#i had SO MUCH FUN writing this
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grimesgirll · 10 months ago
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“good fucking girl.”
is definitely not something rick should be saying to his best friend’s girlfriend - especially not with his cock halfway down her throat.
the moment shane had stepped out for a run with glenn and michonne, you and rick were all over each other. you couldn’t handle sneaking into rick’s bed down the hall anymore. you were bound to end up in his lap on the sectional, pawing at him like a bitch in heat.
it’s not that shane didn’t fuck you; he took every chance he got. you’re just enamored with rick. ever since your boyfriend had “shared” you with his fellow officer, rick had been on your mind.
the way his brown constable’s jacket fit against his muscles when they flexed. the glint of his chocolate curls. how good he is with judith.
rick gets you goin’ in a way shane hasn’t for quite some time. he was right when he got you down on your knees back at the rest stop. you did look at rick like you wanted to drain him and then have him bend you over and fuck you silly - and that’s what ended up happening.
ever since that day, shane got off on toying with you and having you sit on rick’s cock in addition to his own. he uttered excuses about the stresses of their new duties as constable but you just slid down your denim skort and squealed the occasion away.
you’re quiet now, nice and muffled on rick’s dick as you swallow around him. the motion has him twitching in your mouth. wanting to finish off inside of you for the night, the thick length in your mouth is withdrawing and suddenly you’re in that familiar face down position again.
“so wet, baby,” rick remarks in awe as his length brushes your slippery entrance.
you’re squeezing your thighs together - trapping him between the pillowy soft surfaces. “rick,” you cry. “c’mon, already.”
“what’d we say?”
you swallow, a tear from how needy you are sliding down your cheek. “please, sir.”
you could care less if shane walked in right now. as long as rick keeps driving his hips into yours and breathing your name like a prayer, you’ll be content. content to get fucked silly by the man before he takes you in his arms and spends the night with a hand on your waist and his nose buried in your hair.
that’s after though.
now, you’re being nearly fucked up the couch.
rick’s just enjoying the way your sweet little cunt grips him like it needs him. the little thing sucks him in even better than your mouth.
and you’re a whole other story. sweat sticking to your glistening forehead, you’re babbling incoherent thoughts, strung out on the cock molding you to his shape.
your slick is pooling around rick like he’s in the fucking atlantic. so close to losing it all over him already, you’re making an absolute mess of the couch that you’ll have to resolve before shane gets home. don’t want him suffering from any fear of missing out.
the man is swept from your mind when rick absolutely crams his cock inside of your clinging cunt. the kiss to your cervix is enough for you to start seeing spots around the older man making you take his cock so well.
every time you park your pussy on rick’s thick dick and come, you ground down, grasp his hand, do anything to get as close as possible. feeling him to skin to skin is second only to feeling him fill you up. the filthy praises coming from his lips come close as well.
“fuck, baby, so nice and tight. you want me to come inside you, huh? have shane come home to this pussy all messy?”
you’re shaking your head like you have any idea what you’re asking for. “yes, rick! i want you to make a mess of my pussy.”
“then come all over this cock, honey.”
“mhmm, rick, i-,”
“that’s it.”
“i love how deep you are, rick-,” you’re bumbling like an idiot and muttering a string of “i love you”s as the dam bursts and you come undone on rick’s cock.
the pulsing warmth beneath you is accompanied by a husky, “i love you too,” and a chorus of your name into your shoulder as rick used his horsecock to fuck you two through your climaxes.
the friction on your clit heightens the heat surrounding you and flooding into you from rick. you’re almost overwhelmed by the bruising kisses rick purples onto your neck as he gathers you on top of him.
“you did so good, honey,” he’s praising you and you’re just nodding, humming, “thank you”s and “i know”s until he’s bear hugging you again. the way he nuzzles into your neck from behind and exhales into your hair is enough for you to forget trudging up to bed and drift off into rick’s touch right there.
you’re already asleep in his arms but he takes the time to stroke your hair and kiss up and down your temples. god, he loves getting this time with you to himself - even if you’re asleep.
with you pressed against him and your heartbeat thrumming, the world is still and rick realizes something - he’s never letting you go.
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stillmonsterz · 10 months ago
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all i gotta do
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for this anon!
pairing: jake x reader
genre: fluff (?), humor (???), smut
summary: it's your first day at work and you're nervous. however, your trainer is going to show you why you were nervous for the wrong reasons. one week with jake sim will either make you quit the job or never leave.
contains: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, swearing, incest mention, PTSD mention, i try to be "funny" and make "jokes"
word count: 4.4k (unproofread)
---
DAY ONE
You stepped inside of your new workplace apprehensively; you hadn’t felt so nervous since your first day of university. Wiping your palms on your pants, you made eye contact with the receptionist and smiled wanly. 
“Hello,” you said, resting your fingertips on the counter. “I’m the new hire. I was wondering where I could find…Jake Sim? He’s supposed to be my…” The term that had been used in the introductory email the company had sent to you eluded you.
“Your buddy,” the receptionist said flatly. “Your Park Corp buddy.”
“Yes. That.”
“Jake Sim is on the fifth floor. I take it you’ll be working in data analysis as well?”
You nodded. “Yes, exactly.”
The receptionist smiled at you, but it belied a certain cold humor. “Good luck.”
“Yeah, you too.” As you walked away, you realized your blunder and squeezed your eyes shut. 
The fifth floor of the office building had all of the markings of a corporation attempting to reel in more younger workers. There was a vending machine as soon as you walked in, the cubicles were arranged as part of an open concept floor plan, and the walls were plastered with positive, empty aphorisms. You scanned the area, wondering which of the people hunched over their computers was Jake.
Footsteps echoed behind you, and when you turned around you saw a slight, enthusiastic-looking young man with a shock of shaggy brown hair approaching you. In his hands he held two coffee cups. 
“Hey, newbie,” he said with some affection. “Got you a coffee.”
You took the cup, surprised by his vivacity. “Thank you…”
“Jake,” he finished, holding his hand out. “Jake Sim.”
You shook his hand as firmly as you could and introduced yourself.
“I know,” he said cheerfully. “Don’t worry, I like to do a little stalking before we meet a new hire. Although…” his face grew serious. “You really shouldn’t post such…provocative pictures on your Insta. Someone could get ideas.”
Your face blanched and your fingers gripped the coffee cup. “What?”
Jake’s face broke out into a smile. “Just fuckin’ with you. Sorry, I like to razz all the new hires. Makes me feel big.”
His grin was so wide, you felt compelled to smile too. He nudged you and jerked his thumb in the direction of the cubicles. “Let me show you around, PCB.”
You blinked, then it dawned on you. “Park Corp buddy…?”
“So observant,” Jake said, amused. “Come on.”
You followed him around as he explained where everything was: the copy room, the coffee machine, the water dispenser, the popcorn machine, your cubicle (situated in the middle of the room, to your chagrin), his cubicle (tucked neatly in the corner).
Then he taught you how to use the software. Thanks to your university courses, it wasn’t difficult to learn. Jake’s playful personality also gave way to a maturity that you hadn’t expected. He carefully walked you through the program step by step.
“I’ll leave you these tasks to work on,” he said, pulling up a document he had pre-made. “If you get stuck, just come get me, okay? I’m right in the corner.”
You thanked him for his assistance and started working on the tasks he had given you. It wasn’t challenging, so much as it was tedious. Still, you persevered. 
At least, until you heard him approach you again.
“Hey,” Jake said, sitting beside you. His eyes darted around the room. “You were supposed to come get me.”
“You told me to do that if I needed you,” you replied, somewhat confused.
“Yeah,” Jake said slowly, “in case you feel the overwhelming urge to make Jakey’s day and let him help you with something so he can avoid doing his boring ass work. You don’t even understand the basics of being a PCB, do you?”
“You’re using me,” you said, waving an accusatory finger at him. 
“Can you blame me?” he retorted. “Sometimes I can…I can feel my soul leaking from my pores.”
You giggled, and he squinted at you in mock annoyance. “There’s no way you’re laughing at me,” he said, trying to fight a smile. “I’m dying, turning into a corpse, and you’re laughing.”
You shrugged. “At least you’ll die at the prime of your life.”
Jake’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Oh, you think I’m in my prime, huh?”
“That’s not what I me-,”
“You’re hitting on me,” Jake said, leaning in. He blinked at you like a puppy. 
You leaned away, your cheeks feeling warm. “I’m not.”
“I wouldn’t mind if you were,” he said softly.
You were about to say something else, something intelligent and witty, but one of your new coworkers approached the two of you. 
“Couldn’t wait a day before sexually harassing the newbie, could you?” He was tall, pale, and had a shit-eating grin that could rival Jake’s. Unlike Jake, who was dressed in a blue button-down and slacks, this person wore a suit with a silky black tie.
Jake leaned away from you, balking at the accusation. “I am not sexually harassing her,” Jake said, clutching his heart. “I wasn’t even normal harassing her.”
“He wasn’t,” you chimed in. 
“Don’t cover up for this louse,” Sunghoon said, shaking his head at Jake. “Look at you, corrupting one of our brightest already with your salacious comments. Weren’t you supposed to be writing up a report on the-,”
“You hear this jerkoff?” Jake said, interrupting. “He puts on a little suit and starts using words like ‘louse’ and ‘salacious’, like we’re not in data analysis.”
“I am a data architect,” Sunghoon said, playfully slamming his hand on your desk. “And I will be treated like one, damn it.”
“Quit it,” Jake said, putting his arms around you and hugging you close to him. “You’re scaring my PCB.” 
“Your PCB is going to get PTSD if you keep touching her,” Sunghoon replied drolly, crossing his arms.
Jake grinned. “My PCB is going to get PTSD if I do PDA with her?” 
Sunghoon said, “Good one,” and they laughed and high-fived. You stared at them incredulously, noting that Jake’s arm was still wrapped around your shoulder. 
“Sorry,” you said slowly, “but I’d like to do my work…”
Jake withdrew his arm and tsked under his breath, standing up. “Great going, Sunghoon,” he hissed. “Now she hates you.”
“She hates you, idiot,” Sunghoon retorted as they walked away.
You slumped down in your chair, already feeling exhausted. You worked straight through your lunch break, and as you commuted home you wondered how the rest of your training week would go.
DAY TWO 
The next day, you felt a little more equipped to navigate your new job. In your purse, you brought some items with which to decorate your desk.
You came into work early, noting that very few people show up at this time. Perfect. With careful precision, you arranged your new trinkets on your desk; a magnetic calendar for your cubicle wall, a little plush doll, a notebook, a nice mousepad, and a little jar of chocolates. 
As you’re turning your computer on, you heard three male voices approaching your desk. Two of which you recognize. 
“There she is,” you heard Jake say quietly, “isn’t she cute?”
You looked up and waved. There was Jake, wearing a button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Sunghoon, wearing another crisp suit. And a third person wearing an oversized collared shirt with dark blue jeans, looking you up and down. 
“You’re here early,” Jake said cheerfully. “Excited for work?”
“I just wanted to decorate my desk,” you explained, proudly displaying your newly decorated workplace.
The three men politely admired your table. Then Sunghoon nudged the third man in the ribs. He cleared his throat. 
“I’m Heeseung,” he said, awkwardly raising his hand. “Heeseung Lee.”
“Nice to meet you,” you replied, holding your hand out.
You shook hands with him, and Sunghoon snorted. “I didn’t get a handshake from you.”
“You also didn’t introduce yourself to me…”
Sunghoon looked away, the tips of his ears going red. “Right. I suppose that was my folly. Apologies.”
Jake leaned down and whispered, “Isn’t he such a pretentious dick?” in your ear. You suppressed another giggle as you stuck your hand out.
Sunghoon shook it firmly. “Park Sunghoon,” he said with a smile. “Data architect.”
“You told her that already,” Jake said. 
“And I told you to shut up several times, not that you ever listened,” Sunghoon retorted.
You glanced at Heeseung, and he just shrugged at you. “They can’t stop,” he said, glancing between the two of them. “It’s hard-coded into their DNA to be idiots in front of cute girls.”
Jake squinted at Heeseung. “Oh, you think she’s cute? Are you into her or something?”
Heeseung raised his hands in self-defense, backing up. “No, no, not at all.”
You sighed. “Could…could I go ahead and start my work?”
Jake shook his head and stalked away from your table. “She fucking hates you, you know that?” he said, lightly pushing Heeseung. 
Later that day, as you’re packing up to head home, you hear footsteps that were already becoming familiar.
“Hey,” Jake said quietly, “the guys and I were wondering if you wanted to eat with us at lunch tomorrow?”
You blinked up at him. “No kidding?”
“Yeah. We want you to feel welcome here,” he said, resting his hand on your shoulder. 
A smile spread across your face, and you nodded. “Sure. Sounds like it'll be a lot of fun.” Like seeing monkeys in the zoo.
Jake grinned, patting your shoulder. “Awesome! Awesome, awesome.” He paused then, placing his hand in his pocket. “One other thing,” he said slowly. 
