me. Though he was still coughing himself he checked on me (which I found very sweet), hands on my face and inspecting me before brushing the powder off of me leading to me returning the favor. He had no clue what it was and neither did I but after a quick thanks I left to find my friends and a witch to tell me what the fuck I just inhaled.

Turns out we had both been choking on a very powerful potion that people had dubbed “Sex Pollen”. Many witches used to use it several hundred years ago but most stopped once people began insisting that it led to way too many people becoming effected (since all you needed to do was injest a drop) and ending up sexually assaulting whoever came across their path. The potion is typically in a liquid form but talented witches can make it in a powder, however it is about ten times more potent.

‘Stay here, theres food and water, TV, books. Everything you could possibly need. Caroline also bought you some…play things…to help. God this is so gross, they’re in the bedroom. Get out of my car-‘

‘No! How long do I have to stay here?!’ I snapped making him roll his eyes.

‘Bonnie said in the powder form it can take several hours to kick in but it lasts a few days, though with how much you breathed in probably a week at least. Go! Before you infect me too and we really have a problem!’ I grabbed the bag that Elena had packed me and slid out of the car, walking inside and locking the door behind me with a heavy sigh.

‘Fuck All Of You Assholes!’ I screamed, hating my friends for abandoning me just so they wouldn’t suffer as well before I looked around the cabin, finding the bedroom with a large California King that was quite comfortable. I also came across a basket on the bed which contained a rechargeable wand, a 7 inch pink suction cup dildo, a butt plug and a bottle of salted caramel flavored lube. ‘Why The Fuck Was She So Thorough?!’

I set the basket aside and stripped out of my shirt and jeans as I began feeling warm, climbing into the bed under the sheet and deciding to try and take a nap before I get hit with killer horniness.

The nap didn’t last more than an hour before I woke up rolling around restlessly, my body sweating now as a hot feeling in my stomach began intensifying. I couldn’t tell you how long I laid there writhing in misery before I heard a loud knock at the door, instantly hating the world that much more.

‘What are you doing here?!’ I snapped as I finally dragged myself to the front door, moody and uncomfortable which made me unable to be kind.

‘I thought I would come and assist you. Wouldn’t want you suffering through this alone, now would we?’ Klaus asked, looking every bit as put together as always but I could see in his eyes how desperate he was. I could also see his impressive bulge tenting his jeans.

‘How did you find me? I was-never mind. Go away Klaus!’ I groaned, moving to shut the door.

‘I followed Damon, he wasn’t very careful, my guess is he didn’t much care if I found you. They just wanted you away from them before they had to suffer too, your friends that you protected sent you away to save themselves. Seems really selfish to me.’ Any other day I would disagree but with how I was feeling I couldn’t argue with him, prompting me to agree.

‘You’re right…Fuck them! Couldn’t even put me downstairs! Had to leave me all alone!’ I raged as I was overcome by a cramping pain straight down to my pussy causing me to double over.

‘Invite me in Love, let’s help each other? It’s going to be days with only brief hours of relief between…let me help you get some relief?’

‘Klaus, I can’t-‘

‘You want me just as much as I want you, don’t lie!’ He growled, eyes glowing gold now as he showed how desperate he really was, so far gone that he wasn’t able to hide it anymore.

‘It’s just this stupid magic-‘

‘No! No, I’ve wanted you since I first set eyes on you, and you…you need me too.’ His hand reached down to grab his crotch, pupils nearly swallowing his entire eye whole. ‘I can make your pussy feel so good baby, you need me! Who else could go anywhere near as long as a Hybrid, huh?’ He was right, if anyone could help me it was Klaus, especially with how pent up he is himself. ‘Please Y/n? I need to be buried in your little cunt, and you know you need it too! Your fingers can’t help you the way my cock can and I know you’ve dreamt of my cock in your needy little pussy since long before this ever happened-Fuck! I Need You! Please?!’ He begged and as I felt a rush of wetness coat my panties I whined, nodding my head. ‘Say it Y/n…Say It!’

‘Come in Klaus! Please?! I need-‘ I didn’t get to finish my statement before I was tackled to the floor with the Hybrid yanking his pants open and shoving them down enough to free himself before tearing my panties off of my body and shoving himself into me roughly.

‘So Fucking Perfect! Knew your cunt would be perfect! Tightest little cunt-Fuck! Never gonna stop fucking you baby!’

‘Yes! Don’t Stop! Fuck Klaus, your cock! So good!’ Tears leaked from my eyes as he continued thrusting into my body. The sound of skin slapping together echoing through the house and out the front door that hung on one hinge from where the Hybrid had nearly ripped it off as he entered. ‘Oh Fuck!’ I threw my head back against the carpet as my first orgasm rushed through me out of nowhere, only realizing he had finished with me when I felt the hot cum inside of me as he continued thrusting, never once even slowing down.

‘I need to feel you squeeze me again Babygirl, cum for me! Cum for your Alpha!’ The second orgasm was just as strong as the first as I came and felt his body tense up as well before he finally stilled, breathing heavily into my neck.

‘I think…we’re in trouble…’ I panted heavily and he chuckled before looking down at me, hesitating only a second before pressing his lips to mine in a soft, lovely kiss. ‘Don’t stop.’ I insisted when he pulled back, grabbing onto his neck and pressing my lips to his this time as I enjoyed our kiss.

‘This isn’t how I wanted it to happen, I wanted to take you on a date, show you how much I love you…then I was going to fuck you…wanted to make you feel so good you would never leave me again-‘

‘It’s okay, you’ve just done it backwards…you can still take me out, just after this is over because I don’t think people would appreciate you fucking me over our table.’ I teased, enjoying the genuine smile that I got from him, only ever seeing it when he looks at me which has always made me feel special.

‘That’s the spell talking-‘

‘I liked you before that you idiot! I just never really thought you were all that serious.’ I admitted, pushing him up and feeling his (once again) hard cock slide out of me as he helped me stand up.

‘How could you think that? I’ve gone out of my way to show you-your friends told you I was using you, didn’t they?’ I nodded and he huffed a heavy sigh before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me into a rough kiss. ‘I love you, regardless of any doppelgänger or your awful friends. After all of this I will take you out properly, I promise…but until then-‘

‘No! No more floor fucking, there’s furniture and a bed here for a reason, no more carpet, it hurts.’ I explained, feeling the rug burn against my back and ass.

‘No more rugs, but I need you now.’ He growled, lifting me by my thighs and appearing in the bedroom instantly, dropping me onto the bed. Just as he spread my legs he paused, glancing over to the table and reaching out to grab the basket with the things Caroline had left. ‘What-‘

‘Caroline left them for me. I guess she wanted to help me since I’m all alone.’

‘Interesting…does she know you well, or not?’ He wondered, picking up the butt plug and raising his eyebrows making me blush as my body started sweating.

‘Klaus! Stop the teasing and get inside me! The cramps are starting, so if you’re not going to help me then get the Fuck out and I’ll do it my-Ah!’ I cried out, feeling the rounded end of the plug pressing to my tight hole and rubbing against it. ‘Oh God!’ Klaus took the lube bottle and squeezed a healthy amount onto the plug before tossing it to the other side of the bed and pressing it back against my ass.

‘Relax Precious, this is going to make it feel so much better!’ He promised, pushing the plug harder until it popped into my hole. Klaus could feel his cock throbbing even harder at the sight of the jewel on the end of the plug. ‘You are so fucking perfect! How do you fee-‘

‘Klaus! Please?!’ I begged, pulling him closer and yanking at his shirt before getting it off and sighing in relief at the feel of his hot skin against mine.

Klaus shoved his jeans and boxers the rest of the way off, finally naked as well before taking hold of his cock and pushing himself back inside of me. ‘There you are love, feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Both of your slutty little holes stuffed up?’

‘T-Too much-Never-‘

‘Never been so full before, I know Baby! I-Fuck!’ Suddenly as if he could no longer control himself he began thrusting into me frantically. ‘Mine! My Fucking Cunt!’ He snarled, Hybrid visage taking over as he fucked into me so hard I briefly wondered if he could shatter my pelvis like this.

‘Yes! Yours! All yours, don’t stop! Please don’t stop?!’

Y/n couldn’t have said how long Klaus continued like that. How long he thrust into her cunt at a painful speed, how many times the both of them had climaxed together while he still continued to fuck his (somehow still) hard cock into her, she couldn’t even say how many times he had buried his fangs into her throat in an effort to mark her as his like a werewolf marking his mate…and maybe he was. Odds are she was never getting away from him now-not that she wanted to.

It was a week later that Damon finally came back to the house to check on her finding the front door ripped open.

He ventured inside, not hearing anything and figuring that it was over for Y/n and who was inevitably Klaus that had torn the door off the hinges. He was prepared with jokes galore for the the drive back, excited to pick on the young girl for giving into the monster that had been after her for months but sadly he never got to use those jokes.

Damon opened the door to the bedroom to find his girlfriends friend snuggled into Klaus Mikaelson’s naked chest fast asleep. The Hybrid however seemed to have awoken as soon as he turned the doorknob, his yellow eyes finding his with an intensity that he had never seen. He bore his fangs, lifting his head and Damon (one of the only people who had never truly feared Klaus Mikaelson) was instantly terrified. It was like a bucket of ice water dumped on him, alarm bells ringing in his head declaring the danger that he is in prompting him to throw up his hands instantly. As Klaus moved to sit up, the young vampire shut the door promptly and hightailed it back to his car, peeling back down the driveway.

He doesn’t know how long that stuff will take to wear off but it definitely hasn’t yet and he would not be disturbing them again!

Y/n and Klaus were in the house for nearly 2 weeks before they felt as if their bodies were back to normal though they stayed for another week after that. No one could have imagined how close such a spell would bring them…no one except Klaus of course.

The witch he had hired to make that powder had done a wonderful job, money well spent in the Hybrids mind. The spell had worked better than he ever could have imagined and it had gotten him exactly what he wanted.

The only thing left to do was to kill the witch that had helped him and ensure that his mate never learned that he was the one who had dosed her.

He finally had his girl, he couldn’t let something so trivial ruin it.

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

[outoftheseine]

-AZRIEL “THE SHADOWSINGER” FIC RECS-

i am so obsessed with him it is not even funny | note: please be aware of the authors’ warnings before reading. fics include canon tw’s like: violence, death, grief. some fics have 18+ content so minors please DNI.

main masterlist

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

the trials of aphrodite • azriel x fem!reader

↳ by @milswrites (unrequited love, so much pining)

unrequited love | part two • azriel x reader

↳ by @lyssasdrafts (angst)

a field of dandelions • azriel x witch!reader

↳ by @prythianpages (made my heart warm, some angst, smut)

bloodied bonds | sinner’s sacrifice • azriel x rhysand’s sister!reader

↳ by @ellievickstar (hanahaki au, angst)

if it all fell • azriel x reader

↳ by @pellucid-constellations (angst, comfort, i feel for azriel :()

the silent one | 2 | 3 | 4 | azriel x fem!oc

↳ by @feyreswaterybowels (found family, slowburn, angst, fluff, comfort, mute!oc, tw: past sa)

lonesome | part 2 • azriel x reader

↳ by @assassinsblade (angst)

ocean eyes • azriel x reader

↳ by @redheadspark (very fluffy, angsty at times, smut, dad!azriel)

crush • azriel x reader

↳ by @writingcroissant (so so fluffy, smut)

i laugh like me again… she laughs like you | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 • azriel x reader

↳ by @azrielbrainrot (very angsty, grief, violence, torture)

was any of it true? | full throttle | alt. ending • badboy!azriel x goodgirl!reader

↳ by @flickering-chandelier (modern au, angst, happy ending, smut)

pushed to the edge • azriel x seer!reader

↳ by @stormhearty (oh boy hurt me so good)

baker!reader x azriel

↳ by @imaginesmai (so fluffyyy)

and so, the stars aligned | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 • azriel x archeron!reader

↳ by @offthepages

finding home • azriel x fem!reader

↳ by @parkerslatte

sweet like sugar • azriel x reader

↳ by @writingsbychlo (fluff, angst, smut)

ONE-SHOTS - BLURBS - HC’S

tiny shadows • azriel x reader

↳ by @xmalfoyweasleyx (fluff)

his shadows know • azriel x reader

↳ by @daycourtofficial (fluff)

he feels safe with you • azriel x reader

↳ by @florencemtrash (warm, fuzzy fluff)

the quiet between • azriel x fem!reader

↳ by @thewulf (mean!az, angst, fluff)

you drew stars around my scars • azriel x reader

↳ by @flickering-chandelier (fluff, slight angst)

arcane • azriel x death god!reader

↳ by @serpentandlily (fluff, tw: alludes to sa)

butterfly kisses • azriel x fem!reader

↳ by @itsswritten (fluff, suggestive)

threads of hazel • azriel x fem!reader

↳ by @itsswritten (oh beautiful angst)

laborious activities • azriel x reader

↳ by @writingcroissant (fluff and labour things)

marriage-life • azriel x reader

↳ by @delulustateofmind (sooo fluffy)

baby blanket • azriel x reader

↳ by @sapphicmsmarvel (fluff)

implode • azriel x fem!reader

↳ by @daydreaming-nerd (really angsty)

blinded • azriel x reader

↳ by @lady-of-tearshed (oh so angsty, unrequited love)

scartlet-tipped secrets; peonies, for you • azriel x fem!reader

↳ by @angelshadowsinger (hanahaki au, unrequited love, angst)

totally annoying and not funny at all • azriel x reader

↳ by @sillymercury (fluff, little angst, literally idiots in love)

never yours • azriel x reader (lucien x reader)

↳ by @really-fanny-longbottom (angst, stupid azriel tbh, fluff)

let me keep you company • azriel x reader

↳ by @utterlyazriel (so so fluffy)

you found me • azriel x reader

↳ by @pit-and-the-pen (angst, blood, comfort)

pretty little shadowsinger • azriel x reader

↳ by @illyrianbitch (fluff)

happy ending • azriel x fem!reader

↳ by @milswrites (fluff and a little angst)

pancake • azriel x reader

↳ by @acotarxreader (fluff, comfort, tw: panic attack)

domestic bliss • azriel x fem!reader

↳ by @bat-boys (very fluffy, slightly suggestive)

and yesterday you were here with me • azriel x reader

↳ by @dawneternal (angst, comfort, tw: miscarriage)

(what if?) all i need is you • azriel x fem!reader

↳ by @empiresofstorm (whipped azriel, comfort, fluff)

baby mine • azriel x reader

↳ by @thisblogisaboutabook (angst, comfort, fluff, tws: sa and trauma)

calypso • azriel x reader

↳ by @solbaby7 (fav kind of female rage, mentions of blood)

the girl who cheated death • azriel x fem!reader

↳ by @utterlyotterlyx (fluff)

the tormented & the unforgiven • azriel x reader

↳ by @lucysstoryworld (very angsty, graphic torture)

tattoos older than you • azriel x archeron!reader

↳ by @surielstea (age-gap, suggestive)

“you were flirting with me?” • azriel x fem!reader

↳ by @thehighladywrites (suggestive, fluff, humour)

[juno-verse]

Hold Me

Summary: Wanda tries to make you forget about your difficult day at work. She succeeds.

Men and minors, please stay away.

Praise, Dom!Wanda, Bondage, Using her magic FOR GOOD, her hands that's it, brief mention of more sex after, ONE Mistress

Random A/N: If you're wondering what happened to the succubus!reader fic, well, I've been overthinking the plot for the last two years. It's why I've been stuck with the second chapter and never getting satisfied with it. Turns out, I'm horrible with plots and I overthink story continuity and possible plot holes. I'm open to ideas tho!

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅��⋅⋆ ───

You texted Wanda that you were on the way home, a short and quick, ‘otw home’ which had the redhead worried. Usually, you were all exclamation points and emojis, eager to come home to her. In an instant, she knew that you had a difficult day at work. And being the loving partner that she is, Wanda hoped that she could help you take your mind off things. 

With a tired sigh, you unlocked the front door and stepped into the warmth of your shared home with Wanda. You could hear her shuffling around the bedroom as you sluggishly dropped your things by the entrance, shut the door, and slumped down on your couch with a groan.

Things have been so stressful the last few months, the last quarter of the year has always been the busiest season of all time. Add to that an occasional useless workmate and you get yourself a frustrating few months. You just wanted to whisk yourself away into a far-off island and forget about work.

“Is that you, baby?” Wanda shouted as she walked down the stairs, you groaned, “Yeah.” 

“And is my baby tired?” The redhead bent down to kiss your forehead softly as she stood behind the couch. You mustered what little energy you had to nod and grumble apologetically at her. Wanda sighed softly before walking around to lay down on the couch with you and pulled you against her chest. 

Wanda loved holding you close to her and how she could feel the warmth emanating from your soft body. Your weight was a constant pressure that brought her comfort, a constant reminder that you were here with her and that you were hers. 

“You want to talk about it?” Wanda whispered gently as she played with your hair and trailed her lips on your shoulder. 

As soon as the words left Wanda’s mouth, she regretted it. Because boy, did you want to talk about it. 

Wanda listened to you ramble on and on about an incompetent co-worker of yours. Catching a few mentions of a guy named ‘Mark from IT’ and his ‘lazy ass.’ And while she just watched and listened to your rant, all Wanda wanted to do was to make you forget about the stupid guy and let her hold you down. 

She hummed when needed, laughed when you did, and voiced out her thoughts about the godforsaken guy, truly pissed off for you as well. But Wanda was also getting impatient by the minute, what she had planned was all for you after all. So she started to run her fingers through your hair, unknowingly coaxing you into submission and relaxation.

You were mindlessly playing with her fingers while you kept up your slowing tirade against the man. You traced the bony digits and the veins visible on her arm. And Wanda just knows that, subconsciously, you need her to make you forget.

Wanda watched your fascination with her hands and playfully let her power pulse on her palm, a burst of glowing red light reflecting on your faces. You smiled tiredly at her little display and kissed the palm of her hand, “Ugh, if only you could just magic my stress away. Can you actually magic him away?” The little energy you had in your body started to dissipate at just the mere thought of the guy. Wanda could feel you slowly running out of horrible words to say about your coworker and just melting in her arms. 

The redheaded witch chuckled, her chest rumbling against your back. “I could, actually. But do you honestly want me to? You’re too nice.” Wanda peppered tiny kisses on your cheek, tickling your skin. You groaned, knowing that she was right, and you actually didn’t mean it, but you also knew that Wanda would, if you just asked. Even without probing your mind, she could notice how loud your thoughts were getting and she could sense the tiredness spilling out of your body.

“No, you’re right. But,” you sighed, “Dunno… Don’t have the energy to talk about him anymore.” Mumbling your words, you just buried yourself deeper into her arms instead. Your fingers continued to play around with her digits, your mind flashing images of the different ways she’s used them on you.

“And what do you have energy for, hm?” Wanda tantalizingly traced your back with her free hand, ticklish warmth running down your back as a soft hum emitted from your lips. 

“Dunno… Don't wanna think about anything. Just need you to hold me.” You were slipping more and more into a very tranquil and compliant state of mind, all from Wanda’s presence and her coaxing words.

“Okay, sweetie. Let me take care of you.” Wanda shifted the both of you so that you were straddling her lap and she had a tight grip on your thigh and back, a gentle hand resting on the back of your neck. “You did such a good job today, didn't you?” She asked softly as she kissed you tenderly. You hummed in approval and let out a satisfied sigh against her lips. 

The way she held you felt safe and gentle – so ready to whisk you away from the harsh, grim world, or in this case an annoying coworker. In Wanda’s arms, you always found home and solace. She was always willing to shoulder whatever ache you brought home. And tonight, she wanted to make you forget it all. 

“Just let me do all the thinking tonight, baby. Okay?” Wanda looked into your eyes and you gulped, “Yes.” You trusted this woman with your life, but at nights when you let her do anything she wanted to you, you were bound to be at her mercy.

Wanda stood up with you wrapped around her and carried you up to your shared bedroom. Upon entering the room, your favorite scent hits your nose in soft waves. Wanda had prepared all of this for you, and you swooned in her arms. You took her face into your hands and thanked her with a kiss, “Thank you, Wanda.”

Wanda reciprocated your kiss with a tongue against yours as she dropped you gently on the bed and placed herself in between your legs. Her tongue felt soft and eager at the same time. She took off your clothes, all the while kissing you so deeply, that you struggled to keep up with her pace. She pulled away with a smirk, all traces of her gentleness back in the living room falling away and replaced with a domineering gaze.

“Hands.” She demanded, and you placed them in front of her. You watched her closely, entranced by the way her fingers started to move with magic. Her delicate fingers flexed as red tendrils started to wrap themselves around your wrists.

They felt warm and gentle against your skin—like how Wanda’s touches always felt to you—as if they were mimicking the sensation of her hand. It was as if she was the one pinning you down rather than her magic. 

“How… how are you doing that?” You sighed as the redhead coaxed you to lie down on your back with your hands bound to the bed and your legs spread open for her. Wanda shushed you instead, insisting on allowing her to do all the work, “Shhh, my love. I said let me do all the thinking.”

