gabe vc: i demand a kiss or else i'll get that raccoon a tattoo / @khayinaat hdjdks give him attention smh
oh my god @khayinaat
IT TAKES A SPECIAL MAN TO DO THIS: barge heedlessly into the dwelling of a witch when she’s busy practicing, walk through her bedroom pulsing with power without a care in the world, and stare down unflinchingly as her concentration makes her hair whip around her face like banners in the wind and turns her eyes supernova. red lifts her head from her cards ( trying to do a reading for herself, and there they are, blank and bare! ) and fixes him with a contemplative look. the magic recedes. her hair settles, and the gold sparks leave her irises to make way for something else entirely.
she stands up, brushing off the sweater she’s wearing ( his! ) with exaggerated care. it stops a little past her thighs, shows bare skin that still shimmers faintly with an otherworldly sort of glow. and then she’s advancing on him, lifting her chin in defiance, standing on tiptoes, trying to bridge the gap between them. IT’S NOT ENOUGH, NOT YET, but she is able to brush her lips against his neck, just below his ear. they part, and the world holds its breath.
“ —— I DON’T NEGOTIATE WITH TERRORISTS.”
the standoff lasts for all of ten seconds. their eyes meet, narrow, darken, and then they’re moving all at once. his hands grab her ass and she’s airborne, hoisted up against him, throwing her arms around his neck to ensure she stays that way. their noses touch; their gaze slides down. and her fingers scrape against the nape of his neck just as his lips meet hers and tries to take her breath away. IT’S A CHALLENGE SHE DECLARES, leaning into him, shifting her weight, forcing him to take a step back ——
—— and the walls spin briefly as the backs of his knees hit the bed and he goes down, nails digging into her skin, taking her with him. SHE HITS HIS CHEST WITH A LAUGH, her wild mane of hair falling over her shoulders as she bends over him, tracing a finger down the ridge of his cheekbone. his mouth opens; she covers it with her own before he can get a word in, tracing his teeth with her tongue until she’s given him everything, all of her breath, and has to pull away. the air between them hums with a now-familiar sort of warmth: her magic, seeping through the cracks. she leans down, bunts her nose delicately against his.
“you lose, a tuín.”