“What’s that?” you tilted your head at him.
“Well, you know, you don’t have to dress so formally,” he said, gesturing at your outfit. “Unless you’re trying to be Sunghoon or something. You can dress business casual.”
You looked down at yourself; your outfit was pretty formal and rigid. “All right,” you said, “I’ll be nice and casual tomorrow.”
“Sounds great,” Jake said, biting his lip slightly. 
– 
DAY THREE
Work already felt much more comfortable. Besides the three coworkers you had already met, the rest of the employees ranged from amicable to ambivalent, so you never felt tense. Occasionally, Jake would come over to your desk and look at how you were coming along. Or, as you figured, he was just coming to ogle you. Not that you minded the extra attention. 
When you walked in this morning, dressed in your more casual outfit, his eyes had lingered on you for so long you thought it could be classed as a workplace violation.
“Very nice,” Jake had said approvingly. “Very…casual.”
“I try,” you had said drily, heading to your desk. 
“I’m serious,” he had said, walking with you. “You have, pardon me, a great figure.” 
“That’s not very PC,” Sunghoon had said as he passed by your desk. 
“So, what you’re saying,” Jake had started, and you were already rolling your eyes, “I’m not acting PC with my PCB?”
You had groaned. “Jake…”
“Great going, Sunghoon,” Jake had grumbled, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “You’re the worst, I swear…”
Now you were sitting with them in the break room, where they were locked in what you could only assume was a longstanding debate. 
“I’m saying that it wouldn’t be gay if it was on an island,” Jake protested, “so it wouldn’t even matter, Sunghoon.”
“Okay, but they’d eventually get rescued, so they’d have to live with that,” Sunghoon retorted, gesturing with his sandwich. 
“Yeah, but they don’t know that they’re getting rescued.”
You glanced at Heeseung, who was eating a microwavable meal. “What are they talking about?”
Heeseung leaned into you, whispering as so not to catch their attention. “It’s this stupid hypothetical they came up with,” Heeseung explained. “If there was an island, and a pair of adult siblings were on one end, and a pair of two straight men were on the other end, which pair would hook up first?”
You blinked. “Well, the siblings, right?”
A haunting silence overtook the break room. Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon all stared at you, and you got the impression that you had disrupted something sacred, something hallowed.
Sunghoon laughed and pointed at you. “See? See? Your little work wife doesn’t even agree with you. Those siblings would be smashing, right?”
“Well, I g-,”
“All over each other,” Sunghoon continued, making vulgar gestures with his hands. “It’d be like…five hours. Sweaty from the sun. They’d be rolling around, sand in their ass, it’d be carnal. Primal.”
Jake stared at you incredulously. “You really don’t think the straight guys would fuck?”
You shrugged helplessly. “Well, they’re straight, so I mean…”
Jake groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Okay. Look. If you were on an island with a sexy ass woman, and she had short nails and everything, and she was fully ready to finger your pussy, you wouldn’t let her smash? Because you were ‘straight’?”
“I mean…no.”
“Nah,” Jake said, waving a baby carrot in your face. “You’re either deluded or you aren’t thinking hard enough. You’d get desperate. You’d be munching so much carpet you’d look like…like…”
“Like a carpet factory,” Heeseung said sarcastically. 
“You’re so fucking unfunny,” Jake replied. “No, you’d look like…”
“Like she’s an interior designer?” Sunghoon offered. 
“Close enough,” Jake said, sighing. “Real dark day when Sunghoon is funnier than you. Do better, Heeseung.”
“Yeah, Heeseung,” you said, “do better.”
Heeseung scoffed. “I thought you were my friend.”
You shrugged. “I wanted to join in.”
Jake clapped you on your back and laughed. “Look at you. Blending in already!”
– 
After lunch you excused yourself and went to the bathroom. When you emerged, Jake was leaning against the wall, playing with his fingers. 
“Hey,” he said, straightening up. “Had a random hypothetical for you.”
“Sure,” you said, crossing your arms. 
“So,” Jake began, his eyes darting around your face, “if you were stuck on a deserted island…”
You groaned. 
“Wait! Wait, wait, wait.” Jake put one hand on your shoulder. “If you were stuck on a deserted island, which of us would you want with you? Me, Sunghoon, or Heeseung?”
You frowned. “Well, you, obviously.”
Jake smiled at you widely, running his fingers through his hair. “Ha, for real?”
“Well, yeah. I know you the best.”
His smile faltered. “Is that really the only reason?”
You frowned, unsure of what to say. “I me-,”
Jake clapped you on the back and snorted. “I was just messing with you,” he said before striding back to his corner cubicle.
DAY FOUR 
You consulted your list of tasks. Your last, and most important task, was to type up a data analysis report based off of the information you had been gathering for the past week. Jake said that he would look over it for you later.
After spending the better part of your morning working on the report, you leaned back and stretched. Your eyes were starting to hurt from staring at a screen for so long, and you rubbed them.
Jake was next to you before you could react. “Hey,” he said, “how’s the report going?”
“It’s going,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“Let me see,” Jake said, leaning over you and scrolling through your document. Your breath hitched; he was so close, you could smell his cologne. If you glanced to your right, you would be able to see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. 
Jake silently pored over the document, his chest pressed against your back. His hand rested on your shoulder, and you couldn’t tell if he was rubbing it as a subconscious habit or not.
“Looking good so far,” he whispered, and when his hand slid down your arm, you knew it was intentional.
“Anything I need to fix?” you asked, attempting to maintain a semblance of professionalism.
“Hm…” Jake leaned in to you evermore, until he was flush against you. “Nothing I can see. You’re a good worker, aren’t you?”
“I try,” you said quietly. 
“A good little worker bee,” Jake said softly, his lips almost brushing your ear. “Just what I like.”
You dared to turn your head slightly to catch Jake’s gaze, and he smiled at you, that easy-going, smile that hid a wealth of sobriety and determination. He patted your shoulder again and leaned upwards. The loss of his scent and touch bothered you, but you didn’t say a word. 
“I’ll leave you to it now,” Jake said, stretching his wrists out. “Come early tomorrow, okay?”
“Huh? Why?” 
“So I can look over your report one last time before you submit it,” Jake said plainly. “What were you thinking, you naughty little bee?”
“I wasn’t thinking of anything like th-,”
Jake laughed. “I was kidding. You’re so cute when you’re all flustered, though.”
When Jake left, you realized that you had been squeezing your plush doll. You released it and sighed. Then, you continued working on the report. 
DAY FIVE 
You strode into the office early. Jake had emailed you through the company’s email, requesting that you arrive on the fifth floor at 7:30 am. Work started at 9:00, so he would have ample time to go over the report with you.
When you entered the floor, you first noted that there were a few workers already there, hunched over their desks. Just a few overachievers…or underachievers, you guessed. 
Jake was waving you over to his cubicle, his hair flopping in his face as he enthusiastically beckoned you. You walked towards him. 
“Come on,” he said, smiling at you playfully despite the early time. “Come sit.”
You went to pull over another chair, but Jake grabbed your wrist. “No, no,” he said with a shake of his hair. “Just sit next to me.” He scooted over in his chair, leaving you with a sliver of space. 
You were already growing accustomed to Jake’s “jokes”, so you sat next to him. Your left leg hung over the side of the chair, the other smushed against Jake’s. 
He smiled at you, then opened your report on his computer. You had sent it to him that night, your heart fluttering even though it was just an email. Just five days at this office was making you as pathetic as Jake and his friends. 
As he scrolled through the document, he kept glancing at you. Eventually, Jake said, “You can’t be comfortable sitting on the chair like that.”
“You’re right,” you said with a sigh. “I’m not.”
“Why not just…sit on my lap?” Jake asked nonchalantly, his lower lip jutting out in a slight pout.
You sighed. “I see the game you’re playing here, Sim.”
“Will you play, my little worker bee?”
A shift of your ass from the small slice of chair to Jake’s lap was your answer to him, and when you leaned against him he smiled. Jake’s hands reached down to encircle your hips. 
“You really are such a good bee,” he said, massaging your hips. 
“I can be even better if you let me,” you replied, your gaze flickering to his plush lips. 
Jake leaned his head against the mesh backing of his swivel chair. Your back was pressed against his chest, and your hands reached behind you to stroke his face. “I’d like to test that theory,” Jake said softly.
You leaned in and kissed him, reveling in the taste of his lips. He followed suit, kissing you enthusiastically. Jake’s hands remained on our hips, but they soon slid to your thighs, squeezing and groping at the soft flesh. Jake swiped his tongue along your bottom lip a few times, and you widened your mouth. His tongue probed past your lips, licking your own tongue.
“So good,” he whispered, briefly breaking the kiss. “You’d never let fuckass Sunghoon do this, right?”
“Jake…”
“Sorry, baby,” Jake said apologetically. “I get territorial. I’m like a wolf.”
“Jake, come on.”
“Awoo,” he said playfully before kissing you again. Your tongues pressed together, swirling around each other. As the kiss deepened, you bit his lower lip before licking the mark. Jake groaned into your mouth.
“Little bee,” he said, pulling away once again. He rested his forehead against yours. “If you’re going to do stuff like that, you’re gonna have to commit to it.”
“I want to commit to it,” you said, leaving wet kisses along his neck. 
Jake groaned and grabbed one of your legs. He brought it over his lap and dragged your hips closer to his crotch. “Now, you’re going to have to be quiet. Can you do that for me?”
“I can be quiet,” you said, resting your hands on his shoulders. 
“Promise? This isn’t a big office,” he said, his voice low and hoarse. “It’d be a shame if someone heard us and you got in trouble. You wouldn’t want that, right?”
“No,” you whispered. As you stared at him, Jake started to unbuckle his belt. When he noticed your gaze, he frowned. 
“Come on, bee,” he said, gesturing at your skirt. “Can’t do everything for you, can I?”
You zipped your skirt down in the back and shifted so you could wriggle yourself out of it. Jake gave you an exasperated glance, so you shimmied your panties down to your thighs.
“And?” he asked impatiently.
“And…what?”
Jake sighed. “Take your tits out, come on.”
The phrase was so vulgar it shocked you, but somehow it was sexy when uttered from Jake’s mouth. The contrast between his disgusting mind and his boyish good looks thrilled you, so you did as he asked. You un-buttoned your shirt down and tugged your bra straps down, revealing your chest. 
Immediately, Jake groped your tits, sighing in pleasure. “Feeling up a pretty girl’s tits early in the morning,” he said, almost reverently. “This is amazing.”
The sensation cause you to moan, and Jake immediately sent you a harsh look. He squeezed one of your breasts, and you suppressed a gasp. “I told you to be quiet, little bee,” he whispered. “You said you could do it.”
“I can,” you murmured. 
“Then show me you can,” Jake replied, still fondling your breasts. He pinched your nipples, squeezed your tits, pushed them together then apart. After a while, he took one of your hands and placed it on his crotch. 
First, you rubbed his hard-on through his slacks, and he bit his lip to avoid moaning. Then you unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. You were surprised by its girth, as well as the fact that he was already leaking precum. Spitting into your hand, you gathered up some of that precum and used it to stroke his shaft. Jake shuddered and gritted his teeth together. 
“Nice and slow,” he said, his breathing already labored. “Slowly, baby.”
You heeded his order and stroked his cock while he played with your breasts. He hadn’t tired of them; on the contrary, he was transfixed by them. Jake leaned forward and bit one of your breasts hard, sucking at the spot immediately after. “Look at this and think of me,” he whispered before leaving another hickey on your other breast. 
Jake suddenly seemed to remember that he didn’t have much time with you. He took his mouth off of your breast and swatted your hands from his cock. Then he covered your lips with his hand and slowly, painstakingly, guided his cockhead into your dripping, wet pussy. 
You were glad you were being muffled by his hand, because you would not have been able to contain your shivering moans. He shallowly fucked into you, allowing you to get used to his length. When he felt that you were ready, he lifted his hips upwards and slid inside of you completely, letting out a heavy breath.
“Now bounce on it,” Jake whispered into your ear. One hand freely groped your breast, the other was clamped onto your hip. You guessed that he trusted you not to moan now. 
You had never ridden dick before, but you had a general idea of how to do it. You lifted yourself up and down, your pussy enveloping his shaft. The feeling was incredible, and you bit his hand as you worked yourself on his cock. As you did, the swivel chair squeaked due to the movement.
Jake shunted his hips upwards, matching your movements. His hand moved down to your waist, gripping it tightly. “Faster,” he hissed. “Faster, baby.”
Now that you had gotten used to him, you bounced on him faster. Your ass slapped against his strong, muscular thighs, and you knew that there was no way you were being conspicuous. Your pussy made smacking noises as you rode him, and the swivel chair squeaked like it was going to break.
Still, Jake urged you on. “Come on, come on, fucking put that slutty pussy to work,” he said, taking your tits into his mouth. Both of his hands were gripping your hips, pushing him onto his length. “Keep going. Don’t you dare…stop.”