Wanda sat up on her knees, trailing her hands up and down your nude form while admiring her handiwork. She smiled at the goosebumps that trickled all over your body, her magic shining a little bit brighter in response. Red always did look good on your skin, her magic looked good on you.

Positioning herself on top of you, you took notice of the glowing red in her eyes, and to you, she has never been more beautiful. You tried to reach out to Wanda, to touch her face and bring her closer to you – but to no avail. A dangerous laugh escaped from her lips and along with her laugh, the red bonds on your wrists grew tighter. 

“Please…” You begged, and for what? You were unsure, but you just needed Wanda to do something. Anything.

“Begging, already? I haven’t even started.” Wanda smirked as she left kisses on your sensitive neck. One hand wrapped around your throat while the other explored the expanse of your upper body. Her nails traced down your stomach, leaving light red lines in their wake. 

You jolted upwards as you felt red tendrils reaching for your breasts, playing with them, similar to the way Wanda does. Tweaking and pulling on your nipples, no part of your body was left untouched by Wanda and her magic. 

Her long digits traced your wet slit, teasing the entrance and gathering your wetness on her fingers. Wanda’s careful red eyes watched every arch that your body made and listened for every gasp that left your mouth.

“Tell me where you want me,” Wanda instructed, her mouth inches away from yours, so close that every breath she exhaled penetrated your lungs. Her fingers were so close where you needed them, but Wanda needed to hear it from you. She was dying to hear you beg for her.

Your entire body heated up in embarrassment, and you felt the heat spread all the way to your shoulders, too shy to tell her. The words seemed too vulgar to form in your mouth. Wanda’s brow arched inquisitively, waiting for you to make your move. “Come on now, sweetheart. You were just fine talking about someone else a while ago.” The redhead pouted mockingly, her voice a little bit too sweet.  

“I need you inside me, Wands. Please…” You begged softly, whines readily pouring out of your mouth. “Yeah, you need me?” She cooed, “How much, sweetheart?” The tip of her fingers toying with your wet entrance, enticingly and frustratingly, her fingers grazing over your folds.

You struggled uselessly against her magic, against the calming weight of her hold on you, desperation spilling out of you in waves. “S-so bad! I need you so badly, please!” You stuttered and Wanda took pity on you – two fingers slipping inside you with little resistance that it would have made you embarrassed if you weren’t in this desperate state. 

Her fingers rammed into you at a speed that had you gripping tightly onto her conjured bonds, fighting against an invisible force whenever you tried to arch your hips higher. “Stay down and take me,” Wanda angled her thrusts towards that spongey little spot inside you, a delicious warmth settling in your stomach.

“Do you like this, huh? Do you like it when I hold you down and give you what you need? Make you forget all your problems?” Wanda groaned in your ear, her hot breath tickling your skin. All you could do was answer with pleased grunts and eager nods as your mouth kept on producing sounds you were sure to be shy about in the morning after. 

Her other hand snaked up your throat, two fingers asking for permission inside your mouth, “Suck on them, baby. You’re getting too loud.” You instantly latched onto them, moaning around them and Wanda relishing in the vibrations produced by your throat. 

She was everywhere—or rather, her magic was. Nonetheless, it was all her. You could feel Wanda everywhere and you could feel her magic spanning the lengths of your body. Her magic was pinching your nipples, gripping your wrists, and holding your legs open. But her fingers, on the other hand, were working their miracles in your mouth and inside you. 

It was too much yet not enough, your clit throbbing in attention. Wanda cooed mockingly, “Such a spoiled girl, still not yet satisfied?”

Her fingers that were wet from your mouth then trailed downwards to press down on your lower stomach. Your insides pushed down on her fingers and you could feel every crevice of her fingers hitting the right spots. You could feel her inside you more.

The redhead’s mouth soon joined her fingers, her warm tongue drawing circles on your clit and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Bringing you closer and closer to the edge, all your body feels is her and you willingly give it. 

It’s not like you could fight against the restraints Wanda put on you, all you could do was grind against her tongue. Now that she had her fingers out of your mouth, obscene noises spilled out of you, “Wanda, I’m gonna cum! Please, can I cum?” Wanda hummed against your clit, pleased with the sounds you were making. 

“Such a good girl, asking for permission.” Wanda praised you and tightened her magic hold on you so possessively. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Cum for me.” She whispered against your clit, her warm breath and her fingers pushing you to the edge. That delightful warmth in your stomach turned into a raging heat then simmered into a throbbing fire as you came on her tongue and her fingers, so hard that you could hear your heart in your ears.

“Fuck, thank you! Thank you!” You screamed and thrashed against Wanda as she guided you through your orgasm with coaxing fingers and gentle caresses. When the pleasure dulled, you felt Wanda press a soft kiss to your inner thigh.

But as you calmed down, you noticed that the bonds had yet to loosen and gave the witch a curious look. 

She let out a wicked laugh before straddling your stomach, “Oh, you’re so very welcome, sweetie. Care to let your Mistress ride your face?”

[prythiansprincess]

devil eyes.

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: devil eyes by hippie sabotage.

author's note: this spicy fic is in collaboration with my darling @writingsbychlo. make sure you check out hide and seek. we've been scheming for weeks and i'm so happy to finally share this fun little story with all of you. keep an eye out for some cheeky cameos 👀

The cardinal rule of Gryffindor House was plain and simple—never ever make a bet with the Weasley twins. 

Anyone stupid enough to do so either found themselves out a pocketful of galleons or worse, owing Fred and George a no questions asked favour that the pesky redheads could cash in at any time. 

Unfortunately, you were a little more than tipsy off of a bottle of firewhisky and bet one of the twins, Fred? George? — you couldn’t remember which ginger you’d sold your soul to — that you could easily outfly him on the pitch during a quidditch after party. After a violent hangover, the annoying git actually showed up outside of your dorm with a Firebolt in each hand. 

“Let’s see those skills in action then, Y/N.” 

On a normal day, you might’ve managed it. You were smaller and lighter than Fred, which gave you an advantage in flight, but as your head pounded and your stomach churned, you knew there was no way you were getting on that bloody broom. Though your house motto was all about being bold and brave, you weren’t reckless enough to risk it. 

Instead, you settled for a favour. 

In hindsight, you probably should’ve just stuck to death by eating shit on the quidditch pitch. It would’ve been a hell of a lot better than trying to squeeze yourself into a stupid tiny little costume that bordered on exotic dancer more than scary witch, but it’s not like you had much of a choice. You had a debt to settle. Fred made sure to remind you of that.

While the rest of your housemates headed to the Forbidden Forest, you were busy preparing for the vital role that your ginger overlords had assigned to you for the night. Since it was Fred and George’s last year, the twins were determined to solidify their status as Hogwarts legends. What better way to leave their mark than throwing a huge rager in the forest? Thus, the All Hallow’s Eve Fest was born. 

As far as your professors knew, it would be a small festival to celebrate the season complete with carnival games, enchanted rides, and cornfield mazes. All harmless fun. But the student body knew that the Weasley twins had something far more devious up their sleeves. 

From what Fred told you, the night would be full of secret passages, elaborate tricks, and actors and actresses who would add to the whole allure. You were to be one of them. Tonight, you were playing the part of a seductive sorceress who ripped out the hearts of unsuspecting men. 

You were practically made for the role, Fred joked. 

You threatened to resort to method acting and grabbed at the front of his shirt with every intent to rip his heart out of his chest. Luckily for him, George came to his rescue and tore his twin from your grasp before you could inflict damage. 

“See you at the Forbidden Forest at seven sharp,” Fred called as he tossed the costume at you. “Don’t be late, Y/N!” 

At half past six, you almost considered skipping the event altogether, but that would mean owing the twins yet another favour. It was best to get this over with as quickly as possible. Sighing, you tugged on some fishnet tights and slipped into a pair of high-heeled boots that laced all the way up to your thighs. You placed a hand on your hip, frowning at your reflection in the mirror of the prefect’s bathroom. 

“Are you trying to scare the masses or seduce them?” 

You turned around to find your friend Chloe perched up against the sink, smirking as she raised a brow at you. 

“I’m supposed to be a bloodthirsty sorceress,” you said as you snatched her tube of lipstick and painted your lips with a fiery red shade. “Know any men who wouldn’t mind having their hearts ripped out?” 

She chuckled, swinging her legs in the air. “A few. The boys will be in skull makeup tonight, so aim for them first. Save the curly one for me, though.” 

“You’ve sent Riddle out on that wild goose chase of yours, then?” 

Chloe smirked and blew on her freshly painted nails. “He’s got until midnight to find me.” 

“What happens when the clock strikes twelve?” 

“Let’s just say that I’m fully prepared to live up to my house’s name and let him slither in.” 

“At least one of us is having fun tonight.” 

“Who says you can’t? You may owe Fred a favour, but that doesn’t mean you can’t cause a little trouble.” 

You smirked in the mirror as you put on the final piece of the costume. The gold mask fit perfectly over your eyes and truly completed the sinister seductive sorceress part that Fred cast you as tonight. 

“I like the way you think.” 

The promise of mischief and chaos helped to put a little pep in your step as you and Chloe parted ways. You didn’t even recognize the Forbidden Forest as you stepped foot into the haunted woods. There were colourful tents set up all around the clearing, some containing mirrored mazes and others promised fortunes readings. The combination of red lights and creepy fog gave the demented looking carnival an eerie feel. As much as you hated to admit it, the twins have really outdone themselves tonight. 

After running through the spell that conjured a hyper realistic heart that you’d be ripping out of unsuspecting victims all night, Fred directed you towards the east side of the forest. 

“Remember, it’s not a good night unless someone’s pissed themselves out of fear,” Fred reminded you for the thousandth time. 

“You’re a sadist, Forge.” 

Fred placed a hand over his heart. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Y/N.” 

“Piss off, yeah?” 

He chuckled. “I’d tell you to act scary, but you’ve got that part down pat.” Fred cocked his head, examining your costume. “Although, would it kill you to show a little more leg?” 

“It won’t kill me, but I might kill you.” 

Fortunately for Fred, George plucked his twin away from your murderous clutches to start greeting their guests. By the time it was half past seven, the clearing was full of your fellow students. Despite your initial reluctance, scaring the absolute piss out of people was actually a lot of fun. As Fred predicted, you had a natural talent for it. 

The first group that wandered into your neck of the woods consisted of your fellow housemates. Dean and Seamus led the pack while Ron and Harry followed close behind. The Chosen One was as pale as Peeves. Weasley, on the other hand, looked as though he might vomit at any moment. Leading the rear, Hermione shook her head and marched forward. Neville matched her pace as he nervously darted through the twisted roots choking up the forest floor. 

You waited until their group passed through the twisted willow tree before jumping out. Dean screamed in surprise while Seamus scrambled away from you. Thanks to Fred’s little trick, your hand went right through Finnigan’s shirt which caused him to shriek in terror. With a twisted smile, you yanked the hyper realistic heart out of his chest and cackled in delight. 

At the sight of the beating organ in your hands, Neville nearly passed out. Dean hauled Seamus to his feet while Ron and Harry hightailed it out of there. Hermione chuckled, shaking her head at the boys. 

“Well, they lasted longer than I thought they would,” she said. “Stuck out here for the night, Y/N?” 

“Unfortunately,” you replied as you vanished the dry blood with a quick spell. “Anyone you want me to scare the absolute wits out of tonight, Mione?” 

She chuckled, shaking her head. “No, I don’t have any scores to settle.” You nodded, wishing her a good rest of the night. 

Hermione bid you the same and started to follow the direction that the boys fled to. Before she disappeared through the thicket, a familiar, drawling voice called her back. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the golden girl.” 

Draco Malfoy appeared in the clearing. There was skull makeup on his face, but the shock of platinum blonde hair gave away his identity almost instantly. He stalked towards Hermione with that arrogant aristocratic smirk, completely oblivious that you were lurking in the dark. 

“All alone in the woods, little lion?”

Hermione’s gaze flickered towards you. A smile curved against her lips as her honey eyes glimmered with mischief. “On second thought…” 

The golden girl hadn’t even finished the rest of her sentence before you yanked Draco by the wrist and pushed him up against the weeping willow. The blonde blinked, his silver eyes full of surprise and terror as you raked your nails along the column of his throat. The red varnish looked like blood against his pale skin.

“All alone in the woods, little serpent?” 

Draco steeled himself. “And who are you supposed to be?” 

You smirked. “I’ll be whoever you want, darling.” Malfoy shivered as you pressed a palm against his chest. He leaned into your touch, his heart beating erratically underneath your fingertips. For Godric’s sake, he was truly making this way too easy. “As long as you give me your heart.” 

Never in his life had Draco Malfoy looked so terrified. The colour drained from his face as you reached through his perfectly tailored button down shirt, fingers slipping through the expensive silk material. You laughed maniacally and caressed his cheek. 

“Brace yourself, sweetheart. This might hurt a bit.” 

Without warning, you yanked his heart out of his chest. Draco stared in utter horror as blood dripped from your fingertips. The tell-tale heart pounded in your palm,  the mess of flesh and tissue covering your arm with carnage. To Malfoy’s credit, he didn’t scream or flee like your housemates. Instead, the Slytherin appeared rather impressed. 

“The spell work’s not bad.” Draco said with a smirk. He lifted your palm and examined the heart. “A word of advice, though. I would’ve turned the heart black. It would’ve been more realistic.” 

Just as you rolled your eyes, a deep, husky voice pulled your attention away from the blonde. 

“Who even knew Draco Malfoy had a heart?” 

You turned to find a gathering of serpents in the clearing. They were all wearing matching skull makeup, but you could clearly tell who each male was. The gang of Slytherins were pretty infamous and easily recognizable. The curly headed one had to be Mattheo Riddle. His gaze darted through the trees as though he expected someone to appear out of the thick fog. You had to hand it to her, Chloe had the Slytherin eating right out of her hand. 

The one beside him stood a little bit taller and though his face was smeared in the same white and black paint, there was no mistaking Enzo Berkshire’s lopsided grin and soft hazel eyes. Flanking either side of him was Blaize Zabini and Pansy Parkinson, the it-couple of your year, which only left one other serpent to account for. The male that had spoken earlier had to be none other than Theodore Nott. 

You turned your attention back to him, squinting in the faint light as he prowled towards you. Theodore was considerably taller than the rest of his friends, but not in the awkward scrawny way that most boys his age were. He was slim yet strong, sculpted by years of playing quidditch. The makeup only accentuated his high cheekbones and his ridiculously sharp jawline, but it was his eyes—those dead, cold eyes that had half the school swooning over him that gave you pause. 

Theodore grinned as you released your hold on Draco. He cocked his head, arrogance and swagger radiating off of him in waves as his eyes roamed your body. There was something unsettling about his gaze—Theodore’s eyes were neither green nor blue, but rather some undiscovered shade that reminded you of watercolours bleeding into each other. 

The manner in which he ogled you was shameless. He drank in your tight corset, the fishnet tights, and the thigh high boots like you were a painting on the walls of a gallery, pinned up for his viewing pleasure. You held your head high, completely undeterred by his stare. Besides, two could play that game. 

You schooled your features into indifference. “Who are you supposed to be? The Pumpkin King?” 

Theodore flashed you a charming smile that you had no doubt made the rest of the student population swoon. “I’ll be your Jack if you agree to be my Sally, sweetheart.” 

As slowly as possible, you dragged your gaze from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. Theodore smirked as you surveyed him just as he had done to you a few moments ago. Staying true to his Slytherin roots, Theodore wore a black suit and matching freshly pressed trousers, but the silk shirt underneath was maroon—Gryffindor colours. Your house colours. 

“Brave of you to wear rival colours.” 

“I thought you’d be happy,” Theodore drawled. “Better to hide the blood when you rip my heart out, darling.” 

“You think I care about making a mess?” you said with a smirk. “That’s half of the fun.” 

Theodore flashed you a smile that spelled nothing but trouble. “Oh, I think you’re just my kind of witch.” 

“Oi, Notty boy! If you’re done flirting, we’re heading to the mirror maze.”

Blaise was regarded with a wave of dismissal. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.” 

Hermione lingered by the edge of the clearing. She raised a brow in a silent question. You merely shrugged. Theodore Nott wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. 

“Give Longbottom my apologies, Mione. And a calming draught,” you added as an afterthought. “The poor bloke will need it.”

Your friend smiled. “Sure thing. Shall I tell the twins that you’re…indisposed?” 

“No, let my wardens sweat it out a bit.”

Hermione chuckled and waved you off. The rest of the Slytherins followed shortly after, leaving you alone with Theodore. You locked eyes for a moment before you spun on your heel and walked off in the opposite direction. The brunette stared after you in stunned silence before you looked over your shoulder and smirked at him. 

“Well, are you coming or not, Theodore?” 

The sounds of the leaves crunching below his boots indicated that Theodore had snapped out of his stupor and was catching up to you. He did so rather quickly, thanks to those long legs of his. One of his strides was equal to three of yours. It took little to no effort on his part before the two of you were walking side by side. 

“You know who I am, then?”

You shrugged. “It’s not hard to tell you and your cronies apart.” 

Theodore grinned lazily and cocked his head at you. He squinted against the faint light, no doubt trying to ascertain a hint of your identity from underneath the gold mask. 

“It hardly seems fair. You know who I am, but I have no idea who you are.”

You smirked at him. “I’m Sally, remember?” 

“Does that mean I’m your Jack?” 

“For the night, at least.”

He seemed content with that answer. “Where are we headed now, little witch?”

“The Graveyard.”

Theodore appeared slightly baffled, but brooked no argument as you led him through a thicket of trees. You chuckled at the sight of him following you blindly. “A strange girl just told you she was leading you to a graveyard and you didn’t even bat an eyelash. I thought you Slytherins were all about self-preservation?”

“I have no intention of preserving myself tonight,” Theodore drawled. “Feel free to ruin me, Sally.”

“I suppose you think you’re rather charming, don’t you Jack?”

“I don’t think, darling. I know.” 

You rolled your eyes and walked toward the lone tombstone in between the weeping willows. Theodore watched as you waved your wand and muttered an incantation. The ground rumbled beneath your feet, clearing the leaves until an ominous set of stairs appeared in front of the grave. 

Theodore peered over your shoulder. “I suppose you won’t be telling me what’s down there, will you Sally?” 

“Don’t worry, Jack. I’ll hold your hand in case you get scared.” 

It was meant to be a joke, but Theodore took the jest to heart and slipped his hand into yours. You smirked as you intertwined your fingers. If he thought a little hand holding would bother you, then Theodore had no idea what he was in for tonight. 

“Lead the way, love.”

You led him down the steps, plunging into darkness the lower you went. Theodore took the opportunity to press up behind you and kept a hand on your waist as the two of you descended. He was so close that the scent of his expensive cologne mixed with cigarette smoke assaulted your senses.  

A red hazy light flashed up ahead. The pounding music and excited chatter of your fellow classmates grew louder as you and Theodore were transported into the speakeasy. The bar was stocked with alcohol, shots and cocktails floating mid-air with themed drinks like Merlin’s Mourge-a-rita, Witches’ Brew, and Cauldron Colada. You hailed Parvati down who was apparently serving as the bartender tonight along with her twin sister. 

“We’ll take two El Diablos.” 

Theodore raised a brow, but didn’t protest as Parvati presented the shots in front of you. Your fellow housemate also floated a salt shaker and a bowl of limes on the counter. You sprinkled salt on the back of your hand and grabbed a lime wedge in preparation. Theodore did the same, minus the lime. 

“Bottoms up, Jack.” 

“Cheers, Sally.”

After licking the salt off of your hand, you clinked your glass against Theodore’s and knocked the drink back. The El Diablo certainly lived up to its name. The drink was a combination of tequila mixed with pepperup potion and topped off with a hint of cayenne. Needless to say, it had a bit of a kick. 

With a slight grimace, you bit down on the lime, which helped with the unpleasant aftertaste. Theodore caught your wrist and held your gaze as he directed your hand up to his mouth. He mimicked your move and sucked hard on the lime, his lips brushing your fingers as he licked the juice from where it had dribbled onto your palm. 

A shiver snaked down your spine. You may be a shameless flirt, but Theodore was definitely matching your energy. 

“I can’t believe the twins built a speakeasy down here,” Theodore said. He leaned in close so you could hear him over the music. “I’m almost impressed.” 

“I’ll tell my wardens you said that.” 

“You keep calling them that,” Theodore said, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “You wouldn’t mean that one of the weasels is your ball and chain in a literal sense, right?”

“Are you jealous, Jack?” 

He smirked. “I just want to know which twin I’m sending to the infirmary tonight.”

You chuckled. “I’m not dating Fred or George. I just owe them a favour. Speaking of which, I’ve got some men to scare. Be a good boy and wait for me here.”

Theodore shook his head. “Oh, I’m not letting you out of my sight. I’m yours for the night, remember?” He toyed with the laces on your corset and pulled you towards him, your breasts pressing against the hard muscles of his chest. “I have a proposition for you, little witch.”