You were reaching your limit, exhaustion seeping into your limbs. Jake lightly pinched your side, and you gasped. “I told you to keep going, baby.”
So you kept going. You swore you could feel him in your womb, that was how far he was pushing you. “Pussy’s gonna be shaped like this dick,” Jake hissed, leaving sloppy kisses all over your chest. “My masterpiece.”
Warmth filled you, all the way to your core, and you knew you were about to burst. “Cover my mouth,” you whispered and Jake immediately placed his hand over your mouth, rutting into you even faster.
“Gonna cum,” Jake grunted, his thrusts growing slower and sloppier. “Gonna fill this sweet pussy up.” With a growl that didn’t dare leave his throat, he fucked his cum into you, his hand still gripping your hip. Slowly, painstakingly, he pulled out of you, and you could see his cum dripping out of you.
He kissed your forehead and uncovered your mouth. “That was so good,” you whispered.
“It’ll be better next time,” Jake said slyly. 
“Oh, yeah?” You started to put your clothes back on, tugging your bra down and buttoning your shirt again. “What makes you so sure?”
Jake leaned into your ear again. “Next time, I’ll get to hear you scream my name.”
You pulled away from him, your eyes widening. 
Jake smiled at you. “Just kidding.”
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predestinatos · 1 year ago
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cinnamon taste ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙ — CL16
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pairing: charles leclerc x female!reader
summary: your best friend showing up at your apartment isn't the only surprise you had that day
tags: best friends to lovers, giddy and shy charles, sooo much fluff, christmas vibes, improvised and creative mistletoe confession
words: 2.6k
note: someone requested something along these lines and i had sooo much fun writing it!! my heart is full and warm... rlly hope u guys like it too and happy holidays for those who celebrate
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The scent of cinnamon and apple filled your lungs as you entered your apartment door. You congratulated yourself on the good choice of incense, apparently, but also punished yourself for seemingly leaving the music on while you were out. Jazz-y Christmas songs were playing softly, your living room feeling like a daydream of warmth and coziness.
But that dream was soon shattered upon the realization that you had brought your phone with you – there was no way it was still connected to Bluetooth. Someone was in your house.
Before you had time to panic as you removed your gloves and jacket, a figure appears before you and spins you in the air, embracing you tightly. At first, you screamed, terrified. But then the figure placed you on the floor, continuously repeating “it’s me it’s me I’m sorry” while giggling.
You immediately recognized the voice – your best friend was wrapped in an apron, glasses on and remnants of flour on his messy brown locks. Immediately, your heart went from racing to galloping, fear replaced by happiness. However, before you could show the good part, you punched him slightly in the chest, the hit clearly not producing any sort of damage. “You are such an idiot, Charles! You almost killed me” you said, although a smile was creeping in your lips and eyes as he pulled you for a hug.
Despite how long you’ve known each other, the hugs always felt the same: earnest, meaningful, his heart beating next to your ear, hands wrapped around you like a warm caress. It felt like this when you were 10 and played together, when you were 15 and snuck out together, and now this. You weren’t expecting to see him, especially not this close to Christmas day.
“I thought I’d do something with the spare key you gave me when I crashed here for a few weeks,” he said, as if reading your thoughts, already jumping between wondering how he got in and when he did it. His eyes, filled with affection, seemed simultaneously nervous, registering your face as if in analyzing it carefully.
Before you had time to ask, he pulled your arm and guided you to the kitchen – your own kitchen – warmly telling you “I have a surprise.” You followed him and as you entered the small marble kitchen, the scent hit you even harder. It smelt of comfort, of a cozy campfire feeling, of sweet bakeries opened and filled with decorations, all inside your house. The kitchen itself was slightly messy, hinting at its use, and Charles stood in it proudly, grabbing some mittens to remove the delicious smelling content from the oven.
They were cookies, made in all possible shapes and sizes – some unidentifiable, as he clearly did them by hand. The image of them filled your heart, your best friend placing them on the counter as he checked if they were ready to be eaten, almost like a postcard waiting to be stilled in time. “For how long are you staying?” you asked, afraid of the answer.
That fear proved itself right as you saw his expression change suddenly, the smile leaving his eyes and remaining only on his lips, an attempt at feigning comfort where there could possibly be none. “The day after tomorrow” he said, after a small cough, acting as if it was nothing, trying to lessen the pain of not knowing when you’d see him again.
Just for that moment, you decided to shrug it off as well, to ignore the elephant in the room that were the less than 48 hours you had to enjoy each other’s company, the knowledge that the old times of friendship won’t come back. “Better eat all of those until then!” you said, in your best effort to showcase as little sadness as possible.
You opened one of your cabinets and removed two mugs from it, one of them farther away than expected. On your tiptoes, you reached for the red mug with a big C on it, with “clumsy” written underneath in small letters. It was reserved especially for Charles, a small part of him that remained untouched from the moment he left and would only be touched again when he came back – which wasn’t often. Upon seeing it, his smile lit up once again, dimples showing on his slightly flushed cheeks, his upper arm reaching to fix the glasses he was wearing as his hands were busy sprinkling cinnamon all over the biscuits.
Placing the just made hot chocolate on the small glass coffee table in your living room, you waited for Charles, who showed up holding a plate decorated with all of his creations, which he placed next to your mugs.
You wrapped around blankets as you sat on the floor, mimicking simpler times, nostalgia running through your veins as the liquid you drank ran through your throats. Charles’ eyes scanned your living room again, “did you decorate this all by yourself?” he asked, as he analyzed the matching patterns in your white Christmas tree and how well they fit with the honey tones of the decorations scattered carefully around the room.
“Depends,” you replied, smiling, “Do you like it?” He looked at you then, the same nervousness returning to his cheeks, red from something that couldn’t be the cold, given the warmth inside your apartment. For the first time since you knew him, his eyes studied your face in a way that made you look away timidly. “Yes it’s amazing” he replied, answering the question as a way to break the sudden tension, but creating an opposite effect.
“A friend helped me” you confessed to him, shrugging. “I don’t think you know him, he-” you were about to begin, but Charles’ eyes shot to you and then quickly to the content inside his mug, fidgeting as he did so. “He and his girlfriend, love decorations and had some extra stuff from their last year so they added a lot to this” you explained, emphasizing the word ‘girlfriend’ as if it needed to be, as if you owed your best friend an explanation or seal of approval that you weren’t aware of until now. You knew it was necessary, however, when you saw his shoulders relax at your words, chest rising and falling softly underneath his sweater.
You rested your head against his shoulders reassuringly, letting him know that he wouldn’t miss any detail of your life, that you’d always make sure to update him on everything. You weren’t sure that’s what he wanted but you hoped he would understand the sentiment behind it, and you were sure he did when he laid a soft kiss on the top of your head.
His body smelled of cinnamon itself, sweet and lovely, and you couldn’t help but pull him closer by the arm, feeling his warmth which you hadn’t for so long. “I missed you, Charlie” you said, smiling to yourself. “Me too, silly” he replied whilst slowly pushing you away and getting up. “Which reminds me, I have something for you.”
You looked up at your best friend, feeling the cold spot from where he previously was, as he ran hurriedly to one of your spare rooms – which could be called his room since that was all the use it had. “Why don’t you just give it to me and I’ll open on Christmas? I don’t want to jinx it!” you yelled from your sitting place, biting one of the tree-shaped biscuits he had prepared, amazed at its taste and softness.
he came back holding a small box in his hands, carefully wrapped and decorated with a red ribbon at the top. Pride was written all over his smile and gaze as he sat down in front of you, handing you the present as he grabbed one of his own biscuits. “Because,” he said, in between bites “this is very important and urgent” he continued, giggling excitedly. You could tell from his tone that his voice was overly excited, almost acting, but you didn’t want to push him, not when he stared at you anxiously, eyes big and expectant like a puppy. His giggles were quickly replaced by sudden seriousness as soon as your hands started unwrapping the present carefully, not even wanting to ruin the package.
You were faced with a box, beautiful and cushioned, its surface gorgeously reminding you of wine nights with the company of the man who seemed not to be able to sit still in front of you. “Open it” he said, swallowing hard and nervously, leaning closer and closer with your every movement. You complied, your own curiosity threatening to jump out of your mouth, hands shaking as Charles’ own breath seemed almost irregular.
Inside it, you saw a delicate crystal, green, red and clear, in the shape of a plant. Not a plant – mistletoe. It glistened beautifully and its fragility fascinated you. It was beautiful, and you remained speechless as you examined it. “Charlie it’s-” you started, though you had no words to describe what you were feeling. Of course, the gift was absolutely mesmerizing, a small token that was impossible to not notice. Yet, you didn’t exactly know what it meant.
Charles gave you no time to think about it before he moved awkwardly, getting closer to you, closer than usual even for you two. “Listen, I… Do you want to hang it somewhere?” he said, the question so sudden, like a window that opened quickly and let all the cold wind inside the room. You looked into his eyes and found yourself still unable to speak, resorting to a simple nod as you got up, the box still resting in your hands, and he followed your movements.
You decided to hang it carefully in one of the tallest branches of your Christmas tree, where the lights hit beautifully and made it the centerpiece, stealing all the attention from the star at the top. “It’s beautiful” you finally managed to say, along with an earnest thank you, and you were about to turn back to the warm blanket when his fingertips stopped you by softly resting on your wrist.
“Wait,” he started, barely moving. All movement you could witness came from his nostrils as he exhaled deeply, his gaze completely focused on you. “I need to tell you something” he continued, looking up at the gift he had just given you. Following his gaze, you realized what he meant. “Oh. Oh this was for someone else- it’s fine Charlie mistakes happen-” you began, rising to your tiptoes in order to remove the ornament, almost laughing at your own silliness.
Once again that night, Charles stopped you, laughing warmly. “God, you’re so silly sometimes,” he told you, and despite the cold toned color of his eyes, they expressed such warmth it took your breath away. “No, this gift is for you. That’s what I mean,” he said, stumbling across his every word, “I gave you this because you’re the one I want to experience this with. The whole mistletoe kissing thing. Maybe this is silly…” his hand flew to his neck awkwardly, reminding you of when he was younger and in high school, trying to impress some girl he had a crush on.
You weren’t exactly sure what he meant, nor what it could mean for your friendship in general. But you were sure you wanted to experience that moment with him as well, feel him closer to you than you ever did, your every muscle begging you to act. “Do it then” you dared him, your own nervousness coming out. You thought about how silly it was, your nervousness, given how old you two were, how much you had witnessed together, the moment so out of the ordinary yet seemingly so predictable, as if it was destined to happen.
At that, Charles’ eyes widened, but his whole body went into action. His hand went to your cheek as the other pulled you by your waist, eyes falling on your lips as if everything moved in slow motion. You placed your own hands on his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat as his lips fell on yours, so soft and familiar despite how unknown it all was. The sudden smell of chestnuts and ginger intensified as the room seemed to transform, how despite the warmth you almost felt snow falling on both of your bodies. Charles couldn’t get enough of you, his hand going from your cheek to the back of your neck, begging you for more, for the moment to last for as long as possible.
Like a magnet, your own hands caressed and pulled his hair incessantly, reassuring him that you weren’t going anywhere, as his heartbeat stabilized in calmness and comfort in how well your lips fit on his. His closeness was intoxicating, and you felt dizzy from how good you were feeling with his sheer presence, how right everything seemed to feel, how effortlessly he got you in your best mood.
Pulling away, you saw a smile which you had rarely seen in Charles’ face. It happened at his most happiest moments – when he won races, when he beat you at rock paper scissors when you were kids, when he got the best scores in spelling bees – it reached every muscle in his body and yours, so contagious was his cheerfulness.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he said, giddy and red from shyness, looking so innocent all of a sudden, despite his grip still on your waist. “I’ve been so confused, especially since the last time I stayed over. No one can make me feel like you do, and this is so hard to explain, and I don’t know how it got to this point but I have been thinking about it every day, about how good I feel when I am with you, how I just get so incredibly happy and-” you quieted his rambling by giving him a shy peck on his lips, giggling at how he stood motionless after it, eyes widened and eyebrows raised.
“I love you too” you told him, meaning every word, anxiously looking forward for the rest of your life.
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wolfpants · 6 months ago
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come in, the water's lovely | a drarry fic
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Happy (early) birthday, dearest @getawayfox! I wrote this little fic for you, knowing how much you love established relationship smut. Thank you so much for being a most wonderful friend, for all our laughs over DMs and our adventures past and in the future!
Come In, the Water's Lovely | 3.5k
Tags: EWE, post-Hogwarts, POV Harry, established relationship, married couple, researcher!Draco, potioneer!Draco, field trip, Madeira, forests, rain, swimming, skinny dipping, waterfalls, bathing/washing, shower sex, hiking, tent sex, fluff and smut, flashes of a domestic life, hand jobs, anal fingering, blow jobs, brief mention of rimming, anal sex, flip fuck, switching, hung!Harry
In the lush wilderness of Madeira, Harry and Draco reunite.