You quirked a brow, which made Theodore chuckle darkly. “Not that kind of proposition, principessa.” He twirled the lace between his fingers. “I say we terrorise the student body together.” 

“You want to help me do my job?”

Theodore shrugged. “Why not? We can be partners in crime.” 

You cocked your head. It certainly would be more fun to have someone else partake in your chore. Curling your fingers around his maroon tie, you pulled Theodore down to your level. His gaze flickered to your mouth and you couldn’t help the thrill that buzzed in your veins as you watched him swallow thickly. 

“You’ve got a deal, Jack.” 

As it turns out, Theodore was an excellent partner in crime. The two of you concocted a rather effective formula to inflict fear upon your classmates. The Red Room soon became your hunting grounds. In the creepy blood soaked maze, Theodore chased groups through the enchanted room while you lurked in the shadows. As soon as they thought they were safe from skull face, the groups were then led right into your trap. 

You could hardly count the amount of people you scared shitless tonight. 

Eventually the two of you returned to the bar for more drinks. You ordered another round of shots, which Theodore accepted without question. By the time you were six shots deep, the tequila had annihilated any sense of personal space between you. Theodore leaned down to take a sip of your drink. 

“Trying to get me drunk, love?”

“That depends,” you quipped back. “How many drinks do I need to plie you with until you agree to dance?” 

“With you? I’d say yes while stone cold sober.”

You grinned. “Come on, then.”

Theodore allowed you to guide him away from the bar and into the throng of your fellow classmates. It was total debauchery out on the dance floor. The music pulsed seductively as bodies writhed to the hypnotic beat and the red light bathed the crowd in a sinister glow as the alcohol loosened both limbs and lips. 

The warmth of the tequila made you feel flushed, but it was nothing compared to the heat of Theodore’s hands on your waist. With your back pressed against his chest, you swayed your hips to the beat of the music. You rocked side to side and grinded against him, which caused his grip to tighten. Theodore’s fingers dug into your sides as you wrapped an arm around his neck and arched your back against his chest. 

His dark lashes fluttered as your lips brushed against the column of his throat. Theodore shuddered when you nipped at his skin. A low groan escaped his mouth as he tried to chase your lips, but you dropped low to the floor and left him in a daze. 

Theodore caught your wrist and pressed you flush against him. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that it’s not polite to tease?’ 

“Do I look like someone who gives a shit about being polite?” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and toyed with the curls at the nape of his neck. “You should know that I have a terrible habit of playing with my food.” 

Theodore smirked and fisted your hair between his fingers. “And you should know that I have no qualms about being toyed with. As long as you promise to devour me later, little witch.”

You brushed up against him and felt his hardness rub against you. “Cross my heart and hope to die. I’ll get my taste of you tonight.” He inhaled sharply as you tugged him down to you. His eyes fluttered, fully expecting a kiss. “But before that, would you be a dear and get me another drink? I’m absolutely parched.”

A pained expression dawned on his handsome features. Theodore was fully aware of the little cat and mouse game you were playing, but he seemed keen to play along. If only to please you. 

“You’re killing me, bella,” Theodore said with a sigh. He leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss on your cheek, a promise of what was to come. “I’ll be right back. Stay here, yeah?” 

“Don’t take too long,” you said with a wink. “I might get impatient.”

With that, Theodore hustled back to the bar. You chuckled at the sight. Your amusement only grew as Chloe approached. As soon as she was within reach, you tugged your friend onto the dancefloor. She happily obliged, the moves flowing naturally. The two of you were known to bring the whole house down at countless parties. 

“I take it Riddle hasn’t found you yet?” 

“No, but he’s close.” Chloe shouted over the music, motioning to the bar where her boyfriend was currently standing. Mattheo, Theo, and Draco were talking in hushed whispers, looking rather serious. 

“Gettin’ colder, he and Draco are heading toward the exit.”

The poor Slytherin was chasing after some unsuspecting blonde girl who looked a lot like Chloe from behind. A mischievous grin curved against her lips as she watched Theodore weave his way back to you, toting a drink in each hand. 

“Is that Theodore Nott you’re flirting with?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” you replied with a coy smile. “He doesn't know it’s me, though, so if he asks you, you have no idea who I am tonight.”

“My lips are sealed.” 

With a wink, Chloe slipped away just as Theodore returned. He handed you a drink and watched as you sipped it slowly. Theodore downed his cocktail in less than a minute and tossed his cup into the nearest trash can. 

“Impatient, aren’t we?” 

“You promised a taste.” 

You smirked, chugging the rest of your drink and wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb. Theodore watched intently as you set the empty cup down. “Come and get it, then.”

The words had barely left your lips before Theodore kissed you. There wasn’t a hint of timidness in the way that his lips crashed against yours, a soft moan escaping his mouth as he tilted your chin up to gently bite down on your lower lip. You gasped when he nipped at you, leaving your mouth open for his tongue to slide into. 

The taste of him was intoxicating as he massaged your tongue against his, licking the roof of your mouth before he kissed you sloppily, open-mouthed and positively obscene despite the crowd dancing around you. What started out as a kiss turned into a full blown make out session in the middle of the dance floor. Neither one of you felt a hint of shame as you shared another filthy kiss. With a groan, Theodore’s hands roamed along your back and squeezed when he reached your ass. 

“Fuck, you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.” 

You smirked, already equipped with a salacious response when your gaze caught on the clock behind the bar. It was nearly midnight and the twins had instructed all the actors and actresses to gather in the main entrance for the grand finale. Fred and George would have a fit if they found out you had abandoned your post. The twats would probably demand another favour out of you. There was no way you were going to shackle yourself to the Weasleys a second time. 

“Shit,” you hissed under your breath. “It’s almost midnight. I have to get back.”

“I thought you were my Sally,” Theodore drawled. He looked slightly dazed, his curly hair dishevelled and his lips swollen from your kisses. “Not Cinderella.”

“I’m being serious, Nott. If I’m not back before the clock strikes twelve, I’ll have to owe the twins another favour.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you back in time. Besides, if we’re playing into this whole Cinderella fantasy then let’s skip to the good part and see if it fits and by it I mean me inside of you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine. Before you knew it, you were dragging Theodore out of the speakeasy. The two of you climbed the steps three at a time, nearly tumbling over one another as you raced up the stairs. The woods were dark and foreboding, but provided plenty of cover for your illicit activities. 

You tugged Theodore along by his tie and he pressed you against an oak tree, the bark biting at your exposed skin. You were kissing again in no time and the sounds the two of you made were downright lewd. Theodore reached for your mask, but you swatted his hand away. 

“The mask stays on.” 

He smirked. “I didn’t think it was possible to get any harder, but you seem to be an overachiever.”

“I aim to please.” 

Theodore smirked against your neck as he hiked you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. His hand wandered underneath your skirt and those deft fingers of his teased along your soaked core. 

“You’re so fucking wet, little witch.” You groaned as he plunged his fingers between your folds. “Such a pretty cunt too. Will you clench this tightly around my cock when I fuck you?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” you whispered huskily. 

A stream of curses fell from Theodore’s lips, but not in a language that you understood. Italian, perhaps. Whatever it was, it sounded sexy as hell. You unbuckled his belt and slipped your hand into his trousers, feeling his hard length twitch in response. A choked groan rumbled through his chest as you pumped him between your fingers. 

You swallowed thickly. Theodore was long and hard, his cock almost too big to fit inside of you. But you always did like a challenge. 

Those watercolour eyes that had been pinned on you all night turned positively dark. The strange blue and green shade that you had grown familiar with was now swallowed by darkness, leaving Theodore with a gaze that would’ve rivalled Medusa’s. You felt it searing into your skin as you sank down on his length, biting your lip as he stretched your walls. 

“Merda,” Theodore cursed. “So fucking tight. C’mon pretty girl, that’s it. I know you can take all of me.” 

You shuddered a breath as he pushed inside. Theodore watched with hungry eyes as you took him inch by inch. It seemed never ending. “Fuck, you’re so big.” 

Tears pricked the back of your eyes. The stretch was an equal measure of pain and pleasure. You could feel every ridge and vein on his cock and your pussy hugged around him as he throbbed inside of you. 

Theodore caressed your cheek. “It’s alright, little witch. I know you can take it. I’m yours, remember? Your partner-in-crime. So use me, dolcezza. You’re in charge tonight. Just set the pace and I’ll follow.”

The reassuring words encouraged you to slowly grind against him. Theodore hissed as you lifted your hips until only his tip was inside of you. His mouth was hot and needy against yours as you grinded down to take all of him again.

“Che cazzo,” Theodore murmured as he bottomed out.

The drag of his cock was delicious. He filled you to the hilt and pressed his hand on your stomach to feel his length buried deep inside of you. The tightness it caused made the both of you groan. You rolled your hips and set a steady pace, lowering onto his cock over and over again while you whimpered.

“Oh, fuck. It feels like you’re splitting me apart.”

Theodore groaned as he sucked and nipped at your neck. The heat of his tongue was everywhere, leaving marks on your skin in his wake. It would be a pain in the ass to cover, but you didn’t care as you continued to ride him.

“Salazar fucking save me, your pussy feels like heaven.”

Theodore chuckled darkly as you clenched around him. He untied the laces of your corset impatiently, freeing your breasts from the constraints. Theodore brushed his thumb over your hard nipples before taking one into his mouth. He watched with eager eyes as you moaned, sucking and swirling his tongue while you picked up the pace. 

“You look so pretty when you fuck me,” Theodore hummed as he flicked his tongue against your stiffened peaks. “Ride me harder, little witch. That’s it. Yeah, roll your hips just like that. Good girl.”

“Gods, I didn’t expect you to have such a filthy mouth,” you said with a low laugh. “You’re always so quiet in class.”

“So we have a class together,” Theodore said as he thrusted upwards to match your pace. “I thought you sounded familiar.” 

“Is that so?” 

“It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can't quite grasp it. I guess I’ll just have to pay extra attention to all the Gryffindor girls in my classes.”

“I’m a Gryffindor? How do you figure that?”

“Besides your entire personality? You seemed friendly with Granger and though you complain about the twins, I’d wager that you’re mates as well.” 

“Smart and handsome,” you said with a smirk.  “You’re full of surprises aren’t you, Jack?” 

Theodore smirked and thrusted sharply inside of you. “You have no idea, Sally.”

“I thought I was in charge tonight,” you said in a stern voice. 

“You are, but I think you could use a little encouragement. You’re holding back.” 

You circled your hips before lifting them and slamming back down. Theodore’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. 

“Does it feel like I’m holding back?” 

“I’m a patient man, but if you keep toying with me like this I might just have to fuck that attitude right out of you, little witch.” 

You tilted your chin up and smirked. “So do it.” 

All that bravado left your body as Theodore rutted into you. He drove his cock deep within you, stretching your walls until you were clawing at his back. Theodore grunted as you squelched and squeezed around his length. His pace was relentless and punishing, guiding your hips to bounce on his cock while you moaned in pleasure. 

“Oh gods, right there.” You cried out, burying your face into his neck. 

You inhaled his scent greedily and sank your teeth into his flesh. Theodore slowed his pace and chuckled darkly when you whined. 

“What’s the matter, little witch? Can’t take a dose of your own medicine?” 

“Don’t stop,” you whimpered. “Keep going. I’m so close.” 

“Beg me, darling. Tell me how desperate you are. I want to hear those pretty little words.” 

Theodore halted his movements, his tip barely inside of you as he teased along your folds. He held your hips in place so you couldn’t sink down to take more of him. Usually, you were used to taking charge, but the way he put you in your place had you creaming all over him. Needless to say, you weren’t above begging at this point. 

“Please, I need you. Fuck me harder. Give me everything. I can take it. Every fucking inch.”

“Merda, you’re fucking filthy. Begging for my cock like a good little slut. Brace yourself, bella. Remember that you asked for this.”

A whimper fell from your lips as Theodore bucked into your cunt. His cock impaled you, splitting you apart and knocking the very breath from your lungs as he fucked you roughly against the tree. He squeezed your ass, keeping a firm grip to secure you in place as he jackknifed into you. 

“Oh gods,” you sobbed, raking your nails underneath his shirt and dragging red lines all along his back. Theodore hissed as you clawed at him, thrusting so hard that your teeth rattled every time he drove into you. “Fuck, it’s too much.” 

Theodore grabbed your chin harshly. “No, it’s not. You begged to be fucked, now take my cock like the perfect little whore I know that you are, yeah?”

You nodded. Words escaped you at the moment. The filth coming out of Theodore’s mouth aroused you in more ways than one. Who knew that the silent Slytherin fucked like a god?

A stray tear rolled down your cheek. Theodore licked it away and chuckled as you whimpered. “Are you crying, sweetheart? Such pretty little sobs. Don’t worry, you’ll get your reward. You’ve been such a good girl for me and good girls get to cum.”

At that, Theodore rubbed your clit and pushed you over the edge. His fingers were magic against your sensitive bundle of nerves and it wasn’t long before you were clenching around him, making his hips stutter as the orgasm blindsided you. A scream echoed through the woods and it was only when Theodore covered your mouth when you realised that the sound had come from you. 

“Fuck,” Theodore cursed, dropping his forehead to yours. “Merda, I’m not gonna last much longer. Not when that pretty pussy of yours is milking me dry. Oh gods, I’m gonna cum—“

You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist as his body seized underneath you. Theodore bit into your flesh as he came, leaving a bruised purple mark on your collarbone. You had never seen anyone look as beautiful as he did when he lost control, lips parted, cheeks flushed, devil eyes rolling back as the orgasm thoroughly rocked him. 

The stillness that settled over the Forbidden Forest was almost eerie. The two of you looked at one another, dazed and confused as though you weren’t even sure who or where you were at the moment. Through all your romps, no one has ever put your body to the test like Theodore has. You could tell by his intense gaze that he likely felt the same. 

Theodore set you down gently. Compared to how rough he was a few moments ago, the contrast almost made you laugh. You heard the chime of the clock echo a beat later. 

Fuck. That only gave you a minute to sprint through the woods and make it back in time before the twins reached your clearing. You frantically re-tied your corset and straightened the skirts of your dress. Theodore was busy buckling his belt. 

“I have to go,” you said as you shrugged your robe back on. “I’ll see you around, Jack.”

“Wait, you never told me your name!” 

But Theodore was too late. You were already gone by the time he looked up. He sighed and started making his way back to the festivities. The last chime of the clock indicated that it was midnight. He could only hope that you’d gotten back in time. 

Theodore paused as something crunched underneath his feet. He peered down at the forest floor and found something golden peeking out amongst the leaves. With a smile, he picked up the golden mask. 

It looks like his mystery girl left him a clue after all. 

Theodore would find his Sally. 

He’d make sure of it. 

Theodore couldn’t remember the last time he was this excited to attend class. 

After the All Hallow’s Eve party, he’d done everything he could to dig up information on his mystery girl. Theodore had even gone as far as to interrogate the Weasley twins, but as usual, the redheaded menaces were unnecessarily difficult about it. 

“Sorry, mate, but we don’t reveal the identity of our actors and actresses,” George said with a shit-eating grin. 

Fred nodded in agreement. “Confidentiality and all that. We wouldn’t want to go around spilling trade secrets. It’s bad for business.”

The weasels stayed mum even after Theodore offered them a ridiculous amount of money to reveal his mystery girl’s identity. Unfortunately, his desperation only served to intrigue the twins and the sadistic little gits seemed to derive pleasure in seeing Theodore grow more and more frustrated. 

“Best of luck to you, Nott,” Fred said with a little smile. “If you do end up finding her, you’ll need all the fortune you can get. She’s a feisty thing, that one.” 

“I know,” Theodore said with a glare. “That’s exactly why I want to find her.”

George chuckled. “Godric bless your heart.”

If the twats weren’t his main weed suppliers, Theodore would’ve punched their teeth in. Despite Fred and George’s general uselessness, he was in a good mood when Monday rolled around. Equipped with the knowledge that his mystery girl was in one of his classes, he made sure to pay extra attention to every Gryffindor girl. It was only a matter of time before he found her. 

“You’re smiling,” Enzo commented as he caught up to Theodore in the courtyard. “What’s happened? Did my cousin fall down the moving stairs again?”

Theodore snorted. “Even better, Berkshire. I’m going to find my mystery girl today and you’re going to help me.”

“How?” 

“You’re friends with literally everyone. Someone has to know who she is.”

“Hmm, come to think of it Mattheo’s girlfriend is good friends with a lot of the Gryffindor girls. I bet she’d know who it is.” 

“Good, let’s start there. Where is Chloe anyways?” 

“Probably in the Great Hall with Mattheo.”

The two of them headed over to where the rest of the castle was currently having breakfast. Enzo made a beeline for their usual table where Mattheo, Blaise, and Draco were seated, but Thedore didn’t follow. He stopped in his tracks when he spotted Chloe seated with a girl who looked vaguely familiar to him. Theodore was sure that you had Charms together. More than that, you were wearing a red and gold tie. A Gryffindor. 

Theodore inched closer, skirting around the edges to listen in on the conversation. 

“How was your weekend?” 

Theodore froze. He knew that voice. It was husky and seductive and sounded exactly like how his mystery girl had when she’d whispered in his ear. 

It was you. 

It had to be. 

“It was good,” Chloe responded with a grin. “Really good.” 

“Mattheo found you after all, then?” 

“He did and suffice to say he liked the second part of my costume more than the first.” 

You laughed in response. Chloe leaned in and lowered her voice. “What about you? You disappeared from the speakeasy, so I’m assuming I’m not the only one who had an eventful night.”

“It was fine.” 

“Just fine?” 

You flushed, biting your bottom lip. “It was the best lay of my life.” 

Theodore smirked. So it wasn’t just him, then. The sex had truly been something else entirely. He had been confident that you must’ve felt the same way in the moment, but doubt crept in since you’d run off so abruptly. Now he had confirmation and it was satisfying as hell to hear you say it. 

“There you are,” Enzo said from behind him. “I brought Mattheo, so we can ask Chloe about your mystery girl.”

“That little witch of yours really put a spell on you, huh, Nott?” Mattheo teased. “Let’s go, then. Maybe my girl can help.”

Chloe looked up and smiled as Mattheo leaned down to kiss her. You glanced up at the exact moment that Theodore came into view. He clocked the way your cheeks flushed as your gaze landed on him.

“You know my boyfriend,” Chloe said. You nodded at Mattheo who shot you a polite smile back. “That’s Enzo and Theo. Boys, meet Y/N. Y/N, meet the boys.” 

Theodore took your hand and brushed his lips against your knuckles. “Hello, Sally.” 

You smiled back in return. “Hello, Jack.”

Chloe’s eyes widened, immediately taking stock of the situation. Mattheo and Enzo were slower to catch on, but luckily she ushered the boys away. 

“We’ll give you two some privacy.” 

You tried not to laugh as Chloe winked behind Theodore’s back. 

“I found you.” 

“So it seems.” 

“I guess you won’t be needing this anymore,” he said as he pulled out the golden mask from his backpack. Theodore’s intense gaze swept over you, cataloguing your features. 

“You kept it,” you said with a small smile. 

“I would’ve returned it sooner if you hadn’t left in such a haste after we—“

“Fucked in the woods?” 

You were amused to find Theodore blushing. “I was going to say hooked up, but I suppose that’s another way to put it. Anyways, you left in such a hurry. You didn’t even give me your name.”

“Didn’t really think you wanted me to stay.”

“Are you kidding? I haven’t been about to think about anything else since that night. You’ve taken over my thoughts. It’s fucking maddening.” Theodore caressed your cheek and tilted your chin so he could look at you better. “My mystery girl. You’re more beautiful than anything I could’ve ever imagined.” 

“Well, you have the real thing now. It’s your move, Jack.”

Theodore shook his head. “No, not Jack. Theo. That’s the name you’ll be screaming from now on. After I take you out on a proper date.”

You raised a brow. “What makes you think I’ll say yes?”

The devilish grin on his face sent shivers down your spine. “You’re really going to turn down the best lay of your life?” Your eyes widened, which made him smile even wider. “That’s right, sweetheart. You’re not the only one who can sneak up on people. So, what do you say?” 

“Pick me up at eight. Don’t be late, Theo.” 

Theodore winked. “It’s a date, Y/N.”

TAGLIST

@annaisabookworm @marina468 @yaraasthings @the0doreslover @bubybubsters @moony-artemis @natasha887 @lucyysthings @criesinlies @bunnymallowo @niktwazny303 @letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl @wordsarelife @clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel Masterlist

This is won't be a storyline fic, I just need to get some of these random ideas out of my head.

Things of note: reader is asexual but *not* sex averse, will come up. Ghoap will be a side thing but they are all end up loving reader in different ways.

If you have any ideas or scenes you would love to see in this world please feel free to drop them in the comments or hit me up in an ask. I fucking love this work I have created and if it never ends like a sitcom aiming for syndication.

Companion Series: Hell's Spawn

Ceiling, Floor, Door

Meeting Soap

Sore Loser

Gotta Go

Batter Up

Hugs That Heal

Charmed

Grocery Delivery

Iced Coffee & Scary Movies

Something Stupid

Coffee Orders

Sweet Girl

New Glasses

Stutter

When Did It Change?

Really? You'll Wear It?

Nosey Nancy's

Ten Minutes Please

Job Offer

Frozen Toes

Three Small Squeezes

Scorched Earth

Finding Normal

Bed Snatchers

Sober Up

John, You're Buying A House

Sit Down

Ovulation is a Bitch™ - SFW (Tumblr exclusive)

Charcuterie

Cat Distribution System

Birthday Present *Has slight sexual content

Lover and Love

Witching Hour Wishes

If AO3 is more your jam, chapters will only posted in order as they are completed over there though so Tumblr will have the most and most up to date parts.

Masterlist Shout out to @saradika-graphics for the so cute dividers.

[caramelloss]

"you are my witch"

lilia calderu x reader • pure smut • 3.2k w/c

summary: you've been friends with lilia calderu for years. drunken from the poison of wine, you confess your love for the woman. although reluctant to admit her feelings, because she harbors a secret you don't know, you learn that lilia feels the same way. years of yearning come to an end, and you find yourself falling into your desires, unable to control what has been kept away for so long.

taglist: @setsuna1415 @honeypiperpizza123 @valarmorghuli @allseingeye @im-a-carnivorous-plant @worstendingever @ramblininsomnia @wandamaximoff-simp @mrsines @onlyv4use @kenzie-floops @screamsin-gay @numenamortenia @valkyrierain @babythere @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu @astrophilliaxx @giona45-5 @evilregal2002 @crescendoofstars @yourbasicqueerie @primalnight @darkangelchronicles @sapphic-girlss @thegoddamnfeels @doctormaviatorres @i-hate-most-insects @brisgayshit97 @iheartmilfzzsposts @redrouge7e7as @novavala @finnza @wandringlightsaber @romanoffsho @kingpreciouswrld @emilyprentitss @elobv10 @wandasreallover @kaypastore38 @thegayassbit-ch @marinalunaestrella @gryffindor-forlife @lorrainemylove @anais-casablanca @girlwithissuesworld @ofgoldandbraid @justgaygirlthings @beachhausu @deathly777 @confuseuniverse @eepyvampy @whyilovewomen @r-3-becca @roksana6448 @bugcolector @etw12 @heartsfromelle @zyguard118 @thelesbianapollokid4 @opossum-in-disguise @snoopyaah @amberwhale @marisacoulterswife @ionlylikefictionalpeople @derry-n @evie-101 @ganyulover123

author's note: so first i'd like to just THANK all of you for blowing up my post asking for who'd like to be tagged, because the taglist isn't even done, i can't fit them all in the blog. also, i tagged you if you liked or reblogged the tag ask post, because i bolded i would tag those who liked or reblogged. second; i'm sorry this isn't a longer fic. it was originally planned to be, but i don't want to use my idea i came up with in a one chapter fic, i'd like it to be used in a longer more meaningful one. i really hope you enjoy this. if you have any positive, negative, or general feedback, please let me know! i want to become the best author i can be for you guys. also, i'd love to receive any asks for fanfiction or one shots! i'm currently focused on my big multi character x reader fic, but im 100% open to and willing to write for your requests.

content includes: fingering, oral stimulation, biting, praise, hair pulling, pet name usage

you noticed the difference in her eyes like it was bolded in bright red ink. her smile fell, like an angel to descend from heaven. 'this is it' you thought, 'she’ll hate me.' you turned away in shame, your heart dropped. words flooded out, stupid, careless words. "i love you, lilia." 

you couldn't bear to look, you feared the disagreement would show on her face. your body tenses, and you scrunch the bridge of your nose with your fingers. you expect her to tell you to get out, or leave.. but you hear nothing. 

but you feel, oh, you feel. 

you feel her behind you, closer than when you had muttered those stupid, damning words. her fingers gently traced your neck, and you closed your eyes, the yearning in your soul up to its brink of expression. each breath you take is shaky, is heavy. you tilt your head aside, desperate to feel her warmth on your skin forever. 

you open your eyes when you feel her breath on your neck. she must've noticed your body's reaction, because she paused, and remained still. lilia traces her fingers down your body, to your hips. she stops here, her lips close to your ears, as her body presses into your back. 

you lean into her, your head slightly leaning back, at the pure and utter pleasure you feel being so close to her. her lips part, and with such composure, yet so little solidity, she delivers a line that would come to send shivers down your spine. "i have loved you since i saw you the first time, long ago. i am consumed and rattled by you at every waking second.." her hands pull you in, and you hum at the gesture. your eyes are closed, not because you hate this, or don't want to be there, but because the way you long for her in this moment now is too painful for you to bear. a lump forms in your throat when you feel her wet cheek graze your neck. she was in tears, and you needed to console her; but how? how should you console her now? you did not have much time to think. her lips, warm, soft, and gentle, were on your neck. the kiss she blessed your skin with felt like one that existed prior to the world, and forever past the present. it was torture, it was devastation, when she pulled away. it hurt, it was brutal.. so brutal, your lips parted, and you gasped quietly. your hand reached back for her head, and you enveloped your fingers in the curly, silver locks of her hair. you held her head close to yours, as her thumbs rubbed gently upon your hips. her voice broke as she completed her confession, and your heart broke with it; you'd do anything to protect her, to keep her from harm. "i'm a witch, y/n.. how could you ever love a witch?" 

your eyes opened, and you stopped breathing, for just a moment. you were sure you'd heard wrong. with a furrowed brow, and a worrisome expression, you broke away from her touch, from her hold. you turned to her, and your head tilted to the side, as tears began to form in your waterline. the sight of her, so weak, so doubtful of herself, so ashamed.. your heart shattered like a broken mirror. 

her face was lined with streaks of wet. she had cried for this, she suffered for it. she couldn't even look at you, her eyes were avert. 

your hands raced to cup her cheeks, and you gently wipe away her tears. her lips part, in astonishment, followed by her eyes meeting your gaze. finally, you saw those beautiful eyes again. your heart skipped a thousand beats at the sight of those irises. you smile, and your face softens. "lilia.." you whisper, your forehead pressed against hers now, "i've loved you since the sun rose opposite the moon. i've chased you in all of my wildest dreams. i've loved you in every moment and i would not stop because of what you are or are not." at your notation, her lips fold into a smile. she grabs your wrists softly, holding them. once more you spoke, "you are my witch, my little piece of divinity. you are mine, and my heart is yours." you watch as her eyes move from your eyes to your lips, and you wish for nothing but her to kiss you. 

after all these years, of being her "friend", you have never wanted anything more than for her to kiss you. it's like an insatiable hunger you cannot destroy. 

lilia bites her lip, and she grabs your chin with her pointer finger and her thumb. you start to breath heavy, and your heart begins to race. she brings your face to hers, so close that your lips graze against one another’s. you ache for her, you long for her. you need to taste her, to merge your body, your soul, your heart, with hers. you need her to kiss you. 

and she does. her lips mesh with yours in perfect harmony, like the melody of heaven’s sea. your mind is adrift, clouded. you cannot form a thought, you do not desire to form a thought. her unaccompanied hand caresses the small of your back, and you pull her closer with the hands you hold on her face. 

she slips her tongue along your bottom lip, and you moan softly into the kiss. her grip on your chin releases, and she holds your jaw instead. she guides you through the long, heart-felt kisses. her lips control your body, your mind. 

warmth builds between your thighs, and your head is still covered by nothing but a blanket of emptiness. lilia is the first to pull away, her lack of oxygen in her lungs being the culprit. you curse the living necessity of air. 

you yourself breathe heavy, panting almost. lilia’s lipstick is smudged, and you smirk at the notion that you've just kissed this marvel of a woman. she notices your cocky smile, and a single eyebrow lifts. she now wore a smirk herself. 

“you're looking at me like you've just seen me naked, y/n.” you chuckle when she says this. “while i wouldn't be opposed to that, i'm just a little satisfied with the fact that in the midst of kissing me, you forgot about your lipstick.”  

her smirk faded and her lips parted again, she pop looked offended, but you could tell it was just her beautiful sense of sarcasm. 

“fix it for me?” she asked this with a lower tone and a wink, and you felt your core throb at the sound of her voice. she wanted you to kiss her again. 

you ran your tongue across your bottom lip, and you couldn't help your smile. her hands guided your face close, and you pushed a curl behind her ear. she grew desperate, unable to wait. her lips caught yours, and you shut your eyes at the contact. in your head you pictured her eyes, beautiful and brown, like the rock embedded and shaded on the side of a mountain. your grip on her hair tightened as she pushed you back softly, making sure not to break the kiss. her lips were soft, so soft it felt like the comfort a pillow brings in the hour of sleep. you moan as your lower back makes contact with her counter, and your head leans back, which breaks the embrace. 

the wetness between your thighs grows, and you figure your underwear must be utterly ruined. lilia's fingers stroked your hair, and she shook her head slightly, a whisper following shortly. "let me taste you.. every inch of you.." you bite your lip, and hold her gaze, nodding hesitantly; even though you don't feel hesitant on your answer at all. her smirk returns, and her hands descend, down from your hair to your neck. she drags them further down, past your shoulders. she stops at where the unbuttoned cardigan opens, pushing the material off of your arms and body. her warmth intoxicates you when her skin brushes against yours. she plants hot kisses on your upper arms, which are exposed because of the camisole top you wore. 

her hands found the straps to your shirt, and she pulled them down slowly, kissing the empty place they used to cover. you tense, and your eyes shut as your lips purse together while you try to conceal the soft hum of pleasure you make.

lilia's fingers pull away the top, leaving you completely naked and exposed from your waist up. she smiles at the sight, her hands cupping your breasts. you feel the slick between your legs, it seems the inner part of your thighs had gotten soaked by extension.

her thumbs grazed over your nipples, and the sensation was enough to drive you wild. you pulled her head into the curve of your neck, your lips parted as soft moans escaped. she chuckles and her lips start to kiss your neck. 

your knees go weak, simply from the ecstasy her lips brings you. her thumbs lose the feel of your sensitive buds, and she begins to creep down your throat. she leaves sloppy kisses down your collarbone, and down to your nipples. her eyes close as she takes one into her mouth, suckling on the sweet spot. your eyes fall back, and you inhale, biting down onto your lip to stop yourself from being loud. her fingers play with your lone nipple, and you feel as though you will not be able to take much more of this before becoming pathetic for her. 

the witch releases your areola from her mouth and takes in the other, her tongue lapping around the bundle of nerves. her hands trace the curves of your body. they pause when she's reached your hips, and she digs her nails into your skin. the pain blends with the pleasure beautifully, and it's as if they are interchangeable. 

you breathe heavily, your stomach twitching when she starts to drag her lips down your stomach. your pussy was so wet that she could smell the scent of arousal from your waistline. her fingers pulled up the black skirt you wore, and it revealed your soaked nude panties. she chuckled, looking up at you with eyes that were darkened and overwhelmed with lust. she bit her lip and furrowed her brow, which made you roll your eyes. 

“you're so wet, darling. i could just devour you.” you gently pull her hair, forcing her head back a little. she smirks, and you pout. “please, i need you” you say, pleading for her tongue, for her fingers, for her to be the one to shape you into a mess of a woman. 

she winks, bringing her mouth to your inner thigh. she leaves kisses along your skin, and it seems as though she’s teasing you. her eyes stay locked onto yours with each touch of her lips, she wants to see your face as she tortures you.

your hands release her hair, and grab onto the counter behind you, your nails scratch the surface with each new touch. her eyes look so dark, and it turns you on even more. 

but your view of them is gone as she bites into your other thigh. her teeth are sharp, and your jaw drops, you whimper. her teeth release, and she kisses the bite mark. you open your eyes to see it, to see the mark she had left. it was dark red, and your expression changed, you felt your core throb uncontrollably, and you grabbed her head by her hair, guiding her to your cunt. your eyes pleaded with her. 

lilia opened her mouth and licked the wet slick on your panties, all while looking you dead in the eyes. the touch was faint, but it was all your body needed to jerk up. it was so cruel, the way she left you needy and desperate for her. you couldn't think beyond her tongue on your clit, or her fingers buried in your warm folds. 

she bit the material of your under garment, pulling it slowly down your legs. her eyes were stolen away by the sight of you completely naked and in front of her, soaked, ruined. you were such a slut for her. you wonder if she would tease you about how soiled you got for her later down the line. 

the witch sighed, and her lips kissed the very inside of your thighs, right beside where you writhed for her. you thought you might faint. 

using your hand, you rubbed her cheek, shaking your head at the sight of her, down on her knees, ready to please you.  

she turned her face, kissing your gentle fingers. you smiled, and you took a deep breath as she brought her face as close as possible to your core. her eyes were focused on your face, you could tell she wanted to watch your face as she ate you out. so typical of her. 

her face buried between your legs, her tongue circling your clit. your hands shot behind you to the counter once more, desperate to hold yourself up. your eyes closed, and your back arched. the moan that echoed through the room was inevitable. she took her time, finding the nerves that were more sensitive and paying more attention to them. you thought she must've found you stupid to be so wet and needy for her. 

her tongue sped up, and she took your clit into her mouth, suckling the bud. you couldn't control the way your hips bucked, or the way your knees fell wobbly and weak. her hands grabbed your hips to stabilize her, and she pulled her mouth away in a flash. 

you were worrisome, you thought maybe you'd messed up, or maybe she'd realized she didn't want you like this. it was almost heartbreaking to feel her pull away. 

she had never stopped looking at you, though. you of course couldn't tell because your eyes had closed before out of the extremity of what you were feeling. 

she looked serious, determined, but her eyes were still as dark as before. you blush at the sight of her face covered in your taste, your slick. her mouth opened, and you heard every word with such a heavy impact. “do not close your eyes again. i want to see your eyes, your face, at every moment. do you understand?”

your heart starts to race again, there was just something so inexplicable about the way her words made you feel. you nod your head, scared that if you spoke your words would be jumbled. she didn't accept it though, her voice changed, from demanding to mischievous. “you understand..? what do you understand, dear? how does it make you feel..? tell me how i make you feel.” 

you bite your lip, looking up at the ceiling. maybe you were throwing up a prayer that you wouldn't mess up, or maybe you were just trying to prepare yourself for what she wanted from you. her right hand slipped from your hip, and you didn't notice, so fixated on her request. you went to start speaking, but as you did, you felt her fingers inside of you. 

your head leaned back, and you closed your eyes. a hushed “fuck!”, was followed by a loud humming. she smirked, “what did i say about closing your eyes, baby?” 

you forced them open, forced them to lock their gaze down onto her own. you wanted to make her happy. you needed to please her just as badly as you needed her to make you cum. 

“i'm sorry, darling—” as you began again, her fingers started to pump inside of your pussy, and your mouth lay agape. she didn't stop, even as you took a moment to continue, and you took a deep breath. 

“you want me to look— oh, fuck.. god.” it was like she went faster with each word you spoke. you took note of her devilish grin, thinking that you'd someday get your revenge. “you want me to look at you, you want to see me when— shit!” your body flinches as she curls her digits inside you, her speed still gradually increasing. “come on, princess, you're doing so good” she whispered this against your clit, right before sucking it into her mouth again. 

you bit your lip and your hands pulled her by the hair, just giving you something to hold onto. “when i cum for you, when i'm just a puddle for you.. you want to see me when i take your fingers!” 

the words came out shaky, spaced between your moans and whimpers. her fingers started to go as fast as they could, and lilia lapped her tongue around your wet clit, stimulating every single part of your cunt. she was still looking at you. you held her gaze as you started to tremble, your body shaking as it came to the brink of an orgasm. 

you finished your thought, giving her what she asked of you. “it makes me feel like abandoning everything for you, to have you like this, every second, every moment.”

her eyes closed, and you watched her remain between your thighs. your body hit a climax, and your hips bucked up, your back arching. you yelled for her, her name. your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you bit your lip to muffle any further sounds as she fucked you through your orgasm. 

when you had came, your white fluid casing over her fingers, she pulled her mouth away from your clitoris. 

you, with your head still fuzzy, had managed to pull her back up to you by her hair. her lips were so wet because of you. you immediately pull her in to kiss you, tasting yourself on her tongue and lips. she pulled away, breaking the contact. her teeth captured your bottom lip and you sighed when she pulled it back. 

lilia’s lips started kissing your neck, and she brought them to your ear, whispering hushedly, “clean your pretty little mess, my love.” 

you whimper, and you open your lips, as she slips her two cum-covered fingers inside of your mouth. you suck off your fluid, and the growing wetness between your legs returns.

the older witch laughs, kissing your neck again. her lips find yours once more, and she kisses you like there is no other action in this world. her tongue invades your mouth, as she tastes the sweetness that remains. 

[lotties-ashwagandha]

THE NECESSITY OF BROOMSTICKS

rio vidal x reader, 938 words

you compromise on halloween decorations with your witch girlfriend. silly stupid halloween fluff w no depth just witches because WHERE are the fluff fics for agatha all along.

Rio looks at the sign with distaste. “What the fuck is witches’ brew?”

You look at the sign you’re hanging in the kitchen, Fresh Witches’ Brew, and smile. It’s decorative, you bought it while you were out today, one of the many Halloween decorations you found to put around the house. “It’s… you know. Potions. Spells. Cauldrons.”

She tilts her head. “No one uses cauldrons anymore.”

You roll your eyes, stepping back from the sign. It matches well with your home, it adds a playful touch you suspect you need in sharing a home with Death. Rio is obviously displeased, though, standing with her arms crossed as she glares up at your decor. She’s always hated the way witches are portrayed in the media this time of year — pointy hats and bubbling cauldrons and, as you love to point out, riding on brooms.

‘I rode on a broom once,’ she reminded you furiously the other day when you had brought home a new throw pillow with a stereotypical green witch with her pointy hat riding on a broom. ‘It was necessity.’

“I bought something else,” you tell her and reach for your bag of decor. She puts on an uninterested expression, but cranes her neck to look over into your bag. This time, you pull out new coffee mugs. Hocus Pocus, they read, in giant orange lettering. You hand Rio one of the mugs.

“Oh,” she looks down at the mug and then up at you — it’s on the tip of her tongue, a remark about how witches aren’t like Hocus Pocus movie witches, but instead she places it on the kitchen counter and with an obligatory smile she thanks you. She gravitates close to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and watching intently as you sort through the rest of your decor.

“I think I’ll go out today and get some decorations, too,” Rio announces and presses a quick kiss to your cheek — you expect to see a black lipstick stain when you next glance in the mirror. She stands up a little straighter, watching you with unwavering resolve. It sounds unnatural and dry when she says, “You’ve put me in the Halloween spirit.”

You nod, though you’re a bit hesitant. She hardly celebrates Halloween like you do — she’s more ancient than your commercialized celebrations, she views them as silly and meaningless compared to those of past centuries. It’s a night that was once viewed with much more reverence, a night that was respected with the severity it demands. Nonetheless, you’re curious as to what she will come up with to use for decorations — it’s hard to envision her trekking through the store for a scarecrow fit for the front porch.

•••

As you are putting up the last of your decorations, Rio comes in through the front door. She hauls something behind her, dragging it in through the door and propping it up on the couch: a life-sized plastic skeleton. Her gaze flits between you and it as she interprets your reaction, and you see the sense of achievement she holds.

“He was on sale,” Rio says, “so I got him some friends. They’re out on the patio sitting around that big cauldron you bought. I covered them in fake blood and drove one of my knives through one of their rib cages.”

Though inanimate, the look the skeleton on your couch wears on its bony face reflects Rio’s excitement. It’s charming, and you can only imagine the way the others she bought look sitting around your witches’ cauldron out on the patio. The vision has a smile pulling at you, and Rio’s pride in her purchases only seems to grow.

“I love him,” you nod to the skeleton on the couch. “Are you going to put him with the others?”

“No,” she digs around in a bag she brought in and pulls out a horror clown mask. “He gets to be a dead clown. You get your witch hats, I get my dead things.”

It’s a compromise you are willing to settle on for her. You know your days of traveling through the house at night for a glass of water have been ripped away until the skeleton is stored for next Halloween, but it’s a fair exchange if it means Rio will be more content in the face of your stereotyped witch decorations.

Rio slips the clown mask onto the skeleton and steps back to examine her work. She pulls out a dagger she keeps on her — you’ve told her that it is unnecessary to carry around knives constantly, but she never listens — and hands it to you. She nods to the skeleton. “Do the honors?”

“What, incriminate myself with clown murder?”

Rio nods enthusiastically. You approach the skeleton, and in a swift motion you drive the dagger into his chest.

“Beautiful,” Rio takes your hand when you come back to stand at her side. She pulls you close, and she leans in to kiss you before she stops and pulls away.

“What are you doing?” You ask, but Rio doesn’t respond, just disappears into the kitchen. “Rio?”

When she comes back, she holds your Witches’ Brew sign. She places it beside the skeleton and together you view the new addition to your seasonal decor.