“I’ve missed you,” he says again, kissing Draco’s ear, wrapping his arms around him in a fierce hug. “Like you wouldn’t even believe.” “I believe it,” Draco says. “I’ve had far too many lonely, clinical wanks in this shower.” Harry laughs against Draco’s wet, soap-sweet skin and lets his hands fall to his waist. He steals another soft kiss. “Want me to help with that? Reviews say I’m not very clinical at all. I’m positively… extravagant.” Draco bends his head forward again and nips Harry’s lip, then soothes it with a slow swipe of his tongue. “A giver of deluxe wanks.”
read on ao3
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serqphites · 6 months ago
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Thinking of g!p lee harker with a mommy kink….
oh my fucking god you might be onto something…
i’d also like to make it known that i have never written for men/dicks(?) before because i’m a big old lesbian so im sorry if it’s not accurate!
warnings! g!p, not pulling out, breeding? mommy issues, crying during sex
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—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—
heavy thoughts of lee waking up with morning wood…
the two of you spooning, her dick poking into your back as she squirms uncontrollably, desperate to not wake you.
well jokes on her because you were already awake!
deciding to mess with her, you back your ass up against her growing bulge. god the noises she makes.
“really lee? this early?” your tone is mocking as you chuckle at her, feeling your girlfriend jump slightly upon unexpectedly hearing your voice.
less than a minute later you’re grinding your ass against her hard cock through her boxers, precum seeping through and leaking onto your pj bottoms.
lee is embarrassed to tell you she has a mommy kink (i mean girly we know what ur moms like it’s kinda obvious)
“do you think we could try something tonight?” someone tell me why is bro looking at you like a stray kitten begging for food??
“of course baby, what’d you have in mind?” needless to say you aren’t shocked when she reveals she’d like to try out calling you mommy. you’d definitely noticed before that she seemed to enjoy being taken care of. like yeah sure who wouldn’t? but with lee you could just feel how different it was. it felt more like something she craved rather than something she simply enjoyed.
some examples include; why did she blush so fiercely when you brushed her hair? why did she get so shy if you showed you were proud of her? why did she always get a hard on if you cared a little too deeply for her…? (not that that’s physically possible bc hello?? save me awkward lesbian)
cut to that same night, lees hands gripping the backs of your thighs as you straddle her lap. you could feel her growing beneath you, your hips naturally beginning to roll against it, her bulge hitting your clit almost perfectly.
you now find yourself sat on lees hard cock, her girth filling you in a way only she could. you wanted her so bad, needed her so bad. yet you didn’t move.
“baby… please?” she sounds so fucking pathetic underneath you, her hips bucking as she grows needier and needier for your pleasure.
“baby? i thought you wanted to call me something else tonight” lee whimpers at your voice alone.
“please… mommy please- need you s’bad” yeah you’re bouncing on it.
she’s a fucking mess, her eyes sealed shut as she assists your bounces down onto her throbbing dick.
“you’re doing so good lee, so good for mommy” despite your head being rolled back with your own eyes also squeezed shut, you still don’t miss the way your girlfriends thrusts speed up and the whimpers slowly turn into quiet cries.
you panic momentarily, stopping and moving to face her once more. before you even get a chance to ask if she was okay lee has started bouncing you in and out of herself once more, her nails digging into your hips as she more than just guides your bounces this time.
“good tears… please don’t stop… fuck- fuck mommy please don’t stop… m’so close” all you needed to hear was good tears before you continued your previous movements, this time rolling your hips on every bounce to help push lee over the edge.
her cries turn into pants, her pants eventually coming to a halt before a long exaggerated moan escapes from her lips, her warm seed filling up your cunt just perfectly. that ends up doing it for you also, lee biting her lip so hard she draws blood as she jolts underneath you, only enduring the overstimulating sensations to allow you to ride out your high.
once you’re both settled into bed and ready for sleep, you turn to face your extremely smiley girlfriend.
“take it you enjoyed it?”
“not at all” with a sarcastic roll of her eyes, she leans over to press one last kiss to your soft lips before you two say your goodnights, both falling asleep fantasising about your earlier activities.
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plutoenjoyer · 3 months ago
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Hii, how do you think the members would react when they realize that a friend of their crush also has a crush on her? I hope you understood me 😣
hi anon!!! thank you so much for being my first request<3 so sorry this took so long 😭 i hope you still enjoy though its so so late !!!
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
xdh — finding out about a friend's crush on you (+ confessing)
genre: fluff as always, light angst (i love to see a man in emotional turmoil)
tags: drabble, ot6, female reader, jealousy/light possessiveness?, pining, starting as friends, friends to lovers, reader is shorter than them, confessions
warnings: none
note: reader is some sort of employee or person that works in their building or around the area for added context ... they see you often even if not directly working with them basically (vaguely gestures). and the friend is kiiiind of rude anyway so he doesnt deserve your time in the first place
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
gunil — tries to be respectful, succeeds. (and then fails)
perhaps he's very comfortable in his role as "the responsible one" as the eldest of the group. he tries to embody a role-model for his bandmates when he can, there's a very caring and deeply responsible part of him that naturally comes out. he is not known for being selfish. that being said, when he finds out one of your friends has a crush on you there is a deep urge in him to find you immediately and just confess all the feelings he's kept buried in him for months. it bothers him like mad, because he knows that he shouldn't get in the way of anything or anyone you might be vying for. what if you felt the same way about that friend? what if he made it difficult for you to choose him after confessing? what if he ruined his friendship with you when you didn't feel the same way? there were just so many uncertainties and not enough safety for his comfort, so he chose to suffer in silence, as he was used to doing.
there was a familiarity in being alone with his thoughts that he wasn't sure if he could find the courage to leave behind just yet.
he sits with this feeling for days. he tries to convince himself that he's simply content to see you at all, and wants to be happy for your happiness, though it is so clear to his bandmates that he's not his usual self lately.
it's not until he sees you with said friend that he can't help himself anymore. he hated that you were laughing with him, but he hated his lack of conviction more. he makes up his mind to tell you as soon as he gets the chance because the fear of rejection meant so much less to him than watching you get taken from him right before his eyes without doing anything about it.
and you—you're none the wiser about it all until gunil confronts you that night as you're heading home. the intense look on his face is something you've never seen before, passionate and desperate underneath the warm ambient light of the dimly lit room. it illuminates his face in a way that strikes through your heart. you always found him to be attractive, but tried not to let your feelings unfurl further since you knew that there was not a chance he'd feel the same way, not with all the projects and people he manages on a day to day basis. he was just too busy for romance. but right now in this moment, the way that his eyes are narrowed with a seriousness that you haven't seen from him before sends a shiver up your spine. and not just towards anyone, towards you.
he steps closer to you. you're basically backed up against the wall, your heart beating out of your chest. he's so close you finally get a good look at how his dark eyes are trying to find something in yours—answers. you can't help yourself from putting your hands on his chest and bicep to steady yourself.
"i... i have something to tell you." he speaks so lowly and so desperately it mixes in with the sound of his sharp breaths.
you can barely hear him because all you can focus on is the gentle curvature of his beautiful lips. he notices this, because with his hand he pulls your chin up in order to angle your face to meet his eyes, forcing you to see what sort of distress you've put him through.
for the first time in a long time he's wanted something, no, someone for himself, and you're about to find out what.
jungsu — tries to be respectful, fails immediately
jungsu is the sweetest guy ever. he's always looking out for others and wants the best for him. after finding out about your friend's crush on you, though, something takes over him. you wonder why he's suddenly being so much more attentive and sweet, way more than normal. comedically and somewhat pathetically (in a sopping wet dog with glassy eyes kinda way) offering to carry your things, buying you sweets, praising you—it was even a little much at times. you were starting to get a little annoyed, not because you didn't like it but because you were wondering why the hell he started acting like this out of nowhere.
it's not until you're out shopping with him that you start to connect the dots. you run into the friend-in-question and he sparks up a conversation with you, both of you completely unaware of the growing panic and jealousy growing in jungsu's mind.
to your surprise, the usually soft-spoken and patient guy interjects whatever you two were talking about and grabs your hand, hastily pulling you away into some other random store. at first you're worried that you did something to offend him, but then you notice the embarrassed pout on his face as you two slow down near some unassuming accessory store. he's chewing the inside of his cheek, wondering what possessed him to be so rude (he knows exactly why, he just couldn't stand watching you two get along and got swept up in his emotions). the people already in the store make some shifty glances at you two, some of the aunties even shaking their heads, going 'gosh, another lovers quarrel', but it doesn't reach your ears by how hard you're trying to figure him out right now. he has no explanation for himself, simply looking aimlessly at the assortment of necklaces on the racks and refusing to meet your eye. he doesn't let go of your hand.
"i-i'm sorry, i just ..." he's struggling so hard to find the words. he really should just come out and say it but that would mean confirming his feelings for you right here and now, and there was no way you'd accept considering what reckless thing he did just now. "you ... i just didn't want ..."
a beat of silence, and then a resounding 'oh' pops into your head as you finally realize that it was actually your friend that was the problem for him. you smile at his shaking visage. how cute.
what happens next is in your hands, the same ones that are fit so perfectly in his warm, nervous palms. you're glad the group of aunties left before you could do this.
the air feels electrifying. you pull him closer and stand on your tippy toes and he's watching you do this so adorably but it doesn't compute in his head until he finally feels the plush feeling of your lips against his, and suddenly he feels right again. this is what he's been waiting for this whole time.
gaon — gets clingy
jiseok has always been physically clingy. he shows his love and affection by quite literally hanging onto you, through hugs or wrapping his arm around yours. it is very casual and very natural for him to do that with people he loves. emotionally, however, he's a bit more withdrawn than expected. he likes his alone time. he likes you more. but, he is so painfully unaware of it. so when he finds out that your friend has a crush on you, the petty side of him that simmers at the surface of his mind really comes through without him doing it intentionally. it becomes an increasingly common occurrence for you to receive a text from him that goes along the lines of "are you busy friday? :)", or "there's a new movie i wanna see, can we hang soon?" because he thinks you'll genuinely enjoy what he had planned for you, and not because of any other reason.
this, of course, is his way of getting you away from that guy who's trying to get with you. honestly, he thinks he's boring and won't treat you right. there's really no one in your circle that he deems worthy for you.
you're more than happy to spend time with him. but it starts to get to a point where you're wondering 'what are we' when he starts to get a little more clingy, more so than his usual friendly self. his hands linger a little longer on yours, his eyes seem to follow your every move and he's smiling at you in a way that holds so much adoration that your heart starts beating faster.
when you text him that you can't hang because you feel bad you keep blowing off the friend-in-question, who had asked for your time today already, he sulks like crazy. he knows he shouldn't be so childish about it but it sucks because you're his best friend and you're wasting your time on him and he's going to confess to you and then you're gonna start dating each other and then you'll get married and go away forev—oh. oh man.
he quickly grabs his jacket and runs to your place before you can even think about leaving for your outing.
you see him show up to your front door and almost collapse to his knees, leaning an arm on the frame of your front door. "what the hell— jiseok?! are you okay?" and he's heaving so hard he can barely speak, "yeahi'mfineILOVE. YOU. ohgodmyribs. DON'T. GOTOHIM. i just. foundoutiloveyou. stay. right here". you can barely believe what he's saying, not only because he's huffing and puffing, but because you really had no idea he felt the same about you. the silence worries him because he looks up to see your confusion, or worse, hesitance, and through his labored breath and takes your hand in his. on one knee as if asking for your hand in marriage, "stay with me. please," and you can't help but laugh when it finally all clicks. this is such a dramatically jiseok way to profess feelings to someone. you're definitely gonna bring this up again.
but for now, with a bright smile, you give his hand a reassuring squeeze, "come in. let's get you some water."
o.de — kicks himself into action
finding out is a wake-up call to him. he kicks himself for getting complacent. it's not that he didn't think other guys would be into you or anything, just that he didn't think it would happen so soon. he put off his feelings for you constantly because he feared ruining things between you two, but now that there was another guy in your radar it meant that he had to be on high alert. he immediately starts thinking about the best way to confess to you, and fast because who knows if this guy is going to sweep you off your feet out of nowhere.
he's trying to plan something grand and a little cheesy because he thinks, no, knows that you deserve to be appreciated. he would yell his love for you from the rooftops if he could. he's thinking about it so much that you stop hearing from him for a couple days. his absence lingers in the air around you and you start to wonder why it feels so heavy without him around, because wasn't he just a friend?
you get your hopes up when your phone pings with a text—but it's not from seungmin. there's a dull ache in your heart when you see it's from the friend-in-question. you're disappointed but don't want to take it out on him, so you say yes to dinner. you go with him, and clearly he's trying to make a move on you by spoiling you with a nice meal and compliments, but you just can't get your mind off of seungmin and what he's doing right now. you end the date, which was more just like him talking at you, by rejecting him. you're wondering if he was just friends with you to try and get a chance with you, and it hurt a little.
then, it happens. your phone buzzes as you're about to leave the restaurant. it's seungmin. as soon as you pick up he sounds out of breath and desperate. "where are you right now?!" and you answer honestly, about the date and how it ended, and how you missed talking to him. "stay right there, i'm coming."