“There,” Rio says. “Now it’s how it should be.”

A dead murderous clown selling witches’ brew on your couch — an addition to your household that you never would have suspected necessary, but one that makes your fall celebrations feel complete. Now Rio kisses you, peppering your face in more black lipstick stains, love outstanding the transience of autumn.

[jensthwa]

woo's prelude: a clown's remedy to heal a broken heart (JWY x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

A drunk and kind of akward conversation inside of a closet is the start of Wooyoung's journey into healing his broken heart. Only he doesn't really know the name of the Scarlet Witch that helped mend a heart that wasn't supposed to break anymore, even if she starts plaguing his thoughts and dreams after that.

PAIRING: wooyoung x fem!reader.

GENRE: halloween hookup to [redacted] (we'll get to that when we need to).

WORD COUNT: 11.9k

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, drinking and drunk behavior, mature language, insults, woo getting his heart broken by his ex girfriend even though they're friends and they haven't been romantically involved in YEARS my god he's a dummy, reader getting her heart broken too, some self worth issues, frat bros being stupid and getting drinks throw at them for stepping over the line, howl!wooyoung (not for people with weak hearts and strong imaginations), making out, biting, description of female anatomy, sweet dirty talk and praising , fingering, semi-public (they're at a party, does that count?) and protected sex (wrap it up please), switching them positions for him, masturbation, hook up talk and the start of something new that we won't see for now but soon!

NOTES: hi everyone! decided to do a halloween drop on halloween day because spooky season is not over until i get this story out of my system it seems! this story is PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH / SHOW & TELL UNIVERSE but can be read as a stand alone finally yay! THIS A PRELUDE TO WOO'S STORY, a little taste of what's to come for him and his boo (see what i did there?). this took place BEFORE we can't be friends (san's story) and will be placed accordingly on the masterlist to clear any future confusion. there's mentions of the characters that show up in wcbf so if u want to better understand the dynamics, you can read that but it's def not needed!

this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: october 31st 2024 at midnight!

masterlist

There's a particular way one too many tequilas can make a room spin that Wooyoung absolutely adores. 

When it happens, he lets himself catch the world swirling around him before closing his eyes and praying for a little bit of lucidity to come to him so he can get his drunk ass home safely. 

As he opens his eyes, his face scrunches at what he sees: San, dressed as Gomez Addams, waving a hand in front of him. It takes him a little to remember where he is. 

It's a bit extra confusing with all the costumes and strangers and the music blasting through the speakers but when it finally clicks, he's grateful that he's not completely gone yet. 

“Are you good?” He can faintly hear San ask over the music, San’s girlfriend by his side dressed as Morticia, eyeing him with a quirked brow. 

Why is San with her? He will never, ever get it. 

Kyungmi is not really right for him. It's been a few months already since they made it official and Wooyoung can just tell. He always tells. He's not as oblivious as everyone paints him to be. 

There's one girl who's right for San but, in all honesty, Wooyoung is too tired to fight him on it. 

San always shoots back with a comment about him and Gyuri, his ex girlfriend (now best friend) and it always brings his mood down for some stupid reason. 

He's oblivious to why that happens. By choice, of course, but oblivious nonetheless. 

He prefers it that way. 

Wooyoung would nod, but he knows it's dangerous to do so “Just peachy.” 

“Why don't you—” San starts but he interrupts. 

“Some air and water,” he smiles, taking the water bottle from his friend’s hand “Waaaay ahead of you, babe.” 

Kyungmi rolls her eyes “Quit calling my boyfriend babe, dude.” 

San laughs, Kyungmi does not. 

“Don’t be jealous because he loves me more than you,” sticking his tongue out, he stumbles his way around them both “I'll be back.” 

He focuses on putting one foot in front of the other until he reaches a very big window. It's larger than usual. 

Oh. 

It has a door. A door that slides! 

It's a balcony. Amazing, just what he needs: To be a safety hazard and a possible traumatic experience for everyone at the party. 

He should probably turn back around before he's accidentally leaping over the edge but then he sees it. 

He sees her.

Corpse bride. Her blue makeup being wiped off by somebody's tongue in a secluded corner of the backyard of this stupid frat house the friend group ended up for the night. 

Gyuri is kissing someone. 

His chest tightens, his mouth drops slightly and his heart thumps hard enough for him to feel it on his throat. 

Why is she doing that? 

She's wearing matching costumes with him. She carefully picked them out, she ordered everything a month and a half ago and now she's kissing some… Some… Attempt at a Superman costume. 

Which is pretty fucking hilarious because how do you fuck up a Superman costume? 

But Wooyoung is not laughing. He's hurting, he's fucking pissed and, at the same time, he can't pull his eyes away from her. From them. 

Is feeling this pathetic something that would fit Víctor?

Vector? 

Whatever his name is? 

He's never seen the Corpse Bride, so he doesn't remember the name of the dude he's dressed up as. He just knows he wants to wipe the pale complexion Gyuri painted on him off. 

Off. Off. Off. Out. He needs to leave. 

But he ends up going back inside and downing another shot before he can really think about it, giggling to San and pretending nothing happened because who the fuck is he to Gyuri to get upset over it? 

Her ex, sure. But that happened a long time ago, so it doesn't count anymore. 

So it doesn't really matter. Nothing really matters when he finds Yeosang (dressed as the Phantom of the Opera) and drags him to the dance floor for what it feels like forever.

And then, one thing leads to the other and he's sitting on the floor, in a circle of people he doesn't even know, playing spin the bottle. 

Or is it seven minutes in heaven? A vampire and a fairy kissed in front of him half a second ago, but Zuko and the creepy doll from that one netflix show got up and into a closet like… six minutes ago. 

He didn't really pay attention to the rules. 

Oh, well, he's about to find out anyway! 

Fingers grasping the soju bottle in the middle of the circle, he carefully inspects the faces of everyone sitting there, expectantly looking at him. 

His vision is a little blurry but he wants to pick whoever strokes his fancy the most to try and get rid of the funny feeling he gets when he sees Gyuri walk right in front of him and head for the drink table. 

He decides quickly that, as long as it makes him forget the image of that dude's tongue down the mouth of the love of his life, he's good. 

So he spins the bottle. It spins and it spins and it spins and everyone leans forward in anticipation until it stops in front of someone. 

There's someone on his left that audibly gasps and Wooyoung looks at them before his eyes focus on the person he has to… Kiss? Get in a closet with? 

What does he need to do? 

“You can skip her if you like,” some dude with red paint dripping down his forehead and cargo shorts tells him. He's not even sitting down in the circle but lying on the couch closest to it “She's in a bad mood.” 

That’s when the Scarlet Witch that the bottle landed on rolls her eyes and gets up. 

Wooyoung thinks he's about to lose his turn and wait for the next round or until the bottle lands on him when she offers him her gloved up hand. 

He gets up. He's a little bit more sober now, alert as he plants his feet on the carpet again just to not make a fool of himself, throwing a glance at Gyuri just to find out she's not actually looking at him at all.

The pang on his chest comes back. 

“Don't throw a drink on him just for trying to kiss you too, sweetheart, that's what the game is all about,” the same dude from before tells her as they both pass by the couch and head for the space Zuko and the doll who, he assumes, just got done with their seven minutes was occupying “Don’t say I didn't warn ya, Wooyoung!” 

Who is this obnoxious motherfucker and why does he know his name? 

It takes two and a half hazy steps until the darkness of the small space engulfs him and Scarlet Witch. 

It's one of those long closets with narrow walls that leave absolutely no space to move around when you actually need to put something away, but it's a perfect nook to make out. 

He would know, he's been in this situation many times. 

He lets go of the stranger's hand, only because she turns away from him and then she huffs once the door closes. Wooyoung hears a thump against the wood of it, so he assumes she hit it with her fist or her boot. 

“Fucking asshole.” She mutters under her breath but he hears it. 

It dawns on him that the reason he sat down to potentially kiss strangers that night was to be seen. 

Wooyoung wanted people to see him so they knew he was completely fine and, as soon as Gyuri walked into the room, his motivation was for her to see him doing completely fine. 

Cool. He's cool. He's one of the actual cool guys at the university, he's been told so before. 

He also wanted her to feel a little bit jealous but now, eyes closed for a few seconds to try and regain composure after whatever just happened, he realizes that she probably wouldn't even care.

So this whole thing is useless anyway. Only now he gets to meet (kiss?) someone dressed as one of his favorite characters of the decade. 

There, as his eyes adjust to the minimum light that's filtering under the door, he realizes his mistake: he said nothing to defend her. 

In his defense, his drunk brain processes the information a little too late. And, in her defense, Scarlet Witch seemed like she didn't really care what the asshole said in the first place. 

Now he notices that's not true. 

It's hard to make out her figure but he hears another soft thump and when he turns his head to the right angle, he's able to make out that she just leaned against the door. 

He opens his mouth to apologize, he thinks, but she beats him to it. 

“We don't have to kiss or… fuck or whatever people do with their seven minutes.”

“Wow,” he laughs, his back finding a wall and almost knocking something placed on a tiny shelf next to his arm “I promise I wasn't expecting you to—” 

“Yeah, yeah, save it,” she lets out a breath. “If you want to tell them that we kissed, that's fine by me. I know how your frat bros behave when you don't do what you're supposed to.”

“They're not my frat bros. In fact, they are not even my bros,” he frowns, and slides against the wall because his legs are threatening to give in. He's suddenly very, very exhausted “I don't know them.” 

“Isn’t your name Wooyoung?” 

“Y-yes?” 

“Then you know them,” she shoots back, matter-of-factly “And I'm not interested in kissing any of your kind tonight.” 

“My kind?” 

“Men,” she clarifies and Wooyoung can feel her smile in her next words “Although frat bros are a different kind of species altogether.” 

“I'm not a frat bro!” 

It takes a second and his honest frustration but she laughs “Sure.” 

In the dark, with his ego bruised and his heart crushed, Wooyoung thinks it's a pretty laugh. 

He thinks it's even prettier when he hears a little ruffling and then her body heat invades his space, kind of. She just sat beside him, thigh against his and perfume reaching his nostrils. It's a mix of something sweet and something citrusy. 

It's really nice.

He gulps before asking “W-what was that about?” and then points to the door like she can see him. 

“He's in one of my classes. He thought he could kiss me and when I said no, because fucking look at the state of him, he tried to kiss me anyway,” she says all chirpy but Wooyoung picks up on the sarcastic tone and let's out a soft ew at the story “I preventively threw my drink on him because I got a little freaked out and now I'm sober and pissed off. I think he's a little upset about me thinking he was about to take advantage of me.” 

He grimaces “You can't never be too sure, though.” 

She hums and then sighs a: “I know.” 

“I don't even know his name but he does sound like a fucking asshole.” 

“Why does he know you?” 

Wooyoung shrugs and he's a little glad it's dark. He's not exactly smiling, his playful nature not coming out at the moment. “I'm a pretty popular guy.” 

“I don't know you.” 

“Well, I don't know you either, so we're even,” he shrugs again and it's kind of hypocritical because, to be fair, he didn't get a good look at her face at all “I just know you s-smell nice.” He murmurs, tripping on his words like a babbling drunk idiot. 

Maybe because that's what he is right now.

“Thanks… I guess.” She sounds weirded out by that but he's not sober enough to care. 

“You're so welcome.” 

There's silence in which Wooyoung does nothing but try to find her in the dark. He eventually does, given the fact that the light from under the door casts a little on her face now that she's sitting down.

He doesn't recognize her, which is odd. Wooyoung knows almost everyone. At least her voice would ring a bell but there's absolutely no frivolous memories with this girl and he kind of likes it that way. 

If she doesn't know him, she doesn't know about Gyuri. That's a plus because there's no reason for her to be walking on eggshells around him like every other student at the university who finds him attractive. 

There's another beat of silence between them both, music blasting outside and making the floor slightly thrum underneath him. 

He's not usually this quiet. When he doesn't feel like crying, he's usually very annoyingly outspoken. Mind glowing in red alert, he practically stumbles his words out to fix that. 

“I like your costume.” 

“You do? People didn't get it.” 

“That's because they care more about Captain America than Wanda Maximoff,” he scoffs. “It’s the Multiverse of Madness one, hm?” 

“Wandavision post-credit scene,” she whispers back and Wooyoung nods, encouraging her to go on even if she can't see him. He thinks she's about to maybe rant about the show or the character or the party or anything that can help him forget, but she does the opposite “I, uhm… Also like your costume.” 

There's a tint of shyness in her voice, like she's not used to being nice. 

“Victor, right?”

“I've never seen the movie.” He makes sure to clarify before she asks him about it. 

“You don't really have to see the movie to know the character, Wooyoung,” he feels when her head hits the wall slightly, on purpose maybe “I don't like him anyway.” 

“Then why did you say you liked my costume?” 

“I lied. It's called trying to keep the conversation going,” her explanation makes no sense to him in that state of inebriation, but he lets it go “I don't exactly know what to talk about when I drag someone into a closet.” 

Wooyoung pauses and then laughs to himself “We were not exactly supposed to talk in the first place. Have you never done this before?” 

“No. I don't usually go to frat parties,” she says after a second where Wooyoung was met with silence, a moment where he wondered if his question was out of line “Coming here tonight was a mistake.” 

He finds himself asking without thinking, again “Then why did you?”  

“I'm so bored.” 

That takes him by surprise. 

“Bored?” 

“Yes, I'm bored. My dorm room mattress has a hole in it because I never go out and… Well, there's a boy I liked that came here tonight, so, I came as well.” 

Liked? 

Wooyoung doesn't really ask her about it. 

Eyebrows practically touching his scalp, Wooyoung thinks for a split second she's talking about him but that's not really possible because they've never met until now, she said it herself. 

“Well did you find him?” 

She takes in a shaky breath and then lets it out. Sadness suddenly fills the constricted space and Wooyoung isn't sure if it's just him or if Scarlet Witch is going through a heartbreak as well. 

“Yeah, I did” she whispers back and doesn't elaborate, so he doesn't ask “There's a bride going around the party. I saw her, she looks really cool, maybe you could—” 

“She's my best friend,” he interrupts because the mention of Gyuri, so directly at that, has his heart racing with anxiety. So long for her not knowing about his ex girlfriend “We, uh… We dated in highschool and we stayed friends, so it's not really happening again.” 

“Oh… Do you want it to happen again?” 

“W-what?” 

“I mean,” she laughs a little awkwardly, like she's nervous “You sounded very sad when you said it, a little angry too.” 

“Did I?” 

He definitely didn't mean to sound like that at all. 

Scarlet Witch hums in agreement and he really thinks about what to answer. The short answer is a simple yes but, if he's being honest, he already knows that they're not good for each other. Not like that, anyway. 

“I don't really know what to tell you.” 

“You don't have to tell me anything,” she says right away and it calms his nerves a bit. “Just know that there's no real helping when you like someone, it doesn't matter if you thought you didn't like them anymore. It just happens. It sucks but it just happens.” 

The unsolicited advice doesn't really help him, if he's being honest. It stirs something inside him that he wants to keep hidden, concealed, so he turns the topic of conversation away from him. 

Away from Gyuri. 

“Speaking from experience?” He asks, half jokingly.

“Yeah, so I can confidently say that it fucking sucks.” 

She turns to him with a smile (he's hyper focused on her, there's no way he could've missed that) before laughing and a tiny force lifts up the corners of his lips. That's one pretty laugh.

Maybe, in an universe where was a little bit more sober, he could've actually spent these seven minutes kissing her. 

Kissing her. 

He wants to kiss her. That's going to take his mind off Gyuri, sure. 

His heart beats quicker this time, for a completely different reason. 

He leans in. 

He's going to kiss her. 

She clears her throat “Are you going to the party next saturday?” 

Huh? 

Oh. 

“Yes, I think so,” he's a little breathless and probably blushing because of what he was about to do “Why?” 

After the night he had, he thought he was going to struggle to even bring out this sort of excitement out of himself. When Scarlet Witch raises her gloved hand and brings it to the nape of his neck, he wonders if she actually has magical powers. 

It effectively distracts him, it sobers him up and makes him feel drunker at the same time. Short nails caress the skin where her fingers lay and then she grasps the strands of hair sticking out, not gelled down for the sake of his costume. 

“Is this real?” 

What does she mean? This feeling taking over his body? The heat that spreads all around? He's not sure if it is, if that's what she's asking. 

Hia mouth feels like cotton when he asks “Is what real?” 

She laughs softly again “The hair, the length.” 

Oh. 

“Yes, it is.” 

Maybe he should've taken his time in answering because, as soon as he does, her touch leaves him. 

“You should go as Howl,” she murmurs and he melts a little “It'll suit you better than a Tim Burton character, I think.” 

He laughs, it's short lived and through the cloud he feels he's on right now “You think?” 

“Yeah,” he can't see her, but he knows she's nodding “Even if you claim that you're not a frat bro. You know, the whole seducing ladies and stuff.” 

Wooyoung laughs “Howl did not seduce any ladies, it was all a rumor!” 

“He did, in the book.” 

“Oh, I don't read.” 

“See?” she clicks her tongue and then her shoulder touches his, teasingly “Total frat bro.” 

Wooyoung thinks about it again. 

Kissing her. Now out of pure want instead of selfish motivations. 

She said she didn't want to, earlier, if he recalls correctly and that's okay. 

He still wants to though, so… 

The question is on the tip of his tongue, he even thinks he makes out the start of it before it's cut off by the sound of the door opening. 

Closing his eyes at the sudden intrusion of light, it takes a few seconds for them to adjust to it and, when they do, he finally sees her face. 

He should've kissed her. 

The costume she's wearing it's cool, sure, and she's even wearing a wig that looks very expensive so he confirms the fact that she likes to dress up sometimes but that's not really what amazes him. 

Maybe it's because he sort of already formed a judgment of her character but she's beautiful and he really, really, really, should've kissed her. 

“Time's up, you're hogging the closet. Oh, and someone is looking for you,” the girl dressed up as Zuko points in his direction and then, because neither of them makes an effort to stand up, she nods and steps aside “I'll give y'all a minute.” 

Scarlet Witch laughs and Wooyoung wishes he could share the sentiment. At this point, he thought he would be done with a makeout session and in desperate need for another drink to keep the night going. 

Now, he wants nothing but take her hand in his and find a quiet spot where he can keep getting to know her. Maybe get her number. 

And he swears he's going to ask, but the universe is not in his favor. When she turns to him, he loses all ability to speak and when she leans in to peck his cheek his breath hitches and he feels like a teenager getting a crush for the first time. 

“In case you need to tell anyone I kissed you,” she whispers in secrecy, leaning back a bit “So you don't have to lie. I hate liars.” 

He gulps “Noted.” 

She doesn't even give him the opportunity to escort her out of tiny space: she gets up, bolts for the door and when Wooyoung's brain catches on to the gigantic problem of his own creation, as he gets out of the closet and looks around for her, she's already out of his sight. 

“Are you good?” 

It's the second time tonight San has asked that. It's not annoying by any means but when it comes with the concerned faces of Yeosang, Kyungmi and Gyuri he has to think his response through.

But the Scarlet Witch's words echo in his mind. 

I don't like liars. 

“No, I'm not,” he says, a little out of breath “I didn't get her name.” 

This time, the entire crew joins him, Gyuri, Kyungmi and Yeosang to go to the party. 

He wishes his other best friend came along as well, but she's really not that fond of parties in general. 

Which sucks because she would look good in a costume and maybe that would prompt San to act on his feelings and break up with Kyungmi in the process. 

She was a pain in his ass tonight. Didn't really help his nerves at all. 

Yes, he's nervous about possibly seeing Scarlet Witch again. 

Yes, he thought about her all week and tried his best to find her on social media but couldn't. 

Yes, he's aware tonight's theme for the party is a mix of a masquerade and a normal costume party or whatever the sorority organizing it said in their invite. 

And yes, he's dressed up as Howl Pendragon, wearing a black and white mask that he borrowed from one of the girls in the group. They decorated it with little gold and pink stars and it looks cute on him but that's not the point! 

Masks complicate his quest for the night. 

He hopes that she's here tonight. He also hopes that the costume alone is enough for her to recognize him: There's a lot of people here tonight. 

Even waiting in line to pay the cover fee for the party felt stuffy. 

He turns to Gyuri and she's laughing at something her date for the night is telling her. That's right, for the first time in many, many years, Wooyoung is not her date. 

Superman is. He's dressed in the same costume he saw him in last weekend, he thinks he even sees as smudge of Gyuri’s corpse bride body paint on it. 

She's Wonder Woman for the night. So original. 

Wooyoung feels bad as soon as the bitter thoughts go through his head. He didn't even know they exchanged numbers, let alone kept chatting to coordinate their costumes for tonight's party. 

He found out when she told her that the Raven and Beast Boy costumes would have to wait until next year. 

And he, actually, was relieved that he didn't have to paint his face green for God knows how many hours just to keep losing his date in the crowd and finding her kissing someone else. 

Ugh. 

Bitter. He's as bitter and jealous as someone who has to see the love of his life not give a damn about them or their feelings can be.

But that's okay, he has other plans for the night anyway. 

As soon as they all get through security (there's security at a house party, what the hell), they all scatter to do what they do best at parties. 

Hongjoong and Seonghwa head for the drink table, Yeosang and Jongho head for a corner of the main room, San, Kyungmi, Gyuri and Superman go straight to the backyard and Mingi, his girlfriend and Yunho walk with him to the dancefloor. 

He dances with his friends, he pretends he's paying attention to their banter as his eyes scan the crowd looking for someone familiar behind a mask. 

He thinks he remembers her face very well, it stayed on his mind for a whole week but, even after dreaming about their conversation, Wooyoung is having a hard time in finding her. 

She didn't even tell him what she was going to dress up as or if she was even going to show up. 

Or did she? 

His memories are all blended together. He's going to make sure to be sober tonight, just for the sake of remembering every little detail if he does end up finding her. 

But the hours go by and he still can't find her. 

He's losing hope, he's beginning to believe she didn't even show up to the event which, hey, sucks but that means that he can finally get her out of her head. 

Sort of. 

There's a Scarlet Witch staring at him. But there's this alluring nature to his Scarlet Witch that can't be replicated, or so he thinks. 

He's about to convince himself he drunk dreamed the entire thing but then he sees him. 

The obnoxious motherfucker. Her classmate, mister can't-take-no-for-an-answer. 

In all honesty, the first thought that crosses his mind is to punch him in the face. He's still dressed up all frat bro-ish and his mask is a paper mask, completely diy-ed and with a dick drawn on the right side. 

And then he abandons the thought because, although an asshole, he can lead go finding his Scarlet Witch. 

Only issue is: Mister asshole is walking away with a girl on his arm and heading straight to a… room? bathroom? 

Stopping his movements, mid a Troye Sivan song and cutting Yunho off in whatever he's telling him, he let's out a loud “Fuck!” 

Yunho stops, Mingi and his girlfriend turn slowly to them with wide eyes and concerned expressions 

“What did you do to him?” Mingi asks Yunho and his best friend laughs nervously. 

“I didn't do anything! Did I do something?” he turns to Wooyoung “I didn't, did I?” 

“No, no. Sorry, I… I gotta go.” 

“Go where, Serena Van der Woodsen?” 

Wooyoung doesn't get the reference Mingi’s girlfriend makes but he laughs like he does “I'll be right back!” 

He's never been so determined before, moving through the crowd like his life depends on it and crashing into Batman and his Joker on the way to stop the guy who's potentially changing the course of his night. 

“Hey!” He yells behind him but the music is somehow louder on this side of the house and five people turn their heads, but not the guy pushing a Silent Hill nurse into the bathroom door to kiss her before opening it. 

Damn it. 

He runs faster and faster and he thinks he's going to miss his chance when the tip of his boot catches the door before it fully closes on his face. 

Breathing hard, his lips turn up in smirk when he catches the way the guy's face scrunches in confusion before opening the door again and looking at him.

Wooyoung takes it a step further and gets into the bathroom with them, closing the door behind him and lifting up his mask.

“What the fuck, Wooyoung?” 

“Hey, so sorry for interrupting your fifth makeout sesh for the night but I need to ask you something. Hi.” He says to the nurse and she smiles a little before turning to the Frat Bro and raising her eyebrow inquisitively. 

“And it couldn't wait?!” 

“No,” he says right away, smiling sardonically and getting straight to the point afterwards. “So, remember the Scarlet Witch that I ended up going to the closet with last week?” 

“Who?” 

Wooyoung is going to kill him.

“The girl who threw a drink on you last week for trying to kiss her even if she said no the first time you tried,” he reminds him, “Is she here?” 

“Y/N?” the name comes out in a whisper and Wooyoung sucks in a sharp breath. 

Y/N. 

It fits her. 

“Your classmate, yes.”

“Uhm, yeah, I think she's here,” he looks a little embarrassed at the recalling of the events of last week and Wooyoung wants to smile because of it, but he just looks at him with an insistent look so he can catch that he needs more than that to find her. To find you “Look, bro, I don't know where she is right now. I think she's dressed as a… Clown? A jester? Some weird, indie costume, uhm… She has a pointy black birthday hat? I don't know.” 

He's slurring his words but that's not enough for Wooyoung to feel bad for him. He, however, does not want to speak with him anymore. 

“Alright, thank you for that, I'll… Leave you to it,” he opens the door again and frat idiot scoffs, so he turns and looks directly at the Silent Hill Nurse “Please make him wear a condom.” And he can tell she's a little turned off with the whole conversation. 

So, as he closes the bathroom door and scans the crowd one more hopeful time, he counts that as a second victory. A little revenge on your name, even. 

He wanders the house, the hallways and rooms and little hideaway spots but he finds no sign of you in them so he heads for the backyard and looks up to the second floor. 

The first room is presumably empty, lights turned off and no activity in it the few seconds he observes it. 

The second room has an ambiance light turned on and he sees what looks like a Mad Hatter run across the window and then he hears something crashing, so he hopes that's not where you are. 

The third room has a balcony. It's dark, there's not one light lit in the entire room but there's neon lights in the backyard and streetlights and the moon casting perfectly on it, so he's able to see it perfectly from where he stands. 

And there, draped in some sort of vintage looking clown costume, wearing striped tights and a black and white pointy hat, mask in your hand and your forearms supporting your weight, you stare past him. 

You look sad, but it could also be the illusion the makeup you put on gives. 

He doesn't know you enough to know what your sad expression looks like and it bothers him a little. 

You also don't notice him at all, which is odd, because you're staring directly over his shoulder. You only blink fast and focus on his face once someone calls out: 

“Woo!” That's Gyuri's voice. Raising your head, you wave to him and smile a little. He smiles back. 

He has to literally force himself to peel his eyes from you and look behind him, at his best friend “Are you okay? Come hang out with us!” 

She looks so happy. A little drunk, but happy. San is also right beside her and he shoots him a knowing smirk that he ignores because he has to leave and speak to you. 

“I'm a little busy, Yuri. I'll be down in just a sec,” that's a lie but she nods happily and so he turns to you, your smile a little bigger now “Don't move.” He warns cheekily in a whisper and you seem to get it, because you smile wide, raise your arms defensively and open your, once again, gloved hands in defeat. 

He practically sprints to the second floor after that. 

You hope Wooyoung didn't notice. 

Staring daggers at the girl he told you last time is his best friend? Yeah, that could turn into a fight really fast if he reproaches it. 

You don't remember her name but you do remember her kissing the guy you've liked since forever. She's been doing that all night tonight, too. 

It pisses you off for all the wrong reasons. Sure, she's not exactly at fault, but the human mind is horrid when it comes to mental self flagellation and you, unfortunately, are an expert at that. 

All kinds of things went through your head. The main one, a question: Why do you feel so possessive over something that clearly isn't yours? 

His heart. 

His heart it's not yours, it never was, it never will be.

It's time you come to the realization that that's okay even if it hurts you. The obsession you have over it, over what happened with the two of you it's starting to get pathetic and it makes you feel lonelier than usual.

You really hope Wooyoung didn't notice. 

As you walk to the door and unlock the room you claimed for the night (because you want to leave, but the cover was expensive and there's no way you're letting it go to waste) you let yourself detach from the emotions you've been feeling all night. 

Wooyoung doesn't need to know what's going on in your head. You have a good memory of him, you even filtered a little last weekend and you want to keep that going. 

He doesn't need to know, he doesn't need to stay in your life for too long either.

It makes you giggle when he opens the door and scans the moonlit room of this sorority house like he doesn't really believe you were there in the first place. He smiles wide when his eyes land on you, back against the wall closest to the door. 

“Hey.” You say, biting down a smile.

His chest is heaving, like he ran all the way up here and it does nothing but send nervous tingles down your spine.

He smiles beautifully, entering the room and closing the door behind him “Hi.” 

Peeling your back from the wall, you start walking around the room because that keeps your body busy and unable to embarrass you. 

“Thought I missed you completely tonight, Y/N.” 

Frowning, you give him a glance over your shoulder “You know my name.” You say, rather than ask. 

“You didn't want me to?” 

Shaking your head, there's a tiny smile that curves your lips when you turn to him. He's walking around as well, slowly, carefully, like you're about to disappear if he moves too fast. 

“I don't really enjoy mysteries that much.” 

He smiles as well “You didn't tell me your name last time.” 

“You didn't ask me,” shrugging, you take a few steps his way and scan his costume without any discretion “You see?” 

“Hm?” 

“How good you look as Howl?” tilting your head slightly, you don't miss the way his cheeks darken slightly and that makes the remains of your shyness disappear from your body. You tell yourself that you, in this room, there must be no space for it. You point at his cape “Was it hard to get this?” 

“Overnight shipping,” he whispers, taking a step in your direction “You look very cute.” 

“You think?” 

“Yeah, I really like the, uhm…” he gestures to your costume “Vintage vibe.” 

You don't have to be a genius to notice he doesn't really know what you are. “I'm a pierrot clown.” 

He scoffs “I knew that.” 

“Sure you did, buddy.” 

There's a pause and then you both laugh but it dies down quickly and there's this tension between you both you don't really know why it's there.

You two didn't exactly connect that much last time. At least, you don't think you did. He was kind of drunk and you weren't really thinking straight either. 

“Y/N…” Your name sounds good out of his lips. 

“Yes?” 

“Why did you disappear last time?” 

That makes you laugh again. You didn't exactly plan on it, you were going to wait for him outside the closet but then you saw them kissing goodbye and your heart couldn't really stand it, so you bolted. 

You walk towards one of the two beds, sitting down on it carefully, to not disturb it too much. He follows you with his eyes, his head turning slightly in order to do so.

“You mean when I left the party? I didn't disappear on you,” that's not really a lie, you convince yourself. You kind of bid your goodbye to him that night “Didn’t think you wanted me to stay, either. Did they give you too much shit?” 

“For what?” 

“I clearly didn't kiss you that night. I think it was obvious, so… Your frat bros didn't give you shit for it?” 

Closing his eyes, the smile he gives you in return for the inside joke you two have going on makes your heart flutter “Stop insisting on that, will you?” 

“You can't really fight the truth, Wooyoung.” 

“Hm,” he walks over to you again, sitting on the bed next with his thigh touching yours. Innecesarlly so, because there's plenty of space, but you enjoy the warmth it spreads around your body so you don't say anything “You did tell me you didn't like liars.” 

“Oh, you remember that?” 

“I remember everything,” he nods, “I wasn't that drunk.” 

You give him a look “Weren't you?” 

He laughs again and you follow, pushing him slightly with your shoulder like you did back in the closet as well.

You don't really know what to say anymore, so you clear your throat slightly. 

“Are you enjoying the party?” 

“Are you?”  

“What do you mean?” 

“You seemed kind of sad when I saw you, there,” he points at the balcony and that makes you sigh. He noticed, kind of. That's disappointing and impressive at the same time. “I thought it was the makeup but it doesn't really seem like it.” 

“I’m not sad,” you admit, “I'm hurt.” 

“Isn't that the same thing?” 

“Not really, no,” shaking your head, you stare out of the big panel windows into the night sky. He doesn't need to know entirely, but you can tell him something about it “Remember the guy I told you about last time?” 

“The guy you went to the party for?” 

You nod “Well, he's here tonight too. With a date this time.” 

“Oh,” when you turn, catch him licking his lips before continuing and your eyes are fixed on the motion for a second too long “And that hurts you, duh, obviously.” 

You think it's adorable he's also a little nervous but you only smile and don't give him shit for it like you would do to anyone else “When you're obsessed with the idea of someone specifically seeing you a certain way, yes, it hurts,” you shrug “I'll get over it though.” 

“I feel that,” he says and you can imagine. You sensed it in his feelings last time, you can't actually believe the coincidence and irony of it all “Did you and this guy…?” 

“We went to highschool together. He was the only person who I thought saw me for who I was, whoever that is,” there's a bitterness in the laugh you let out you don't enjoy “We kissed a few times, he told me pretty things and I feel. Totally forgot about me when he had a summer glow up before we started our first semester, though.”

“Well, he's an asshole.” 

“He's not, not really,” and you desperately need to change the topic to him, so you bump your shoulder against him one more time “Did you come with your Sophie?” you ask, pretending to not know about Wonder Woman and the fact that she's here with somebody else. 

He catches who you're talking about, though and shakes his head, giving you. tight smile. 

“No, no, uhm… She has a date.” 

You hum “Are you hurt too?” 

“I'm bitter,” he whispers back, right away “Don't know if that's the same as being hurt, but I'm bitter.”

Silence falls comfortably around the understanding in between you both. You stare at each other, lips slowly curving upwards until you end up laughing yet again at the absurdity of the situations you're both in. 

“Guess we're just… A pair of losers tonight, huh?” 

“And what a pair we make.” 

You agree. There's this electricity running through you, you even dare to say it's running through him too and it makes you slightly regret not kissing him last week. 

If you did, the desire to do so right now would be easier to come to terms with. 

Thankfully, the same thing seems to be going through his mind “I know I was drunk, but I wanted to kiss you so bad.” 

“Are you drunk now?” You ask back in a whisper. He shakes his head. 

“Don't want to ruin your pretty makeup. Besides, you said last time—” 

You lean into his space a bit. 

“That was then,” you interrupt with a tiny smile “And now is now.” 

“That's how time usually works, yes,” he laughs and you join, rolling your eyes at the bad joke. You can see the second he makes the decision, his hand hesitantly finding your cheek and, when you don't recoil at the possible contact, he leaves it there “But are you sure it's okay?” 

You know why he's asking. He doesn't want to take advantage of a vulnerable moment, neither do you.

But you want to kiss him. 

“It’s matte,” you say instead and you hope he understands the real meaning behind your answer “The lipstick, it's matte. And the base It's set with really good powder, too, because I thought…” 

You thought that somebody else was going to kiss you tonight. 

He gets it. He understands why you did it and he scoffs with mild annoyance at it, which makes you smile. 

“Y/N,” he closes the distance between you even more and your breath hitches with anticipation before he whispers: “I'm going to kiss you so good, you'll forget about his lips forever.” 

That's the best thing someone has ever said to you, ever. You shudder at the thought and just stare, eyes dropping when he leans in further and his nose bumps into yours. 

“Do you want that?” 

Sleeping with Wooyoung won’t fix your problems. It sure won’t, not yours, not his but it doesn’t need to. You don’t know what the remedy for a wounded heart is but a distraction from the hurt can’t be all that bad. 

It's still a little bit pathetic how you whimper in response to his question. 

But it gains you the prize of tasting him for the first time, his minty flavor mixing with the remnants of whatever soda you had earlier and you sigh into the encounter. He’s not as delicate as you thought he would be. 

Wooyoung kisses you hard, with want, with need, with something you recognize in yourself and give back: the need for a distraction, for a feeling other than that hurt and bitterness you two mentioned not even three minutes ago. 

You don't know what to do with your hands, where to put them, but he fixes that. He grabs them, puts them on his shoulder, scoots a bit more into you and so your chest touches his and he sighs in contentment at that. 

You feel a little bit nervous, but that’s okay. 

It’s not like you’ve never been touched, like you’ve never done this sort of thing but it is the first time you want it. You want him. 

You’re not numb this time around, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when his other hand joins and keeps you in place, pulling back a second to take in some air before going back in for another toe curling kiss. 

Mind disconnecting from the outside world, you curse the layers of clothing (and there’s a lot) in between you when his hands travel down to your waist, against your body, caressing it and then grasping it in a way you’ve never felt before. 

It’s not rushed and it doesn’t really feel like something that you both want to get out of your system even though it is. You don’t really expect Wooyoung to ask you on a date after hooking up at a sorority party, after all. 

Oh. 

The party, that’s right. Did you lock the door? No, no. He walked in and didn't, you think. 

You can’t really think straight when he’s biting your bottom lip and then licking it as an apology for his misbehaving. It draws a breathy moan out of you and he drinks it, tongue meeting yours for the first time ever as you stand up from the bed, kiss never breaking, his body following yours. 

You’re wearing a lace ruffle white collar that goes with your costume. It’s cute, surprisingly not itchy at all and right now it seems to be getting in his way. His fingers look for the velcro clasp and then, when he loosens it enough, he janks it off. 

Somehow, you enjoy the theatrics and you giggle as his mouth abandons yours.

“Woo…” You manage to say when his lips start to make acquaintance with your neck, over your pulse. Craning your head to the side, he moves to the skin that unveils because of it and it’s hard to think of anything but the way you start to tremble under his touch. 

Grounding yourself by sinking your fingers in his hair, you attempt to speak again but he keeps distracting you. 

“Fuck, say that again.” 

Humming, you return “Woo,” you say again, “the door…”  

He moves to the other side of your neck “What about it?” 

“It’s— Oh,” teeth sink into your skin and you moan out loud, you can practically feel his smirk on your skin after that and your face burns as a consequence. “W-we need to lock it.” 

“Afraid someone will walk in on us?” he finally pulls away enough for you to see his face. His lips are swollen and there’s a flush across his cheeks that sits beautifully there when he smiles, forehead resting against yours a second later “You don’t like that thought?” 

There’s a part of you that doesn’t think it’s proper. It’s bad enough you’re hooking up with a somewhat stranger in a room that isn’t yours, but people finding out? That should terrify you. 

But it doesn’t. He seems to read it on your delayed response and the way your eyes widen with need when he pulls away again to watch your reaction to what he said. 

“You do, don’t you?” and then you’re moving, backwards, backwards, backwards until your back hits the door and there’s this passion glistening in his eye that excites you and sends spikes down your spine and into your core “You want people to know I’m kissing you dumb, hm? You want them to see what I’m doing to you?” 

He pauses and you feel like it’s on purpose, you feel like he takes in you heaving chest and the way your eyes follow the veins down his arms when he presses his hand behind you, pushing into your space a bit more and you should feel overwhelmed like you normally do with everyone else, but you don’t. 

You want him to get even closer.

“You want them to see what you do to me?” 

His whisper shakes you, awakens something in you that you desperately want to explore. It makes you feel shy and brave at the same time and the contradiction makes you bite down a smile. 

There’s no need for you to see what you’re doing to him, you can feel it when the hand that wanders to his waist pulls him closer, forward, until his hips meet yours and his leg finds a home between yours. Grunting, he raises a brow and gives you a knowing grin, but you enjoy surprising people. 

Your black gloves contrast against his skin and the white of his shirt when you caress the arm planted next to you and he follows the motion, letting out a breath “What if I don’t?” you ask, low, like it’s a secret you don’t want anyone else to find out even if you’re alone in this room “What if I want to keep you all to myself?” Watching his expression carefully, you try to measure if you’re crossing the invisible hookup line with your words but he closes his eyes and there’s no way for you to tell, so you correct your possible mistake in a whisper “For the night. You don’t want me to be only yours tonight?” 

Something twitches against your leg and the brief tension melts from your shoulder. Damn, you’re not that mouthy during these sort of scenarios so you almost, almost fucked up, huh? 

It doesn’t really matter when his free hand brushes his knuckles against your stomach, over your clothes and the ridiculously big buttons of your costume and then leaves you to twist the lock on the door “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, by the way.” 

“I want you.” The words get out before you think it through and you don’t mind it. You value honesty, you love when your body acts before your mind has the time to make you feel ashamed of your own feelings and wants. 

It pays off because his expression morphs in pure want and his tone is a whimper when he begs you, forehead meeting yours again “Again.” 

“I want you, Woo…” You whisper against his lips and then his mouth is on yours hungrier than ever before. The wood hurts against your back but Wooyoung’s hands pull you against him to move you away from it. 

This time, your hands know exactly what to do, because you know exactly what you want. They tug at his cape, trying to find the clasp of it with desperate trembles because your heart is beating faster and faster and you’re impatient, body too impertinent and rebelling against your wishes of taking this slow and savoring every little touch.

Cape on the floor, you feel his hand trying to figure out your costume. It makes you laugh and you’re glad he returns it, looking down at it and frowning at all the fabric he finds. With your hands against his chest, you push him into the mattress and he lands gracefully on it, supporting himself with his arms “I’ll do it.”

“Baby, this is a great costume and you look so fucking cute on it but why is there so much layering?” 

The nickname is new and he doesn’t seem to catch that it slipped out of his mouth so you don’t comment on it but it sure deepens the color on your cheeks and you laugh shyly, tilting your head to side in a playful manner. 

“I told you I like dressing up.” 

“And it shows! Mine’s a little simple,” without the cape, he just looks like a dude with a loose white shirt and black trousers. A handsome dude, but just a dude nevertheless “But I wanted you to find me, so…” 

“What was the first option?” 

“Beast Boy.” 

There’s something that crosses his expression that goes away the second he sees you slowly working the buttons and the skin underneath reveal after each one. His eyes fix on it and you’re sure you look ridiculous in the makeup and the get up and all but he’s looking at you with so much need you feel sexy wearing it. 

The shirt comes off. You’re wearing a cropped top and a bra underneath and you hook your thumbs under it to make him believe you’re taking it off, but you don’t. 