he picks you up from the restaurant, having drove there in a hurry. there's roses and chocolate on the dashboard as if he were going on a date himself and you know immediately who it's for by the look on his face and the slight sheen of sweat like he'd been worried sick about something.
there's not even a moment that passes while in the car before you both can't help yourselves anymore, having the first real taste of what you two felt for each other, sealed with a kiss.
junhan — withdraws himself
junhan has always been quiet, but you were starting to love getting to have late night conversations with him about life itself, your place in the the universe and who's your favorite character in dungeon meshi. he seemed to open up when he was around you and you loved getting to pick apart his mind. you felt that you both were able to keep up each other's intellectual abilities, and it was refreshing.
so when he suddenly reverts back to the shy personality he had when you first met him, you know something's wrong. you're trying to figure out how to confront him about it without making him curl back into his shell even more.
in his mind, on the other hand, he's doing you a favor. after finding out that your friend has a crush on you, the one that is so much more extroverted and good at holding up conversations, he thinks its best that he takes a step back so he wouldn't be taking up space in your life that could be reserved for your friend. he throws himself into work even more so than before, using it as an excuse to avoid you so it doesn't hurt as much when you inevitably start dating that stupid guy. but that doesn't mean he stops watching and analyzing, watching to see if that guy really, truly was good enough for you.
and of course, he wasn't. call it intuition or just plain logic, junhan noticed how he very often seemed to talk over you. it bothered him to know that there's a possibility that you'd be happier with your friend, but it bothered him more to think about you unhappy with him, because at least junhan would actually notice if you were.
that wouldn't do at all. while junhan is very rational he absolutely does not mess around when it comes to you. the friend-in-question is busy chatting away while you're forced to listen to him. you think he's a nice guy, but he was the type of person who was more used to talking at someone rather than to them. you never really felt heard when speaking to him, unlike with junhan who took every word you said into account, making sure you knew your thoughts mattered to him.
junhan, with tingling fingertips and an audacity that could only be stirred up by the thought of losing you, calmly walks up to you two. you wouldn't have guessed it took all his courage to ask "can we get drinks tonight?" and you're over the moon at the mere suggestion, "is that even a question?! of course, i haven't seen you around in ages!". your eyes light up with excitement, unable to stop yourself from excitedly rambling about how you really wanted to talk about some new manga that dropped during his absence. junhan smiles at you, half because he knows this feels right, like you both were meant to be together in this moment, and half because he loves the way that guy's stupid grin drops when he sees how happy you are to see him.
"so it's a date?" junhan says with a radiant smile, almost as if the guy standing next to you didn't exist. he was enjoying taunting this guy a little too much, he thinks to himself. your jaw drops a little at this unexpected confidence, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't want it to be. and so you shoot a quick, very obviously awkward glance at the so called 'friend', thinking about who you knew would treat you right, and turn back to say:
"it's a date."
jooyeon — makes it everyone's problem
when jooyeon finds out about your friend's crush on you he cannot stop from complaining about him to his bandmates. jiseok rolls his eyes hearing the groans from jooyeon, going for the millionth time this week that "he's just not right for her" and "he's not even good looking" and "she's way out of his league!" to lying in bed upside down with his head hanging off the edge groaning into his palms, "but what if she likes him though?! do you think she does?! is that why she hasn't been around lately? aghhhh, girls are so confusing. this sucks. wanna play league?" in which jiseok replies with a sigh, "dude, you could just text her and figure it out for yourself right now." and leaves before his head explodes from how much of a baby joo gets when he's frustrated about something.
when he's finally alone, jooyeon gets to sit alone with his thoughts. just pure and utter him, not the shining jooyeon on stage with his bass, and the thought of you, beautiful and kind, and how much he misses the sound of your pretty laugh. you're constantly on his mind. sometimes he finds himself idly smiling about some dumb text you sent him or the one time where you tried singing along to his strumming and it wasn't good but you gave it your all. it was just so you. you're his friend, yes, but he didn't realize how he felt something so much more for you until the idea of you not being around him anymore became a very real possibility.
the thought of you not being in his life wasn't even in the question for him. it breaks his heart to think of such a thing happening, that he wouldn't be the one making you happy but some other, boring, loser of a guy ... but he doesn't let the others know that part. deep down he's more insecure than he lets on. whatever exasperated complaining he lets out barely scratches the surface of the sort of emotional vortex swirling in him at this very moment thinking about you dating someone else.
when he sees you he makes it so unbelievably obvious, everyone around you two is betting on the moment that you finally realize. you're wrapping up your lunch together when he brings it up. "stoooop hanging out with him, he's boring and he only plays fps games, i mean come on," he's basically begging you like a kid.
you snort at him, "and you know almost every pokemon. he's not doing anything wrong, we all have things we really like." you're saying this to defend your point but in reality you also thought it was annoying that that was all he talked about with you and didn't seem to care about what you liked at all.
"yeah, well." jooyeon grumbles, pitifully tucking his head into the crook of his arm, leaning onto the table. he doesn't make eye contact with you, just pouting cutely. "heard he likes you, too... he's not special." the last part is almost unintelligible from the way he buries his head further into his arm as he says it.
that piques your interest. "oh? what was that? after the first part?" you know exactly what you heard but you just can't help yourself from teasing him.
"'ts nothing."
"joo." he refuses to meet your eyes but you see the tips of his ears reddening.
"i gotta get back to practice."
"joooooyeon. lee jooyeon. jooyeon of xdinary heroes. did i hear correctly? 'he's not special?'"
he's already walking off.
"joo, you know i'm going to the same place as you!" you shout after him. quickly, you shove your things into your bag and catch up to his rather hasty speed. you're giggling because you can read him like a book. that cute little pout on his face is all you need to see before you go to grab his hand mid step. he jolts a bit, not expecting your touch, before he eases into it and finally looks you in the eye.
"you ..."
shifting your hand so your fingers interlock, you smile at him, looking him in the eyes with earnest, "i like you, too."
in a few moments he's trying to stay cool and ends up failing miserably by how the corners of his mouth refuse to stay still. he can't help himself from breaking into a grin at those words. he would get to it later, be able to grandly profess his love to you like how he had imagined it going in his head, but for now he was content with this. simple and happy with your hand enveloped in his larger one.
it's by no means a scene out of a drama, but it was perfectly enough for the two of you.
(later that night jooyeon is so completely over the moon about being chosen. it feeds his ego BAD. you have to take him down a peg by telling him how he hasn't really properly confessed to you yet, and you are very entertained by how he stutters and struggles to say it to you directly after such a grand display of confidence. oh, joo ...)
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
masterlist | request rules | inbox
thank you for reading! <3
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katkat030 · 4 months ago
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There’s a fond tilt to his lips as he begins carding his fingers through Bdubs’ hair, the sensation of the strands slipping through his fingers and the weight of the head pillowed on his chest grounding. It feels right, just so, a surety that seeps into his bones and nestles there. With Bdubs curled up on the grass beside him, face turned outwards and the sleepy smile tugging at his expression just barely peeking out from beneath the arm thrown over his eyes, the irony isn’t lost on him.
Six months in the making! :) An Ethubs-focused one shot based on @shepscapades' Detroit Become Hermitcraft au!
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supertrxshwrites · 6 months ago
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Bruises
Pairing:Deadpool x Reader
TW//blood mention, knife,gun, violence,
Part II
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You have finally made it home after that awful date, I mean seriously the guy could’ve told you he had a girlfriend and saved you the trouble and drama. You unlocked the door and something felt off immediately, you closed the door dropped your purse, and readied your knife. Someone’s in your house.
You were sure you locked everything before leaving you even triple-checked. So how the hell could someone be here right now? Your heart was pounding from the adrenaline you were feeling, palms getting clammy but you made sure to keep a proper grip on your weapon and your breathing.
You knew once you turned on the lights you were in for it.
“Whoever you are, I promise I will fuck you up so come out now.” You yelled into the darkness of your house.
From the silence, you heard a blade unsheathe and that’s when you turned on the lights. You both made eye contact once you saw the crimson-clad man you felt your teeth clench.
You moved in unison almost like a dance you’ve done before, with your least favorite dance partner.
You ran past the couch away from him but before you could make it to your room to get your gun from the safe he was grabbing you. You swiped at him with your knife gutting a large gash into his bicep.
He winced and you took that as a chance to run away but he was too fast grabbing you again and pulling you to the ground. You wrestled and protested as he straddled you.
“Let me go…Let go-“ you screamed angrily.
You tried to sit up but he pushed you down as he gripped your neck, you tried again and this time there was some force, some anger behind it as he slammed you down again.
“You’re a feisty one Y/N I mean really givin’ a guy a workout,” he said as he put his entire weight on you, squeezing your throat.
“Get the fuck off of me, Wade” you spat back at him
“Hmm I don’t think so..ya see, pumpkin” he leaned down so his face was close to yours.
“I couldn’t help but keep tabs on you after you ghosted me. Lo and behold you’re going out on your own using everything I’ve taught you.” His voice becomes dark and you can tell he’s angry now.
“I’m not a big fan of that, especially in my color” he slides his knife up to your throat
“You’re not gonna kill me, Wade”
“Of course not sugarplum, I mean even if I wanted to I can’t, but I can still try even with that healing factor of yours I can make it hurt.” You knew what was coming next as you rolled your eyes
“I’m not doing this, Wade” your tone exasperated at what he was implying
“Awe come on doll, you’re my favorite mouse to chase” You can hear the smirk in his tone as he stabs the knife right next to your ear on the floor.
You try to squirm but he’s cemented himself on top of you.
“Wade. I’m going to kick your ass”
“Oh ho ho ho bring it on, cupcake,” he says as he leaps off of you.
You lunge at him stabbing your knife into his thigh and twisting it. He flips you onto your back and pulls the knife out of his leg flips it in his hand and goes to stab you but it goes through your hand instead.
“Baby knife!”
“Fuck!” You groan as you kick him off of you before doing a kip-up, pulling the knife from your hand.
“Look Wade I get it. I was the best you’ve ever had and now you’re obsessed but it’s time for you to move-“
You run towards him and wrap your legs around him knocking him to the ground and straddling him so you’re sitting on his chest as you punch him.
“-On!” You finish.
“I admit the sex was mind-blowing, peanut but you sound a little full of yourself maybe you need to be full of me instead”
He quips before pulling out his gun while he’s underneath you and cocking it before going to shoot you in the ribs.
“Look babycakes, maybe I’ve been doing a bit of light stalking and maybe I’ve noticed you’ve been going on dates with douche nozzles that only want you for your body” he sounds sincere but at the same time, you wonder why he’s been watching you. Is it jealousy?
Standing up you brush some hair from your face impressed that you’re doing all this in a dress. You pull another knife from your garter on your thigh
“Ho ho ho it’s like you were made for me. Damn”
He motions for you to come here with his hand.
You run towards him pushing him into your recliner by the couch. He pulls the lever making the both of you dip down.
“Come on, babygi- OW son of a shit-biscuit” he yells as you press your knife into his stomach.
“WHY are you here Wade?” You ask again as you twist the knife.
“I’m not telling,” he says in a sing-songy tone. You push the knife deeper to the point the handle is halfway through his stomach and there’s blood spilling onto your hand.
“Now. Tell me NOW.” You’re fed up with this game of cat and mouse. You punch him where the knife has been lost in a sea of red spilling from his stomach.
“Now kitten it’s almost like you’re trying to hurt me,” he says teasing you through clenched teeth. He wraps his leg around your torso pushing off of him and onto the ground again. Slamming a knee into your chest, you cough and you can taste copper on your tongue. Blood filling your mouth.
He quickly pulls out a katana and holds it against your throat the blade is so sharp it draws blood with the slight contact it makes with your skin. You quickly grab one of his guns from his hip pointing it at him.
There’s silence as you both stare at each other, huffing out of breath from the combat. Weapons drawn at each other.
“You’re fucking crazy, Y/N,” he says not moving an inch.
You smile at him blood on your teeth as you try to catch your breath.
“You love it, Wade,” you say with a wheeze.
“Sounds like I broke one of your ribs huh” he says out of breath
“I’ll live,” you say turning your head to the side and spitting the blood on the floor
“Get off me Wade,” you say out of breath, exhausted. Blood drying on your lips, and you can feel bruises forming and healing slowly.
“No.” He says with a smirk as he drops his katana on the floor.
“Stop fighting me Y/N” he sounds tired but he lifts his mask and leans down and kisses your bloody mouth. He sighs before rolling off of you and onto his knees to stand up. He grabs his katana and sheaths it on his back.
you lay on the floor for a while dreading the ache you’ll feel once you get up. you’re also dreading the clean-up you’ll have to do tomorrow.
( I’ve been thinking about writing this since I opened up requests. I NEEDED to write this)
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f1writingbyme · 6 months ago
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Fell In Love (When I Saw You Standing There) Max Verstappen/Charles Leclerc | 5,555 words | Rating G
Read on AO3 here.
Summary:
Joris sits down on the edge of Charles' bed. "So I guess Max finally asked you out?"
"He did," Charles sighs.
"And why are we acting like that's a bad thing? I thought you wanted to go out with him?"
"He's taking me to Les Rois, Jojo. Les Rois."
“I know,” Joris frowns, clearly confused about Charles’ tone of voice. “I told him to take you there.”
"What?" Charles yells, throwing the sweater he just saved from Leo's teeth in his friend's face. "Why would you do that?"
Joris stutters as the sweater hits him. He catches it in his hands before it falls back to the floor. "You like that place!"
"Yeah, I like going there with my maman. Not on a first date. Especially not on a first date with Max," Charles groans. He falls back onto the pile of clothes and sighs deeply. "Les Rois is way too fancy."
OR
Charles and Max's first date doesn't go the way it was originally planned, but it ends up exactly the way it was planned.
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hellomehlo · 23 days ago
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as promised, here she is!
originally meant to be two chapters but turned into three, because reasons lmaooo
-=-
Treacherous
Rating: Explicit (E)
Words: 6,970
Everyday life was riddled with distraction, really. Jobs were rarely as straightforward as they seemed - even on this scale, the gods themselves were hurling Blight, dragons, darkspawn - every possible diversion across her path. Even Rook, with her contagious sidelong smirk and a mouth smart enough to rival her own, continued to prove her right.
No - that wasn’t fair. Whittling her down to nothing more than a distraction left a bad taste in her mouth. But the alternative? That left far, far too many unanswered questions.
OR
Rook and Neve take a trip to Neve’s Dock Town apartment to comb through some old case notes. Naturally, things don’t go to plan.
-=-
enjoy! xo
https://archiveofourown.org/works/61942282
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flaggermousseart · 24 days ago
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“Short king, do ya know yer trending?”
Lucifer looked up at Angel Dust. “What?”
“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.” Angel swiped at his phone. “Yer trending, you and Smiles. It’s all over the news.”
“All over-” Lucifer’s confusion was quickly morphing into dread. “Angel, what are you talking about?”
Angel handed him the phone, and Lucifer was greeted by a stream of words and images. There were comments that seemed be either outrage or disbelief. There links to articles with titles like Radio Demon Crawls Into The Royal Bed. There were pictures of himself and Alastor, talking to each other, holding hands, curled up in bed together- “What the fuck!?”
“Yeah,” Angel said. “So, yer out of the closet now?”
---
When pictures revealing Lucifer and Alastor’s relationship are released to the public, it causes a media storm.
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shady-tavern · 2 years ago
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Deals and Revelry
Warnings ahead of both attempted and implied murder, along with one, early-on instance of non-consensual drug use. Please take care of yourselves.
***
In a city as big as this it was easy to get lost, easy to slip between the cracks. Easy to go unnoticed even if one walked like a severely drunk sailor fresh back on the shore.
You stumbled against the alley wall, woozy and half numb and your vision was just the faintest bit off, the world around you roiling as though the ground itself had become the sea, rising and falling in slow, cresting waves. 
Your breath was fogging in front of your face and you knew it was too cold to be out and about without a cloak, but you hadn't really gotten to grab one. Or shoes. You couldn't really feel your feet anymore.
But you were getting close. Already you could see the lights and colorful banners and decorations on the other side of the alley. You could hear it too, the sound of the Revelry, the biggest entertainment street of this city. A cesspool of backroom deals and unfettered delight.
Music and laughter mixed with the breathy moans of a couple that stumbled into the alley, the women pushing each other against the brick wall, one hoisting the other into her arms. You saw the glint of metal on one of them, the armor of the city guard and the cloak that fell down to her knees, cloth a dark forest green.
Neither paid you any mind when you shuffled down the alley, using the wall as your anchor. At this point it was the only thing properly keeping you up and walking in a straight line. You must look drunk, even if you were anything but.
You barely felt the cold with the numbness and as you stumbled out of the alley, it felt like you were hit by a wall of light and sound and movement. Lanterns were strung all across the street, reaching from house to house and the glass painted or stained, casting a multitude of colors across everything. 
People danced in big groups or on tables, more getting pulled into alleys by one or more people, big grins on their faces. Dancers and musicians performed on the stage by the crossroads that led to the Revelry, while other stages were dotted down the street, showing off other performers. 
Sword jugglers, puppeteers, actors and jesters all put on the show of the night, accompanied by music. Fortune tellers weaved through the crowd, peddlers with carts stood on corners and servers with strong arms brought round after round of drinks and food from taverns. Others lured the drunk or amorously interested towards many of the inns, slipping clever hands into unguarded coat pockets.
You had to take a moment to get used to everything and orientate yourself, to look beyond the street wide revelry towards the main house. Bigger than all the others, a four story building, freshly painted pale green walls surrounded by black wood. 
Through the lit windows you saw more partying, more dancing and someone swinging through the air gracefully.
That was your destination.
You pushed off of the corner you had stumbled against and walked onward, forcing one unsteady step in front of the other. People barely noticed when you staggered past them, some even clapping you on the back and pointing towards inns before they continued on their way.
You passed tables laden with food and drink, tables where people played games, cards and dice and something that needed a knife and quick reflexes. The air smelled heavily of ale and perfume and sweat. 
Coats and skirts billowed, hands clapping and boots meeting cobblestone like muted drums when you passed by a group of dancers.
It felt like it took forever to make your way to the main house, the Revelry that this street, this gathering was named after. A big sign was mounted over the large entrance door, made of dark green wood and gold letters that looked freshly polished, shining in the light.
You shouldered inside, heat and smells greeting you, followed by loud cheers. So loud and from so many throats they seemed to make the air itself rumble.
Past the shifting bodies you got glimpses of a stage that went up to the second floor, of people swinging through the air, colorful figures catching others. 
The crowd cheered loudly once again, tankards getting raised or slammed onto tables in time with the jig the musicians played. Coin clattered and servers maneuvered past patrons like they were made of water, never slowing down, perfect smiles pasted on their faces.
It took you a long minute to spot him, the owner of this place, the founder of the Revelry, Quin. There were many whispers about this man who owned the night and even had the city guard unable to stop his dealings.
Face painted white with black tracks down his cheeks like tears, his lips were stained a bloody red and his grin was just a little too sharp. His canines just a tad too long. For all that he leaned back in his seat, languid and relaxed, he gave off an air of effortless power and dangerous grace.
He was dressed in expensive finery, diamond studded jewelry and silken, embroidered clothes that only the highest ranking noble houses would have been able to afford. Everything was modeled to resemble a court jester, a clear and unashamed mockery of those in power.
There were rumors about him, things you had heard here and there, whispers shared by friends and overheard from chatting guards who wishing to unsettle the new recruit. People said he had stopped being a mortal man before ever coming to this city, that he commanded the shadows and drank blood like wine. 
That he had made a pact with something that should have been left damn well alone. Something older and more dangerous than anything else.
As you tried to make your way towards him, stumbling into strangers who shoved you onward with either laughs or glares, you saw that he was speaking with a nervous looking man.
The man was tall and broad, shoulders tense and posture wary as he gripped his tankard, speaking to Quin about something. You couldn't hear what was being said, but Quin threw his head back and laughed and the burly man visibly grit his teeth, leaning back slightly as though worried.
Quin grinned at him, sharp teeth and dangerous eyes and waved a hand in a lazy gesture. A whip-thin woman melted out of the shadows, dressed in all black and with a blank, white mask covering her face. 
She came to stand at Quin's side and offered him a rolled up piece of parchment. Quin took it and held it out towards the burly man, still grinning.
The man took it after a long second of hesitation and the woman held out a quill next. There was no ink, but the man seemed to be able to sign anyway and you got a glimpse of bloody ink flowing from the dry quill. 
His face was grim when he handed the scroll back and the woman stepped forward when Quin accepted it, waiting and arms loose at her sides. 
The man got up and she followed him and they disappeared into the crowd. When Quin got to his feet, you made yourself move faster. He couldn't slip away. Not when you were so damn close.
You tripped over someone's foot, the person giving you an annoyed shove, but it propelled you forward the last bit. Undignified, yes, but Quin caught you before you could fall to your face.
"Now there, usually I have to put in some work to make people swoon like this," he said with a mocking undertone, pulling you upright with seemingly no effort at all. Before he could let go, you gripped his arms, making him raise his brows.
"Here for a deal," you managed to slur out and for just a moment it looked like he was going to send you away anyway, before he paused and leaned in.
"You are not drunk," he said, a warm finger curling under your chin to tip it up, making your gaze meet his dark eyes. "Tell me, did you intend to ingest a drug?"
Your grip on his arms tightened and a smile curled across his face that managed to be far more dangerous than the one the burly man had gotten. The sort of smile that made it easy to imagine blood being spilled and a last breath being exhaled.
"Now, I don't like that in my establishment at all," he downright purred, moving in a step, head bending down towards you a bit. He was propping you up with his body more than anything else with how close he was and you were glad he hadn't shaken you off. "Why don't you point me to the one who did that, sweetheart?"
You shook your head. It was getting harder to think and you could feel his warmth through the numbness that gripped your limbs. You had no idea how much longer you could fight this off, especially now that you had finally found him and you didn't have to force yourself to keep moving.
You were just so relieved you thoughtlessly leaned into his hold. The only reason you caught the brief flash of surprise in his eyes was because you were so close to him.
"I need a deal," you managed to say, unable to raise your voice much, but with him right there, breath lightly brushing your nose and cheek, he heard you well enough. "Please."
"Why don't you tell me what happened first, hm?" he asked, curled finger still under your chin. His brows furrowed slightly. "You are quite cold, were you outside until recently?" His dangerous grin returned. "I can find out who did this, even if it was down the street, don't you worry."
"My fiancé," you said and the smile fell away as his brows rose. "His mother is going to kill my parents and then me. They will do it after the wedding tomorrow. Please."
"Hm." He seemed curious at least. "Why not go to the city guard? I know I'm never the first resort, only the desperate and degenerate come here." He leaned a little closer still, your noses almost touching, revealing a hint of his sharp teeth as he smiled. "You do know what kind of deals I offer, don't you, sweetheart?"
"They're too rich," you made yourself say. Your tongue felt heavier than before and it was getting harder to keep your eyes open. "They have deals with the captain of the guard."
Quin suddenly sounded delighted. "Is that so? How delightful, I knew Albert was going to slip up one day. Thank you for that one, darling. But why not grab your parents and go away instead of coming here?"
"They arranged the wedding." And you hadn't even minded at first. The wealthy merchant's son had been pleasant enough after all, polite and maybe a bit reserved but not unfriendly.
Neither of you would have married for love, but during the conversations you had shared with the young, admittedly pretty man, it had become clear the two of you could have come to a good agreement. 
Not all marriages were unions of hearts after all and there were plenty of ways to make it work. Plenty of ways to treat this like any old business agreement that both sides could benefit from. You had even thought the two of you could become good friends in given time.
Until you had overheard his mother's plans by accident tonight and had gotten discovered when you had tried to sneak away from her study. Your fiancé had done nothing when your future mother in law had gotten her personal guard to grab you before you could flee. 
Your future mother in law had put some clear liquid into a cup of water while the guard had wrestled you towards her, muttering that you had to keep quiet until the wedding. That your parents wouldn't care about the state you were in so long as you signed the wedding contract. 
She wasn't even wrong. Your parents would never again get the sort of deal the merchant had made with them. Your parents' business would join together with hers and it would make everyone all the richer. But if everyone died after the wedding, then your future mother in law would get to own your family business through her son.
Your parents wanted wealth too much themselves and unless you had managed to prove that your fiancé mistreated you, which he never did, they wouldn't stop the wedding for anything. Neither would they believe you if you showed up with wild sounding accusations such as planned murder out of nowhere.
Your future mother in law had proceeded to shove the concoction down your throat once she had it in the cup – or part of it at least.
It had been nothing but pure luck that you had managed to take hold of the guard's dagger at their hip and draw it. It had been a mad scramble where you had lashed out in a blind panic, the guard falling back with a howl and hands pressed over their bleeding face.
You had stabbed your future mother in law right in the thigh and had run, managing to toss a vase at your fiancé's head. Then you had kept running straight here. The only place you could think of to get help. The only place you trusted would help you, even if you'd have to give up something in the process. 
You just wanted to live.
"I see." Quin tipped your chin up again, your head having slumped down a bit. You met his gaze and there was a red, fiery glow lurking in his dark eyes as though embers had come to life. "Want to me to get rid of your parents too?"
"No." They hadn't been...great, recently, but you wanted to deal with them yourself. "I don't want to die."
"I suppose you wouldn't," Quin murmured, almost too quietly for you to hear him. "Alright then, let's get you situated."
He moved his arm to hold you around the shoulders and bending down to pick you up under your knees. His words registered and you sagged with relief at once, pressing your head against his shoulder.