“You’re killing me.” He groans out and you laugh at him, making a show of bringing your hands down your torso and into your hips. You move to take off the striped bloomers that are matching with the tights you plan on taking off next. 

Your underwear doesn’t exactly match but you weren’t really planning on any of this with anyone. You weren’t planning on going this far but you don’t really care when it’s all, eventually, it’s just going to be off, so it doesn’t really matter. 

“Want to take these off yourself or you’re going to make me do all the work?” 

Smiling, he sits straight on the bed, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his mouth he nips the satin fabric of your glove, it loosening around your index when he pulls. He must see the way it affects you immediately, the way you breath catches, because the corner of his lips lifts up before he does the same to the thumb, the middle finger, the ring and the pinky and then he pulls the glove completely off. 

You feel like you short circuit for a second, even more so when he keeps the hand close to him and starts kissing the pad of your fingers so softly it doesn’t match the hunger in his eyes at all. 

And you’re killing him? 

It happens in a flash but the other glove is off and then your tights, your top and his shirt are off and on the floor and you’re sitting on his lap, tongue parting his lips and mouth bruising against his and you feel like you’re in a small pocket in time no one can really disturb. No one can burst this bubble, this cloud you land on when he turns you around and the expensive material of the sheets touches your bare back. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” 

When did he take off your bra? It doesn’t matter, his lips are making their way down your throat and exploring your chest, gaining puffs of air and moans from you when he flicks your nipples with his tongue, expert and careful, measuring your reaction and doing it again when your back arches off the bed instead of verbally asking for more. 

He kisses down, down until his teeth are catching your underwear. Looking up to you, he searches for an answer in your eyes and you both come to an unspoken agreement. Even if you’re both taking your time in exploring each other, there’s no actual time for him to eat you out, for you to get on your knees and taste him as well. 

You immediately wonder if there’s going to be another opportunity to do all of that. Either way, there’s not enough time to wonder. You help him get out of his trousers, his boxer briefs and you stare at him with an eyebrow up and an open and watering mouth. 

He laughs at your reaction, like he was expecting it. 

He stops laughing when you reach for him. Breathing hard when your thumb teases his tip, gathering precum, he shakes his head and you immediately stop “Baby, we… Not tonight.” 

Then when? You want to ask. 

You just nod before bringing the thumb to your mouth, tasting him and humming in content. Wooyoung leans in and puts his tongue on yours a second later.

He smiles, teeth sinking on your bottom lip before diving in for another kiss “Dirty girl.” He teases you and you shrug. 

“You look so good,” You say against him, pecking his lips, “Couldn’t help myself,” fingers grasping the hairs at the nape of his neck, like you did the night you met, you stop him from kissing you again just to whisper “You taste so good too.”   

His eyes almost roll at that, hips stuttering against you and almost brushing where they need to. “Fuck, don’t say shit like that to me, Y/N.” 

“Sorry.” You say but it’s clear in your smile that you’re not sorry at all and maybe you shouldn’t have because when it comes to taking your last piece of clothing off, he takes his time. 

Fingernails raise goosebumps as they softly go through your skin and he lets out a ragged breath “So fucking beautiful.” 

You feel beautiful. That’s good, because earlier tonight, before you catched him staring up at you on the balcony, you felt undesirable. You felt little, small, incomparable in the worst way possible because… Why not you? 

His words reassure you. Even if you know that’s something you need to do yourself (built enough confidence to not let the choices of a man who doesn’t give a damn about you define your self worth), it helps you tend that wound that reopened. 

He touches you and you feel worth it again. You believe it when your panties fall to the ground and your legs part for him and he looks at you in delight, thumb finding your clit and circling it right away “So fucking wet, fuck.” 

Your hips go up when he finds the right pacing, the right pressure to it and you really shouldn't moan this loud but you don’t care when he lets out a moan of his own at the way your face scrunches in pleasure “I want you.” You let out, breathy and pliant under his touch. 

“You got me,” he’s sweating but you don’t really care, you love the way his pretty nose touches yours when he leans in, index searching and then entering you. “Fuck, I could slip right in, hm? Is that what you want?” 

A moan slips out when he finds your sweet spot and strokes it carefully, he takes it as a reply and, honestly, it is all you can let out at the moment. You squeeze the second finger as it enters you, so it gives away how much you like the thought of that. 

“You do,” he says, teasingly and smiles against your lips as he pecks it “Dirty girl,” He repeats and you shake your head again, hips bucking up when the heel of his hand press against your clit and it sends a new wave of heat across your entire body “Impatient girl. I wish you were in my room now, fuck.” 

You wish that too.

“Woo…” 

“I had to—” 

“I know but there’s people—” Passing the door, you can sense it. In this midst of anything, you can sense it. 

“Who cares about them—”

There’s a phone vibrating somewhere in the room and it’s definitely not yours. He ignores it, fingers picking up their pace. 

“I need you,” you whisper, propping yourself up to kiss his mouth “Please, please fuck me.”

“I want you to come first.” He communicates his crude intention so cutely you might actually miss him when this is all over. 

“And I want to come with you.” 

That stops him and you can literally feel him get harder where he rests against your inner thigh.

“Condom?” You ask in a whisper. 

“Condom, right, fuck—” Both moving to reach his pants on the floor, you giggle and his lips find your cheek for a second as your torsos hang from the bed and you can safely say you never had more fun during sex before this. 

It’s lighthearted even if you’re both practically strangers and then it grows hot, sexy, passionate again when he finds the condom, breaks the package open and then rolls it on with practiced moves. He kisses you, laying back down against the pillows and aligning himself with your entrance. 

“Wait, let me just…” 

“What?” 

You turn around, laying flat on your chest and arching your back just a little so that you can open up your legs for him to enter. You look at him over your shoulder and his surprised expression makes you giggle “You never tried this one?” you ask and at his silence, you nod “Look how easy it is for me to—” Reaching down your stomach and reaching your clit with your fingers for him to see, you circle it a few times and close your eyes at the sensation. 

He kisses the small of your back “Holy fuck, Y//N.” 

“I told you that I’m coming with you, I’m helping.” 

He leans into you, his tip pressing against your clit deliciously “You’re so fucking hot, I almost came.” 

“That’s the point, Woo.” You say through pants, his hands kneading your ass and spreading you open for him to see. It’s a little nasty and you wonder what you both could do with a little more time and less people waiting for you outside. For him, at least. 

When he enters you, the moan that leaves you echoes his and you probably needed just a little bit more prep for the size of him but since you’re so turned on it barely matters when he’s completely seated inside of you and this position just makes it feel ten times better “You feel so good, baby, fuck.” 

“Yeah?” His chest is touching your back now and his lips are leaving open mouth kisses on your shoulder. He moves his hips experimentally and you moan into the sheets, sweat running down your neck and your chest into them but you don’t have time to feel bad for the owner of the bed at all “Was that okay?”

“You can go harder.” 

“Yeah? Fuck.” 

He complies right away and it feels so good you let yourself close your eyes and fully enjoy it, consequences be damned. 

People outside the room hearing you moan? Who cares when your fingers the weight of Wooyoung against you feels so right? 

When his thrusts help you grind your clit on your fingers just right, especially when he increases the speed of them and the wave of pleasure that hits you squeezes him around you so good his moan bounces off the walls and outside of the balcony where someone downstairs giggles and whistles. 

“Oh, God,” he says, a little ashamed but never slowing down and you turn your head, searching for his lips “We should’ve closed that door too.” 

You decide to tease him to wipe that emotion from him and just focus on you “Thought you wanted to give people a show.” 

Opening your eyes, you are able to watch when his eyes harden slightly at the thought, pace faltering as he lets out a tiny whimper. 

“And I thought you wanted me for yourself tonight,” he resumes his relentless pace, thrusting in and out of you with ease now and your cheek meets the sheets again so the bed can muffle your sounds “Maybe next time.” 

Next time. 

You don't really have time to dwell on what that means because you’re so worked up it won’t take much for you to come. You let Wooyoung know and he nods, his forehead against your shoulder again “Kiss me.” He whispers and you crane your neck to do so, to swallow his moans down and keep them with you forever. 

You swallow all of them down when his hips stutter and he comes and you know he keeps yours when you let yourself come right alone with him. He fucks you through both of your orgasms and slows down gradually until he grows sensitive and hisses at any tiny movement and your arms go kind of numb underneath you. 

There’s a sense of urgency your mind picks up immediately after but you ignore it. You have nowhere to go and they charged you twenty dollars to get into this stupid party so they can wait for you two to return to it. 

But there’s a phone vibrating somewhere. And even if you both hear it, Wooyoung turns you around and leans in to give you a kiss so sweet you almost want to keep it with you as well. 

When he pulls away, you wipe the sweat on his forehead with your hands and brush the hair out his face so delicately he closes his eyes and seems to enjoy your touch. 

Now what the hell should you say at a moment like this? Where he doesn’t seem in any rush to leave you and you don’t really want him to leave either. 

Do you tell him he did good? Do you tell him you enjoyed it, that he made you feel safe? That’s the first time in ages you enjoy a quick fuck this much? 

That—

“Please give me your number.” 

Oh, he’s actually adorable. He takes your stunned expression and silence the wrong way, though, and he sits on his knees, pulling out of you and working on getting his condom off while he speaks. 

“I can give you at least ten reasons you should give me your number. Number one, I enjoyed this a lot and I can do better if you give me time, number two—”

“Woo, you literally just fucked me with clown makeup on. I think we’re past you giving me reasons to sleep with you,” you sit up as well, taking his face in your hands again and leaning in to kiss his cheek soundly “Give me your phone.” 

He gets off the bed and looks around the room for the trash can. It’s a tiny one, sitting on top of a desk and you really, really start to feel bad for the girls who are going to have to sleep off their drunken night in this room. You’re surprised that no one knocked on the door but, on party eastern time, it’s still kind of early. 

Two thirty am reads the clock on Wooyoung’s phone when he hands it to you, unblocked. There’s messages flowing in and you try your best to not read them as you enter your number and name into his contacts but you do notice they’re from a group chat. 

You wonder if his friend group is big, if he’s close to all of them, what kind of friend he is. You’re impatient, you want to get to know him all of the sudden and you know it’s dangerous for expectations to grow after a hookup but, as you hand him his phone back, you can’t help but let out a “Woo, do you just want to fuck me or do you want to be my friend too? Something more?” 

He’s reading the messages on the group chat with a frown when your questions register in his brain and he looks up, a curious expression and a tiny smile “You’re very direct, aren’t you?” 

“I hate wondering and mysteries,” you shrug, “I don’t want to expect the wrong thing.”

“Fair,” he nods. “I’m more of a… Just wait and see what happens kind of guy, but if you want an honest answer I just don’t really know. I want to see you again, though.” 

“I want to see you again, too,” You murmur back and he smiles, leaning in a fraction to try and kiss you again but then there’s a thud against the door and a soft ouch coming from behind it that interrupts you “We should really get out of here.” 

It takes a millisecond for him to misinterpret what you meant, smirk growing on his lips when you shake your head disapprovingly and blushing while you pick your panties from the ground and get up to slip them on. 

“Not what I meant!” 

“I mean,” he starts to dress himself as well, “I wouldn’t mind.” 

“No,” you say but you don’t sound so sure of it yourself and it makes him smile even wider, so you roll your eyes. “Where are my…”

“Here.” He hands you the tights and you thank him, almost falling while trying to put them on fast the next second. He laughs at you “Just sit down, babe.” 

“Don’t laugh!” 

“I’m literally not!” 

You tease each other as you get in costume again. This time the fabric bothers you a little but only because you’re sticky and sweaty even if it’s the last day of october. 

Fully clothed, you walk to the door and you suddenly feel very shy and nervous at what can await you behind it. Wooyoung seems to see it on your face, so he steps in your space and kisses your lips sweetly, holding your waist respectfully like he didn’t just make you come less than ten minutes ago. 

“I’m so glad I met you,” he whispers against you and you melt even if you don’t want to. He doesn’t specify why and you don’t ask, but he does smile when you peck his lips one last time before stepping away “Do you want to step out together or do you want to go first, should I go first? We can meet downstairs,” he clarifies before you can think the worst and you giggle “We can leave together too, if you want.” 

You know he means the party. 

But his phone vibrates again, insistently shaking in his pocket and you rest your head against the door softly “I feel like you have people that need you right now.” 

He takes the phone out of his pocket. The screen reads “yuri”, with a series of heart emojis and a middle finger emoji at the end and his expressions turn worrisome immediately. 

“Shit, no, you’re right, um…” 

Stepping away from the door, you grab the knob and open it for him “Do your thing, Woo.” 

You think you know exactly who's calling him. 

Like you already knew, sleeping with Wooyoung didn't fix yours problems at all: 

It hurts that she's been chosen over you again, but you keep the soft smile on your lips either way. 

“I'll text you. I'll call you, I—” he leans into you again, stealing a hard, parting kiss that you probably are going to think about until he keeps his promise “Hey, everything alright?” You faintly hear when he picks up the call. 

When he leaves the room and closes the door behind him, you sag against the wood of it and let yourself meet the cold floor to try and plan out how you're getting out of there and how long it would take you to walk to your dorm room at this time. 

But then your phone digs in your hand, screen lighting up the dark room and your face. 

+82-8-918-2910: my friend got sick bc she drank too much. wish i could take you to your dorm. text me when you get there, yeah? x 

It makes you smile. Despite it all, it makes you smile really hard. 

+82-8-918-2910: it's wooyoung btw ;)  +82-8-918-2910: send me pic of how you save meeeee  +82-8-918-2910: okay my friend is puking in the pool and her date it's fucking useless i have to go text me back pls!! xx 

When you catch yourself re-reading the texts on your home screen and grinning, this time like a complete fucking idiot, you know you'll have to start thinking of another recipe to mend yet another broken heart. 

That's fine. At least you're not thinking about Superman anymore. 

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated, don't be afraid to go to my inbox and leave your thoughts there, i love reading them!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[trashmouth-richie]

ad caelum vel ad inferos, tecum sum to heaven or hell, i am with you

the final part [4.6k] geta x reader summary: death, smut, GORE

🥀dulcis ut rosa 🥀dulex 🥀vitiosis + deliciosus 🥀frangere me

s/o to my beta @rxqueenotd , and anyone else i’ve screamed at with over this fic 🤎

Blue skies could never compare to the icy hatred that filled Caracalla’s eyes as he stood above you, flanked by soldiers on either shoulder. “Perhaps the dungeon will help you remember which Emperor you are to be serving? Hm?” 

Blood trickled down your hairline, collecting in a slow drop from your chin onto the dirty floor. The cell was barely wide enough to lay down in. A piss pot stood full in one corner, its odor still more pleasant than the sickly aroma of Caracalla’s breath when he found you waiting for Geta. 

You had been startled seeing him instead of the man you had spent the last many nights crying for. Trying to run you were hit hard and the rest was gone until you woke up here. 

A swift kick to your legs and chest, had you doubling over, the pain boiling hot in your veins. 

“How incompetent do you think I am?” Caracalla spit. “My brother doesn’t move throughout these walls without me knowing. Months! He’s been fucking your mouth raw, spilling his seed down your throat after nights spent in luxury with me!” A giggle bullies out from his lungs, “did you think I hadn’t a clue? An inkling as to why his chamber stood empty at the same moment that you left mine?” 

You haven’t said a word and you refused to, he didn’t deserve an explanation. 

A tear slips down his rouge painted face, “I confided in you, we were soulmates you and I. Geta is nothing! He feels nothing!” 

You shook your head, unable to accept his words. “How did you do it, magae. How did you bewitch my brother to fall for your wickedness?” 

Raising your chin in spiteful defiance, you glared into his disgusting putrid eyes, “You pathetic, sniveling swine— I am no such witch, but I can not wait to witness the carnage Geta will bestow upon you.” 

Caracalla giggles in a high pitched tone, “oh my dear, he will be long dead before that shall ever happen,” he looks around at the moldy holed dungeon, “maybe you can charm the rats while you’re rotting away waiting for your precious Geta.” 

—

Wind and insects scratched at his face as he pushed his horse faster, hooves kicking up sand and rocks in a storm as they raced for Palace Hill. Geta screamed with rage when Acacius told him of your demise, knowing exactly who was behind it. What a fool he was for leaving you unattended. Caracalla must have found out, and maybe he himself was too blind by Cupid’s lust to notice the changes within his own kingdom. 

Tears squeezed from the corners of his eyes as he imagined the perils of danger you were now in— because of him.

His reins slapped sharply against the muscled backside of his horse as he pumped every ounce of strength from the mare to get home- to get back to you.

Whatever Caracalla had done, heads would fucking roll once he got back. That was a promise. 

—

How many days had it been? Four? A week? The dark had made you lose count. 

At times you weren’t sure if your eyes were open or closed, the pitch black was endless, curling around you like smoke and suffocating any happiness you had tried to muster. 

The dungeon was crawling with vermin, caked with disease and body fluids from decades before you had been tossed in here like a rabies riddled dog. Food had stopped coming, water was scarce except for the trickle of fresh springs that siddled down the stone wall. At least you told yourself it was a fresh spring that you were consuming, but more than likely it was tainted water that kept you alive. 

You prayed to the Gods that Geta would come for you. That he wasn’t head first into a war that he agreed to when you pushed him away. You were so stupid for doing so, but you couldn’t help the racking sobs when you pictured how hurt he was… and crying harder yet when realizing, that was the last time. 

Days had passed and you could feel your mind slipping from you. Exhaustion, dehydration settling in had you hallucinating images of the Emperor. It was almost comforting the way your mind was protecting itself, throwing you into an alternate reality of laying in his lavish bed instead of the hard shit-soaked stones. 

You could feel his blunt nails tickling your sides, but in truth it was beetles gnawing on your bare skin. Geta kept you warm and safe in your head, even though it was apparent from the lack of food, proper sunlight, and clean water—that you were falling ill. 

—

It hadn’t been that long since Geta had left, but approaching the Hill had his skin crawling. Dismounting his mare, everything seemed odd. 

It was unusually quiet. The air felt sharp against his skin. Smelled of pungent rot, souring his nose. The wind seemed to howl a song he hadn’t recognized— the sickly tune of a kingdom at war with itself. 

His father had trained them both on how to rule with force, how to command an army, to hold rank and battle to the blood flowing end—their enemies head on a stake. 

Caracalla by himself was juvenile when it came to war tactics, knowing the basics of stationing men on watch, high in the walls on the terraces. Two men for each direction, pointing their noses North, East, South and West. A handful of guards on the entrance. 

If this was a war with any other enemy— Geta would have spent a full sun tracking their movements meticulously. But never had his enemies captured something so dear to him. 

Acacius landed from his own horse beside Geta’s kneeled form, knowing his thoughts before he could even act on them. 

“It’s unwise, my lord…” he said carefully, placing a weathered hand on Geta’s shoulder, “we cannot risk the element of surprise when our emotions are clouding our judgment.”  

Geta’s eyes twitched as he stared ahead at the palace, his mind traveling to where you were being kept, knowing in his heart it was in the deepest part of the palace, the south dungeon.

He breathed raggedly through his nose before he spoke between gritted teeth, “I will paint all of Rome with their innards for what they’ve done, and I will not stop until their bodies are drained of all their blood.” 

Acacius shook is head in worry, clearing his throat, “you’re mind is unclear, you should rest before—”

Adrenaline raced through Geta’s veins as he mounted his mare, “I’m going, with or without your help. What good am I to her waiting for calculated time?” 

Acacius threaded a hand through his salty peppered hair, eyeing his emperor— his friend. His voice was riddled with pain when he spoke, “what good are you to her if you’re dead?” 

Geta pondered this, but his reply was simple, and he said the most truthful thing that has ever passed his lips, “I’ll be the man she makes me want to be.” 

—

“Up! Get up!” 

Caracalla had figured once Geta found out that his precious whore was locked away and starved that he  would be on his way to come and rescue you. He waited day and night for his brother’s return. And finally— there was a spec in the distance. His brother returning in all his glory. 

He skipped down to the dungeon— literally skipping and hopping on one foot in glee as he came down to the depths of the palace to retrieve you for the final act.

A hand clasped harshly in your hair, yanking you from a deep sleep, followed by a taunting giggle.

You had grown weak in your time secluded from light and clean air. Unable to stand on your own properly, Caracalla brought you to your feet like you were a doll, the flame he held showed just how manic and possessed he had become. 

He was like a poisoned animal practically foaming from the mouth with insanity. Biting his lip constantly, chewing and gnawing, infesting it with sores. He wore his best robes, bangles jingling as he brought you closer to his face. 

Jumping back, he lets your body slump against the bars, a hand to his chest, “Yuck— you smell like horeshit! Maybe we should have fed you more, bathed you… I’ve never been very good with keeping pets…” 

Caracalla rubs his chin for a moment, then as if he is brought back from a different time, he claps twice,  “oh well, time to go, your precious Geta is here and it’s time to play!”

You try to fight back feebly, trying to shove his face away from you, your filthy fingernails clutching at his doughy powder coated flesh.