You felt him pause for just a moment and you felt the shift of muscle along his neck as he looked down at you.
"Aren't you a strange one," you heard him murmur. He was quiet for a second, then chuckled, low and dark. "Just alone to spite you I will do exactly that."
It didn't sound like he was speaking to you and he turned around, walking away from the press of bodies. Even half passed out you noticed it when the air shifted and five people stepped straight out of the shadows. 
They were all masked, blank or painted, their clothes either black or colorful. You moved your head enough to peer past Quin's shoulder and you saw the glint on metal on them, blades and daggers, armor hidden under cloaks and silk shawls. 
They looked nothing like the guards or mercenaries, but each and every one of them felt threatening enough that you half expected to cut yourself on their presences alone.
But most dangerous of them all was Quin. He felt like walking death as he held you, something so dangerous it would have stolen your breath away under any other circumstance. Instead, it made you relax further, one hand rising to lightly grip his sinfully soft silk doublet.
Quin hummed softly and this time, the words were directed at you as he said, "You are very strange indeed."
"Boss?" you heard one of the masked ones ask and when Quinn made a low noise, they stepped past to open a door at the back of the large tavern room. "What's your order?"
"I think we're going to have fun tonight," Quin said, voice light, but if words were capable of dripping blood, his would have, staining his tongue and sliding down his chin, thick and copper-sweet.
Quin carried you down a hallway and another door was opened within a few moments. The sound of the revelry was muffled and almost far away now as he stepped into a room and a couple of steps later you were gently set down on a couch that was softer than your own bed.
"You're not even wearing shoes," Quin mused and paused when you found yourself holding onto his sleeve when he stepped back. "Easy now, sweetheart, we'll take care of that little mess, won't we?"
"Thank you," you managed to slur out and he hummed again, waiting with unexpected patience for you to let go. When you did, he spread something warm and heavy over you. A blanket. "Sleep now. Believe it or not, but you will be safe here."
"I know." And you did believe him. Somehow, despite everything you had been taught and all the rumors you had heard, Quin felt safe. Safe enough that the fear that had driven you to his Revelry finally released it's bruising grip on you altogether.
Warm knuckles brushed your cheek. "You actually do believe it," Quin murmured. "That's a first, I have to admit."
"Deal?" you made yourself ask, because everyone knew that Quin always made deals. He never did anything for free. 
Quin was silent for a long moment. Long enough that you thought he wouldn't answer, until he said, "You already gave me something no one else has. Not in a very long time at least. Let that be my payment. Rest, sweetheart. Your worries will be dead when you wake."
You heard rustling as he shifted and turned around to walk away. 
"My friends," Quin said, voice strong and confident and there was a deep rumble to his words, something just a little too unnatural. No human throat should be able to make that sound.
The last words you heard before you faded into unconsciousness were said with a grin that dripped with malevolent violent, "Tonight we hunt."
*.*.*
You woke up with your head pounding and your mouth tasting the way old, wet socks smelled. Your body ached all over and when you tried to shift, you ended up groaning and burrowing more into the pillow. A pillow that smelled nothing like yours.
"Good morning," an amused voice said and you blearily forced your eyes open and looked up.
There he was, Quin, the founder of the Revelry. Your memories of last were a little foggy, but mostly you recalled his warmth and how safe you had felt. You still felt safe and warm now, bundled beneath a thick, soft blanket.
"Still not afraid, I see," he mused and leaned back a bit. He wore different clothes to last night, something a bit more muted, but the face paint was still there. "I have to thank you, we had quite a bit of fun tracing back your steps and getting to hunt." 
His head tipped and his smile widened into that dangerous grin, showing his teeth. His lips were painted a blood red so vivid you wouldn't have been surprised if he had used actual, fresh blood. "Want a trophy?"
"No, thank you." You winced at how croaky your voice sounded and you forced yourself to sit up, limbs aching. You blinked when an elegant hand offered you a cup of water.
You took it and for just a split second you remembered the way your future mother in law had forced spiked water down your throat, then you shook off the memory. Quin of all people had no need to drug your drink, especially when he had had you drugged and at his mercy just hours prior.
"What do I owe you?" you asked after emptying the cup.
Quin raised a brow and sat down on the other end of the couch, thigh nearly brushing your toes. He leaned back, throwing one arm over the backrest of the couch as he regarded you with dark, curious eyes. "You're not going to ask if we took care of the problem?"
"You always do," you answered. "At least, that's what I heard."
"A business man such as myself takes great pride in a good reputation," Quin mused. "You are correct, they are very much dead. I would not recommend visiting that house anytime soon if it can be avoided."
"Thank you." The relief was still as potent as last night, thought not quite as soul-deep, for the fear wasn't there anymore. "What do I owe you?"
Quin waved you off with a dismissive flap of his hand. "You already paid, don't you worry your pretty little head." Before you could do so much as open your mouth to protest, he got to his feet again. "And now I will be dreadfully rude by tossing you out on your ear. I need my office back, sweetheart."
Blinking, you realized that you were, indeed, in an office. Lavishly decorated, with a rug as black as coal and, very, very faintly visible stains along the hardwood that you were willing to identify as dried blood.
"Of course, I'm sorry for being a bother," you said hurriedly, freeing your legs from the blanket, but the moment you tried to get up, your feet bumped into shoes. Looking down in surprise, you saw simple shoes in your size, a little scuffed but otherwise well maintained.
"I'll pay you for these," you offered and Quin rolled his eyes as you put them on.
"Just bring them back later. Now, please go." He ushered you up and pushed you out the door with a polite smile, gesturing down the hallway to the door that led into the tavern.
Instead of closing the door, however, he leaned against the doorframe and a bare moment later the door to the tavern swung open and the captain of the guard marched inside.
Before you knew it, you had shied back to Quin's side, as Albert glowered at you so viciously it wouldn't have surprised you if his glare had seared your skin like acid.
"No need to be impolite, Captain," Quin said with a smile sharp enough to peel away layers of skin. Albert flinched, just a little and the way he averted his gaze to his feet was all the more noticeable for it. "We're just going to have a friendly chat."
Quin pressed one warm palm against the small of your back. "Go on," he murmured, leaning closer to you, his warm breath brushing the shell of your ear. "He won't do anything." He raised his voice without moving back, gaze pinning Albert in place the way a scientist would pin down a helpless butterfly. "Won't he?"
Albert said nothing, but he stopped walking and moved over to the side, freeing up as much of the hallway as he could. Quin gave you a small push and you walked on, shuffling past the captain of the guard, feeling like a scurrying mouse.
You glanced back just once when you reached the door. Quin regarded Albert with feigned, gentle politeness as he walked past him into his office, the door closing behind the two of them.
Barely anyone was in the tavern at this hour when you stepped into the large room. Some hungover people sat at the bar, stirring oatmeal or nibbling on dry bread, looking either a bit green or half asleep. 
The place was cleaner than it would have been elsewhere after a night of wild partying. No smashed glass was anywhere, not even spilled, sticky residue from drinks. Everything from the bartop to the tables and the floor looked freshly wiped down.
The air was still cool, but not as cold as last night when you left the tavern, the sky overcast. 
The street outside the Revelry looked cleaned up as well, tables moved to the side, chairs stacked on top, to make for easy passing. A carriage rattled through and you heard someone puke in an alley as you passed by with quick steps.
It felt almost unreal as you made your way home. Your childhood home, not the big townhouse you had stayed in in preparation for your wedding. Your parents were at the kitchen table, greeting you with smiles when you entered.
"Looking forward to your big day?" your father asked as he buttered his breadroll. "Your dress is waiting upstairs for you."
They didn't know yet. You took a deep breath and it filled your lungs in a way it hadn't for weeks. You felt free, you realized. Free of your fiancé and a future you hadn't wanted, even if you would have accepted it with dignity and plans to make things work to the best of your abilities. 
You took another deep breath, marveling at how much lighter you felt. "There won't be a wedding," you said and the words almost made you smile. When your parents looked up, surprised and worried, you added, "They got killed last night."
It was as though your parents saw you properly for the first time. Your nightclothes which were inappropriate to leave the house in, the shoes they had never seen you wear before and your somewhat bedraggled and worn appearance.
"What happened?" your father asked at the same time as your mother said, "What did you do?"
And now you did smile, just a little. It wasn't a happy expression and you probably looked more like you were baring your teeth. "I made sure I lived."
*.*.*
The Revelry was filled with overlapping conversations and the occasional laugh as the afternoon crowd ate their lunch, spread out around the tables. 
Already preparations for tonight's party were in full swing, decorations being pinned in place and some performers were warming up, others checking the trapeze and ribbons to ensure nothing could go wrong.
Quin was at the bar, speaking with the barkeep who listened with an attentive frown. She gave an understanding nod and Quin tapped the bar with his palm, smiling in languid satisfaction.
He then noticed your approach, smiling easily at you as he turned to face you, leaning back against the bar, elbows braced on the bartop. He looked just as confident and in control as a king might on his throne.
"Sweetheart, what brings me the pleasure of your presence?" he asked as you approached. Today his outfit was as blood red as his lips, accented with black and his jewelry glinted gold, the rubies looking like drops of blood that hung from his ears and decorated his neck and hands.
"I'm going to return your shoes," you said and he waved you off when you presented them.
"I don't remember where I got them," he said with a shrug. "Leave them by the door if you like. Someone will pick them up at some point."
"Oh." You were about to step away again, Quin's attention already moving on, the conversation over in his mind, when you paused. You knew he said you had paid already, even if you had no idea how or when or with what, but it didn't feel like enough. "Let me take you out to dinner."
His dark gaze snapped back to you and from the corner of your eye you noticed the barkeeper openly gawk at you.
"Are you asking me out?" he sounded bemused and the faintest bit baffled. Realizing how your offer had sounded, you floundered for a moment, then shrugged awkwardly, waving around the shoes as you gestured.
"Just...I want to say thank you properly." When he was about to speak, you quickly added, "I know, you said I paid already, but I still want to do this. You did more than you had to that night."
The barkeep downright stared at you now, looking gobsmacked that you had interrupted her boss, her gaze bouncing between you two. Quin tipped his head, earrings glinting in the light that fell through the window. Then he smiled and shrugged.
"Alright, why not." He pushed off the bar, gesturing for you to go ahead. "Besides, what fool turns down a free meal? Lead the way, my dear."
You left the shoes beside the entrance beneath the coat rack, like he had suggested. A carriage was waiting outside, the one you had taken to this place and the driver was visibly uncomfortable when Quin smiled at him as he helped you inside with a slightly exaggerated bow.
"Fancy," Quin said with a toothy grin as he sat down across from you and you knocked against the roof, the carriage lurching into motion. "I can't say I've been asked out like this before."
"You did mention having trouble to make people fall for you," you found yourself saying and he blinked, then threw his head back as he laughed.
"Oh, I think I like you," he said, eyes looking even darker than before, his smile sharper. "This might be a fun outing after all. Say, where are you taking me?"
"It's a surprise," you answered and he leaned forward a bit, resting his elbows on his knees as though the carriage wasn't jostling the two of you around slightly.
"Can I guess?" he asked and at your shrug, he began to list places, starting with some waterholes you had heard the worst kind of stories about and ending with places so fancy and expensive only nobility would have been able to afford them.
You had to laugh at his latest suggestion and the carriage slowed to a stop a moment later. "Alright, we're here."
You got out first and offered your hand with the same exaggerated bow as he had and he grinned down, accepting it with over-the-top aplomb. Then he looked up, face brightening. "Oh my, you have chosen unexpectedly well."
You smiled and led the way inside. It wasn't easy to get a table in this place on short notice, but you had been lucky. A patron had cancelled their reservation just moments before you had shown up.
The server showed you to a table that had a good view of the stage and while he was polite, you noticed that he seemed unable to meet Quin's eyes. 
All the patrons around you seemed uncomfortable, turning tense and quiet as the two of you sat down. You noticed some whispering and two people subtly getting up and hurrying away. If Quin noticed as well, he made no mention of it.
Just after ordering food and drink, the first musician showed up and the strangers around you stopped mattering. There was no need to pay attention to anything else when people sang and played their instruments so wonderfully. Quin seemed more than happy to watch the performances as well.
"I think I have to see if I can poach some of them," he mused quietly during an interlude. He was half done with his meal and you were certain it should have grown cold by now, but it was still steaming slightly.
He turned back to you, looking thoughtful. "Are you trying to butter me up for something? Are you in need of a deal now that your future prospect has been...scattered." He said the last word with the sort of smile that felt like it should drip blood down his chin.
"No." You knew just how damn lucky you were that he hadn't demanded a proper deal from you. That whatever you had given him that night, it somehow had been payment enough. You would not tangle with that again if you could help it. "I just wanted to say thank you."
"Hm." He watched you a moment longer, then cut into his steak again. "I believe you."
The performances resumed shortly after and it was quite a pleasant meal. When at last it was over and Quin and you got up, the other patrons hung back, giving the two of you quite a berth. 
Quin was in high spirits, talking easily about what he had liked and enjoyed, gesturing and there was a small spring in his step.