“C’mon!” he pleads like a child, pushing your hands down and bringing a blade to your neck, “you’re going to be the star of the production and you simply can’t miss the show!” 

When sunlight hit your skin it was like you were being burned alive. Your feet scuffed against the stone steps, and you were winded from the climb. Everything was so bright as if you were looking directly into the suns beams. 

Caracalla hissed into your ear, the pungent smell of fruit and fish combining into a stomach twisting aroma as he whispered, “you’ve been such a delight to us here, I will be so upset to see you dead… I’ve been practicing my tears and cries of mourning for when you’re laid to rest with my brother.”

“You won’t be triumphant against him,” you croaked trying to wiggle free from his hold. 

Caracalla giggled before winding back and slapping your cheek, “why do you have to speak such lies? You will die by his hand— squashed like the gnat you’ve become.” 

—

The palace walls roared. 

Thundered like a storm of bees defending their hive. Clashes of swords and weapons gleamed like lightning against a dark sky. Amongst the clouds of dust from the lack of harvest rain, blood splattered the stones like oil paint to a canvas. 

Geta’s revengeful carnage had begun. 

Carnage was colored with maroon and deep sets of rubies in a hilt. Specs of pinkish brain membrane laid out like flower petals at a wedding. 

Carnage was the sound of teeth chipping at the root being ripped away from the gum line, the sheath of a knife embedded into a lung, an abdomen, the muscular thigh of one of Caracalla’s more prominent men. 

Carnage reeked of shit and death. The humble hands of Pluto himself, stretching his claws to welcome home another victim. 

Carnage was Geta, annihilating anyone who stood in his way to get to you. A force built with bared teeth and rippling muscles, sweat dripping from his honey hair. Eyes as black as coal— soulless in every sense of the word. 

The men falling dead by his hands trembled in cowardice when they saw him coming, forgetting how powerful he was with a sword. 

Swords drew silent, the only sound being the pooling fountains now tainted with blood from the dead. Everyone in the palace was either lying deceased or were in hiding, waiting for this hell to end. But Geta had only just begun. 

“Brother!” he shouted, his voice echoing against the marble stone, deep and ragged with exertion. He was standing at his throne then, bodies laying at a heap by his feet, his body covered in their blood, “I know you’re around, Caracalla—answer me!” 

Beyond the pillars behind the tapestries, Caracalla stood with a knife pressed into the meat of your neck, his breath hot against your cheek— a giggle forming in his throat like a child tucked away during a game of hide n seek.

“It’s a shame, Geta,” he announced, his voice ricocheting off the walls, “a fucking shame that you are so soft for this common whore when you’ve had so many, father would be disappointed.” 

Geta’s eyes narrowed, listening for any bit of noise underneath Caracalla’s feet to give him away. He moved on nimble feet, each move more quiet than the next as he waited with trained ears for Caracalla to speak again. 

“What is between you and I, has nothing to do with her— she is merely caught in the middle of our feud— let, her go.” 

Caracalla’s laugh pierced your ear, ringing loudly like a hyena as spit flew from his manic mouth. “She is much more than a simple bystander dear Geta… otherwise you wouldn’t care so proudly.” 

Geta strode towards the direction of his brother’s voice, waiting in the shadows. “You have always been less, why do you think mother and father had me? I was to make up for your shortcomings, so that Septimius Severus would have a decent heir. One who could actually keep the family name in Rome.”

“Enough!” Caracalla screamed, shoving you forward into the clearing, his blade still pressed into your neck, a line of crimson dripping from it, his frantic panicked laugh bubbling behind a shriek, “there will be no heirs for you, brother! I was going to offer her life in place of your crown, let you both be on your merry little way but you just don’t get it do you? I will rule on my own, and you will both be left to rot in the dungeons. Poetic isn’t it?! Two lovers dead by my hand.” 

With the way your head was arched toward the ceiling, you couldn’t see Geta. You could only hear a hitch in his throat at the sight of you. The sodden robes you wore, the filth caked to your skin. 

Geta didn’t move, knowing that Caracalla would be more likely to accidentally cut you deep enough to kill you if he tried to do anything drastic. But the look of you made his stomach curdle like cows milk left in the summer heat.  

The once plump and luscious curves you had were gone. The robes you wore were next to rags. You had been locked away far longer than he had imagined. Possibly weeks before he had even got word of it. If you truly had been with child, there was no tell of it now. Tears stung behind his eyes, but he wouldn’t let them drop.

“Mother should have drowned you in the river like a litter of pups,” he nearly whispered, eyes trained on his brother, “release her or I will slaughter more of your men leaving their poor wives to be widowed.” 

“Now why would I do such a thing? I’m having the time of my life orchestrating this production.” They both moved then circling like the gladiators would in the coliseum, baiting one another to strike first.

Geta’s eyebrows furrowed at Caracalla’s choice of words… production? 

“Must you be so dense? So surface leveled?” Caracalla answered, “Jessaphina, that wart—terrible actress but she did the job, made this concubine believe every word.” Caracalla grinned like a opossum eating a pile of shit, dragging you with him, your hair wrapped tight in his clutch.

Geta’s eyes never leave Caracalla, his movements smooth and languid as he counts his steps, seconds. 

“Pliteus, the guard who told her to meet you at ‘your spot’ another spy, made actor by yours truly, for the Theatre, of course. And all that leaves is you, Geta. You will be the widower, the brute left in tears of sorrow pleading for a whore’s life. Gods!— I shall be famous when this is through!” 

“You’re demented,” you managed against the sharp blade, cutting yourself in the process, “sickenly so.” 

Caracalla wretched his hand twisting your head back with a snap, causing you to yelp, ”I’m an artist you rancid cow! Can’t you see that?! This was all a form of expression— your uneducated brain would never be able to appreciate such a thing— it’s why I put this all into motion!” 

“So what?” Geta spit,  “you were bored? Needed an activity to keep your cogs oiled enough for you to not slit your wrists in the baleneum, again? You’re a child!” 

Caracalla giggled wickedly mad, “People will write about me for the end of time and how I bested Publius Septimius Geta! You will be nothing more than a myth—erased from memory entirely!” 

Geta stopped, his sword pointing toward his brother. The wind didn’t howl, silence fell between them.

“It will be a true honor to breed my empress in a bed of your blood while she wears her crown.” 

With a jerk of his head, Acacius moves, causing the distraction they had planned. The arrow missing Caracalla’s foot purposefully, causing him to lose his balance and hold on your body. You fell to the ground taking advantage of his blundered state, crawling on all fours away from him. 

Just as the swing of Geta’s blade was centimeters from the skin of Caracalla’s neck, it was stopped with his knife, a crude smile licked onto his lips. “I know your moves dearest brother, you forget it was you and I as children playing these games.” 

Caracalla pushes the sword from him and jabs the tip of the knife into Geta’s bicep. Tearing through tendons and muscles with each twist of his hand. 

“War is not a game,“ Geta gritted, tripping Caracalla with a swipe of his foot until he was on his knees before him, “…and it’s time you realize that.” 

A toss of Acacius sword into Geta’s open hand, and he pressed two blades crossed beneath Caracalla’s chin. 

Caracalla’s throat bobbed against the sharp steel, accepting his defeat, “make it swift precious brother, I intend to see father before the sun sleeps.” 

The blades sung as they severed his head from his spine. Blood sprayed and pooled from the limp teetering body of Caracalla, swords clattered to the ground as Geta stumbled to your side, holding you to him in a bone crushing grasp. 

“You’re safe now.” A tear fell onto your head as he cradled your body into his. 

Your body was still weak as you clung to him practically lifeless as he lifted you from the ground. He instructed Acacius on what to do with the mess. Geta carried you to his private bath, stripped you gingerly of your clothes and bathed you with exceptional care. His lips kissing tenderly to every scrape, every bruise. 

He tutted through his teeth and hissed when your tears fell as he gently wiped the dirt and infection from your cuts. His own tears flowing down his cheeks, mumbling how sorry he is how stupid he was for ever leaving. 

When you tried to speak he shushed you quietly, “not now my dulcis rosa,” he soothed as he scrubbed soap into your hair, you lifted a hand to caress his cheek, coaxing a small smile from him.

Geta called to his servants— that weren’t killed—to gather fresh robes and to fix you something warm and easy to eat. 

He dried your skin once you were cleansed. Rubbing oils and ointments into each ache and pain, dressing the wounds in such expertise you wondered if he had done this often, probably to his own scars. 

Up those winding stairs he carried you to his quarters, never wavering, never once adjusting you in his strong arms.

The room was thrown into its usual cozy dark ambience. His bed was made with enormous feathered pillows, a tray next to the bed with a plate of porridge dressed with honey and figs. 

Once Geta had set you gently onto the pillows propping you up so you could eat, he shook his head when you reached for the spoon. 

“Let me,” he commanded quietly, his eyes large and wet. 

More tears slipped past your lashes as he sniffed largely, blowing gently on the bite of food. “When was your last meal?” 

“I’m not sure of what day we are in,” you answered quietly, “or how long I was there… I lost track.” 

Geta bit back a sob as he brought the spoon to your lips, “It shouldn’t have happened, I shouldn’t have left you so vulnerable.” 

“Please,” you practically begged, swallowing the warm sweetened wheat.  He looked broken, his under eyes dark and his eyelid twitching uncontrollably. Weeks the two of you had been separated and you couldn’t bear the thought of him spiraling for what had happened.

“We are together again,” you whispered, “I do not want to live in past mistakes. Caracalla is gone now, we must move forward, no dwelling.” 

“Forgiveness of thyself has never come easily for me,” Geta admitted wiping a dreadful sigh from his face, “but I can only hope you now know that there has never been another for me—I am so deeply in love with you, gnat.” 

You reached for him pulling him into you until the weight of his body melted with yours. Feverish lips tasted the sweat from his neck as you desperately ached for more of it, pressing your own devotions into his skin, your own words of cupid's love.

Geta’s strong arms wrapped around your back, holding you tenderly as if you were glass. pressing a single searing kiss to your collarbone before leaning back, his eyes staring into yours, “In this lifetime and the one that follows, I will forever be yours— ad caelum vel ad inferos, tecum sum.”

“Ad caelum vel ad inferos.” 

—

Caracalla’s room was sealed off. His belongings burned in the coliseum along with his body, as if he were a monster that could only be considered dead by smoldering licks of flame. 

Geta left the fate of the others up to you. He had wanted them dead the next day, hung from a rope by their necks as they swung with the breeze, paraded around behind his team of horses until they’re skin was pulled from their bones. But you… had other plans. 

Animals from other territories were brought in by the shipload, each more vile and vicious as the next. They were hungry, trained to attack at the smell of garments worn by a certain woman with a healing broken nose. 

It was maybe a bit too grotesque, maybe a bit unhinged the way you had Acacius’s best men tie Jessaphina up from her ankles and wrists one to each post in the center of the coliseum.

And maybe it was a bit over-the-top when you personally rubbed greasy fat and cow entrails all over her body to taunt the beasts on even further. 

But Geta only smirked at your own impressive drive for bloodlust when you stood before your throne hollering for the men to open the gates, releasing the hungry scavengers one by one letting them sniff out their meal. 

Geta watched in admiration as your eyes turned dark, black pools taking over your pretty gaze as Jesspahina’s screams rang through the air

You couldn’t get your hands off of him when her body lay ripped to shreds, her bones being tossed around between snarling teeth and sharp black claws. The sand colored in her crimsoned blood. You pulled him from his own throne by the front of his shirt, yanking him into a small private room covered by a drapery for a door.

“My little demonic empress,” Geta growled as he pushed himself further into you, groaning when you whimpered out, your lip bit between your teeth, robes rucked up to your chest, “you just might be more evil than I am, have my ways rubbed off on you?” 

The passion between you two had never dulled. Each day it seemed to grow with fervorous desire. Some days Geta fucked into you until you were too sore to walk. Your bodies were both painted with stains from sucking mouths and marks from gnashing teeth. Each time better than the last. 

You were soaked when Geta knelt before you, his nose pressed into your sex as you circled your hips onto it. He stood and shoved his clothing out of the way, yours already stuffed beneath your chin. and when he slammed his fat cock into you the darkness returned. Two demons fucking at the loss of life and smell of blood in the air. 

“Practically getting off to a hideous murder in front of my mother and the others, my my…” he hissed, wrapping a hand around your throat squeezing until your breath rattled beneath his palm, “you truly were sent to me from the Gods weren’t you?” 

You nodded, moaning when he attached his lips to your neck, pinching your nipple until it purpled. “Nothing makes me happier than seeing the deserved slaughtered.” 

Geta groaned as your clenching pussy gripped him as you came undone, his own release following closely behind, yelling out your name. 

“I have a surprise for you,” he breathed raggedly into your neck, adjusting your robes back into place, sweat pouring from his brow.

Your smile squeaked against his ear, “it is not even my birth date, Geta, you are spoiling me.” 

Leaving the room Geta kisses your palm, “no,” he agrees, “it is not, but am I not allowed to gift my wife with divine luxuries?” 

“You are, but you don’t need to give me anything…” you say, holding your belly with which the healer confirmed that you were indeed with child all along. Something Geta never let you forget that he knew you better than you knew yourself. 

His lips pressed to your cheek, his hand laying delicately on your stomach as you whispered, “you’ve given me enough as it is.” 

He smiled wickedly pulling back to lace your fingers with his own, “come,” he commanded, pulling you back towards the palace. 

—

The great stone table stood bare except for a golden cloth. Acacius proudly stood guard next to it, bowing upon the sight of you. 

“My lady,” he greeted, smiling at the sight of your radiant face, then facing Geta with the same warm smile, “Emperor.” 

“Thank you,” Geta said, rubbing his hands together excitedly, “hope you didn’t have any trouble getting it?” 

Acacius smirked and adjusted his sword on his belt, “not at all, they were quite thrilled to be rid of it.” 

Geta rippled out a laugh from his throat as he stood behind the table, his large hands pressed into it, “I can only imagine… Gnat, my love, are you ready?” 

“As I will ever be,” you said cautiously, stepping up to the table. 

Acacius stood back as Geta pinched a piece of the cloth between his fingers, “presented to you, my undying devotion,” he said sweetly before pulling the cloth revealing your present. 

Anyone else would have ran and screamed, damning him to hell. But you were unlike everyone else, and you saw the beauty in his gift and the meaning behind it. 

Blood had been drained, the smell minimal, and judging by the way the darkness that filled Geta to the brim and now poured into yourself was clouding your eyes, the mad tick of your lips as they perked up in greed: you were pleased. 

“It is exquisite, amor meus,” you smiled wider, getting closer to your present. 

Geta looked at you proudly, his eyes inky and shining. His gnat, his dulcis, his wife, his empress— his tainted heart content for the first time in his life, and it was all thanks to you. “Where shall we put it, the mantle?” 

You picked it up, holding it high to the sky for the Gods to see, “a gift more precious than gold deserves to be seen, for all—don’t you think?” 

Sat on a pedestal, his name engraved on a piece of wood, a large red rose sewn between his lips, was the severed head of Caracalla. 

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[no-phrogs-in-hats]

Could you possibly do a fic with Agatha x Reader where the coven plays Seven minutes in heaven game and Agatha has Reader's turn and Agatha is very happy?

Back in the Closet !NSFW!

Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Warnings: AU where the coven is not hundreds of years old witches, everyone is drunk, seven minutes in heaven, light smut, drunk sex, sort of semi public-ish sex???? idk reader and agatha have sex in a closet

A/N: I was high when I wrote this but I was way too excited to wait to sober up and I usually have my best writing ideas when in this condition anyways. Hope you like it anon!

It was your third annual Christmas-and-Yule get together with the coven, and this time, with Billy being out of town for college, things were a bit wilder than before. This one had more alcohol than the previous one–spiked eggnog, four bottles of wine (two red, two white), and hard liquor on the cocktail cart in the dining room.

At the kitchen island, talking with the other coven members, you held your fourth vodka cranberry-apple, “Has anyone talked to Billy?” “I only talk to him when he talks first,” Agatha shrugged. “Usually it’s him sending me stupid Instagram posts or sending me a TikTok and saying, ‘This you?’.” She ended with a poor impression of Billy, taking a sip of her eggnog when the other women laughed.

Alice, who sat beside you, answered, “He’s doing okay–a bit stressed out over finals, but he says his grades are good.”

Now, after the sun had set and the coven moved to the living room (and everyone was more than tipsy), things began to escalate. 

In the middle of a nice game of Never Have I Ever, you had only three fingers down–the least of them all, with Agatha having the most down at nine.

“Okay, okay!” Alice called through the laughing and commenting on the last round. “Never have I ever…played Seven Minutes in Heaven…”

Everyone put a finger down–everyone, but you. Your cheeks heated with embarrassment and you almost wished you had lied instead. It was embarrassing enough to be almost half their age, but them knowing you were so inexperienced in life was even worse.

“You’ve never played? I played it all the time at parties in high school.” Jen gaped. 

“Parties?” Lilia scoffed, her body swaying from the alcohol and seven fingers still up from Never Have I Ever. “In my group we’d do it at regular hangouts. Come full circle, I suppose. I should’ve predicted it with this coven.”

You shrank into yourself and sighed, “No, I’ve never played…I was sort of…a loner in high school, so…”

Lilia, Jen, Alice, and Agatha looked at you in awe before breaking into giggles and gasps.

“Switching games!” Jen hollered, smiling widely as the rest cheered.

You couldn’t help but look at Agatha when this happened. In the beginning, you thought the crush was innocent–the emotions were high on the Road and you blamed it on that. But that was almost three years ago and it still hadn’t stopped.

Now you were in Agatha’s living room watching her as she laughed with the other women, and your heart ached.

“I’ll go first,” Jen said, taking an empty wine bottle and placing it on the floor.  “Basically, you spin a bottle and whoever it lands on is your partner for that round. You go into a closet, and set a timer for seven minutes. Then, as long as you both consent, you can do whatever you’d like.”

The seven minutes during Jen’s turn felt like it was dragging on forever–until it was your turn. 

“Alright,” Jen smiled, looking directly at you. “It's your turn.”

You leaned forward and spinned the bottle. “Okay…uhhh…” You watched it carefully and when the bottle stopped spinning, your heart nearly leaped from your chest. 

It landed on Agatha–and she looked beyond thrilled.

With cheers whoops of encouragement from the rest of the coven, you followed Agatha to the closet trying not to feel embarrassed. 

“Oh, no,” you sighed. “Back in the closet, I go.”

Agatha chuckled and pushed you through the doorway, “Oh, shut up and get in.”

The voices of Jen, Alice, and Lilia finally subsided when the door to the closet shut. 

It was quiet–so quiet you could hear your heartbeat.

“You’re trembling,” Agatha whispered, her hands running along your forearms. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

“No!” you said quickly. “No, I want to, I just–I’m nervous is all.”

Agatha smirked and leaned in closer, “Nervous? How so?” Her face was just inches from yours and it was only coming closer. Her hands moved to your waist and you struggled to answer as her lips hovered over yours. “Is there anything you want to tell me before we take this further?”

You could feel your underwear practically soak itself. You looked at her lips and back into her eyes, “I–Umm–” At the sight of her starting to giggle, you started to as well. “I…kind of have…a little crush on you…?”

“There it is,” Agatha said. “It’s painfully obvious.” Blood rushed to your face and you felt yourself become warm again. You always thought you hid it well, but clearly, no one could outsmart Agatha.

You were about to open your mouth to respond but had no chance to when her lips locked with yours. She pulled away, just enough so that her lips brushed against yours, “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do this…How badly I’ve been dying to get my hands on you.”

Agatha’s lips were back on yours and she pressed you against the wall of the closet. “We have five minutes left–”

“Then show me how badly you want me, Agatha,” you breathed, the alcohol getting to your head and bringing out your confidence.

And that’s exactly what she did. Her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your pants and ran through your slick, fingers rubbing circles on your clit.

“Is this okay?” she muttered.

You were completely engrossed in the pleasure. The mix of the alcohol and the feeling of requited love from Agatha made it hard to form a complete thought.

Her fingers lightly took your chin, tipping it so that she could look in your eyes. “We have three and a half minutes. Answer me.”

“Yes,” you huffed. “Yes, don’t stop! Oh my god, please don’t stop.”

She smiled and kissed you softly, “That’s a good girl.”

Your arm hooked around her shoulder and you brought her in for another passionate kiss, muttering incoherent words into her mouth. The pleasure was building and building, and wouldn’t stop. The darkness of the coat closet added another layer of eroticism that you hadn’t even thought about before.

“Yes! Don’t stop! Don’t stop, Agatha, please,” you begged. “I’m g–”

“Alright, you two!” Jen shouted from the living room. “Time’s up!”

You groaned and Agatha giggled after she took her hand out of your pants. She placed a small kiss on your cheek and opened the door.

“Don’t worry. If you decide to stay over tonight, I promise there’s more where that came from,” she muttered, winking as she pulled you out of the closet by your arm and pushed it closed with a bump of her hip.