"I have to say, that has been the best meal I had in quite a while," he said, offering his arm as you approached the stairs. You took it readily and he was still as warm as you remembered.
"I'm glad," you said. "I quite enjoyed myself as well." It had been unexpectedly easy to spend time with Quin. He clearly didn't care about impressing others or bothered to worry about what anyone thought of him and it was rather refreshing.
"Well, if you find yourself in need for a dinner companion again, you know where to find me," he said as he stopped in front of the carriage that had returned in time to pick you up. He helped you inside but didn't follow when you waited for him. "There are some artists I have to speak with. See you around, love."
He stepped back and you knocked on the carriage roof without looking away from him. You found your gaze lingering on him until the carriage rounded the corner. He had stayed where he was as he watched you leave, people still giving him plenty of space, their gazes averted.
*.*.*
Somehow, as the days and weeks passed, you found yourself returning to the Revelry again and again. You didn't always see Quin and sometimes he was too busy to do more than greet you, but that was alright. 
His staff had grown unexpectedly fond of you, greeting you with smiles and offering free drinks on the house. Aside from the artists, you got to know Quin's hunters, as most people called them, rather well. 
The hunters were the ones that wore masks and never showed their faces. The ones that everyone seemed uncomfortable around, though they seemed to find them slightly less unsettling than Quin.
Quin, whenever he had time for you, was excellent company. He made you feel warm and welcome and it was so easy to relax and be yourself in his presence. He made you laugh and let you lean against him, made your dreary days brighter and was well read and well educated.
You had both found yourself debating philosophical questions for hours with him and you had danced in the warm rain as summer began, laughing as he hopped through puddles with you, his make-up never once running.
He had made it far, far too easy to fall in love with him. 
With his sharp blood-smiles and his dark eyes and delighted grins at all the joys the world had to offer. With his danger and confident grace and the good treatment of his employees. With the way he leaned in, breath warm against the shell of your ear, as he pointed things out to you or shared secrets.
"How come the boss doesn't bother you?" the barkeeper asked you one afternoon as you waited for Quin to finish a deal and join you for another outing. "It even took me a while to be comfortable around him and he's been nothing but friendly to me from the start."
You knew what she meant, you had observed the effect Quin had on people for some time now. Quin was dangerous and you weren't fool or delusional enough to not know that. To not know that you could easily have that danger turned on you should you threaten him and his.
But it was hard to forget the way he had caught you instead of letting you fall, that he had immediately offered to take care of a perceived offense that few others would have even bothered to acknowledge. That he had covered you with a blanket and gotten you shoes and hadn't asked you to sign any of the scrolls he handed to virtually everyone else that approached him for deals.
So you just shrugged and the barkeep left it at that.
"Love, how good to see you, thank you for waiting," Quin's voice drew your attention and he approached you, easily throwing an arm over your shoulders and tucking you against his side. "Where to today? The usual place?"
You had visited the academy inn you had taken him to a couple of times since, but you shook your head. "I found a new place. Come on or we'll be late."
"Oh, we can't have that, can we?" he sounded delighted, steering you towards the door and lifting his free hand in a lazy goodbye wave to his employees. "Until later, you scoundrels, don't do anything I wouldn't do," he called out, getting laughter and some hoots in return.
Hanging out with Quin had, faster than you had expected, turned into one of your favorite things. He had an ease about him that was part of anything he did and his presence had the added benefit that no one ever bothered you if you went out with him.
It was easy to tell Quin everything and he was a great confidante. Never once had he shared your secrets with anyone else and he never judged you for anything either. He spoke less about himself, but every little thing he revealed you found yourself hoarding like a jealous dragon who managed to scrape together a few coins.
Today, to your surprise, he ended up sharing more than before. Maybe it was the play you had brought him to, one that turned him quieter and more thoughtful than anything else before.
"I know you know I'm not human, not anymore," he said quietly as he watched the lead act fall to his knees in front of a demon, hands raised in supplication. "But you never ask about it."
"In all honesty, I don't care about what you are," you answered just as quietly. "I like you the way you are."
For the first time since you got to know him, he seemed to have no idea what to say. He reached out, offering his hand and you took it readily enough. To your delighted surprise, he laced your fingers together. 
Then he brought your hand up to his lips and you found yourself unable to look away from him. From his dark eyes that began to glow ever so faintly like embers.
He brushed his lips over your knuckles. "I sold my soul to something far older than this world," he murmured, as though pressing his confession into your skin. "I never regretted it, I lead a life I very, very much enjoy after all." 
He pressed a kiss against your knuckles, lips leaving behind red smears like blood, his gaze heavy. "But ever since I got to know you, I find myself glad for my younger self's foolish recklessness. I don't think I could have ever met you otherwise."
"We would have met," you found yourself answering, quiet but sure, certain in a way you felt in the marrow of your bones. "I would have found you."
You would have crossed paths with this man and you would have seen in him what you saw now. Someone who had shaken off the shackles of society, someone who was close to you in spirit. Someone who understood you in a way so few did. Someone who had grown so very, very dear to you.
"And I would have killed for you," Quin said, brushing one more confession against your knuckles before he let your combined hands sink down to the arm of his chair. "I hope you know that I would promise you what I promised this ancient thing years ago if I could."
You hadn't dared to hope, not when you had worried, just a little, that Quin didn't quite feel for you what you felt for him. But now your heart leaped high and soared and a happy grin appeared on your face. "I know now."
He smiled back at you and while you knew his smiles would never be soft and adoring the way you had seen other men smile at their lovers, you didn't want them to be. You liked his danger and his sharp teeth and the way he at times seemed two steps away from going unhinged.
Quin said nothing else for the rest of the performance, but neither did either of you let go of the other's hand. He held it all the way to the carriage, where he offered another of his playfully exaggerated bows while he held open the door.
You set a foot inside, only to lean over and brush a kiss against his cheek. "I had fun tonight."
"I think that's my line," he teased, looking up at you for once. "I'll take you out next time, how does that sound?"
"I look forward to it," you said and he let go of your hand, silver earrings reflecting the light as they swung softly when he closed the door.
He once again waited on the sidewalk as the carriage carried you away and you waved at him, watching him laugh and sketch another bow. The moment he was out of view, his words seeped back into your mind.
You mulled them over for days and slowly, bit by bit, you managed to tease more information out of Quin when you saw him. He never told you what sort of deal he made or with what being, but that was alright. You had access to a library after all and there was an old occultist that frequently visited the Revelry.
It was easy enough to intercept him one night and pull him aside while Quin was busy making deals. You got the man drunk enough to loosen his tongue and since he knew you and Quin were close, he seemed to have come to the assumption that you knew more than most.
You didn't, Quin had kept you firmly away from the sort of things he dealt with, but that assumption worked well in your favor.
Quin and you went on more outings together and despite his usual unafraid and near greedy claiming of the things he wanted, he hadn't done much more than share chaste kisses with you.
He was very content to take things at your pace and you found that incredibly charming, but you were ready to go further. So the next time you visited him, you leaned in and kissed him, deepening the kiss as he leaned against the bar, patrons and employees alike hooting and hollering as he returned the kiss eagerly.
"I think it's time we take this a little further," you whispered against his lips, knowing yours were stained blood red right now.
He was grinning, eyes glowing faintly when you separated. "Oh, love," he murmured in that low voice that seemed to rumble in the air itself. "You can have me as much as you like."
He kissed you breathless and took you dancing until you felt like your heart had soaked up enough joy and love to grow wings and take flight, the two of you never separating for long. 
The next night you kissed him deeply once more and he led you through a night of delight, leaving you gasping and breathless and grinning as wildly as he did.
"Why didn't you ask for a normal deal when you met me?" you asked him that night when you were half asleep in bed with him, his hand tracing shapes across your back. "What was it that I gave you?"
He was quiet for long enough that you were almost fully asleep when he answered, quiet like it was an important secret, "You gave me trust in a way no one had in far, far too long."
You fell asleep with a smile while he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
You loved him more than ever and when your parents brought up the topic of marriage again a couple of days later, you firmly told them you had chosen your own partner this time. You were done with catering to their desires and wishes. Never again would you let them control your future like they once had.
Especially when, instead, you could spend it with Quin and the Revelry.
It took you another couple of weeks, summer fading to cold autumn, until you at last had everything ready.
A day later, on his birthday, you tumbled Quin into bed while laughter drifted up from the tavern a floor below. Laughter was caught between your lips as you kissed and he made you sing in the best of ways, curling around you afterwards, sated and delighted.
You were reasonably certain that Quin needed next to no sleep, considering that a hunter had once mentioned that he only went to his rooms to read or when you were with him. He did sleep around you, or at least something like it. He always was a little too still when he did it, his breathing just a bit too deep to be normal, his heartbeat that unsettling extra second too slow.
You waited until he grew still and deep and slow and then you snuck out of bed, slow and careful. He didn't wake, not when you pulled pouches from your pockets. Not when you drew in chalk on his floor, not when you set up candles and lit them and not when you approached him with the dagger, metal etched with symbols that made no sense to you, but you knew were correct.
He didn't even wake when you carefully pricked the tip of one finger, letting a single drip of blood fall onto the blade. That one drop swiftly filled all the carved in grooves and lines and now came the thing that had taken the longest to obtain.
It had taken you days to find people even willing to hear you out, never mind go on the sort of dangerous trip you needed to send them on. 
But a group of slightly wild-eyed, hungry adventurers had taken you upon the offer and they had, after weeks, delivered. Bruised, blooded and broken but victorious, grins wilder than ever and their hunger sated. For now.
The heart looked unexpectedly small, barely bigger than half your palm, but it beat still and it was as black as tar. The last tether the ancient horror had to this world.
You placed it in the middle of the circle, Quin still deeply asleep on the bed. His mind was most likely at another place, maybe he was even with this ancient thing, listening to its demands for souls and years and emotions and whatever else he fed it. It was powerful, no doubt, but you also knew Quin was the only reason it got to eat at all.
He was the only one who had a contract with it, the first and only one in centuries who had stumbled across a half sunken tomb and had figured out enough of the symbols to cobble together a ritual. Even his hunters were only an extension of his deal with the old horror he had found.
He hadn't quite understood what he had done, what he had summoned and bound himself to, but he had whole-heartedly accepted it all the same. Unafraid as he was in everything.
There was no undoing what had been done to him, the occultist had been firm about that when you had asked. Quin had given up his humanity and reversing that would be his end. His soul and body and mind had changed too much already. Furthermore, he liked himself like this. 
He didn't want to change, even if he wished he could be free of the contract.
His body bowed like a man possessed when you pierced the heart and a noiseless shriek echoed through the room. It wasn't sound but instead pressure, making the very air itself vibrate, floorboards groaned and walls cracked, windows rattled and shattered and for a second you thought you yourself would break too.
Your bones seemed to try to shrink smaller, your mind feeling like it got squeezed from all sides as fury slammed into you, your ears popping painfully. Fury and fear.
It was that last emotion, that gave you the strength to grip the dagger with both hands and twist it, rending the small, black heart in two.
It was like an outward explosion, as though something as big as a continent exhaled it's least breath forcefully, desperate as it lost its grip on life. The walls and floor cracked to the point where you half expected them to cave and crumble and all at once the candles were extinguished.
In the light from the full moon outside you watched the black heart turn to dust and then it got blown away by a faint breeze until nothing was left.
"What?" Quin's gasping inhale drew your attention and you realized you were shaking and sweating and feeling unnaturally cold.
He sat up in bed, eyes glowing like an entire fireplace full of embers. "Love," he said and his voice rumbled through the air, heavy with new power. "What did you do?"
"Happy birthday," you answered, slightly breathless. "Do you like my present?"
He scrambled out of bed, suddenly frantic and graceless in a way he never, ever was. His knees hit the ground and his hands cupped your face, glowing eyes roving over your face like he had never seen it before. Had never seen you like this before.
"You killed an old god for me," he whispered, his voice on the verge something reverent and awed as he gave off an air of power so much deeper and larger that his previous presence would have looked pitiful in comparison.
"You wanted to be free, right?" you asked quietly and when you smiled at him, you knew you still had his blood-red lipstick on your lips from kissing him previously. You knew it was dark enough with only moonlight in the room that it must've looked like real blood.
He laughed and it was half relief and half astonishment and then he was kissing you, fiercer and deeper than ever before. It felt like he was trying to pour the power you had gifted him into you, filling your veins the way you had filled his.
"I devote myself to you," he said breathlessly between kisses, each one as fierce and consuming and gifting as the last. "My soul, in light and darkness, shall be yours until my dying day."
You could only kiss back just as fiercely, gripping his hips and pulling him closer as he climbed into your lap, leaning over you and kissing you and kissing you until you felt drunk on it and his power.
"Move in with me," he whispered against your lips. "You're already a part of this place. The Revelry loves you. I love you."
"Let's adopt a cat," you whispered back and he laughed, sounding half delirious and delighted enough that it wouldn't have surprised you to hear him shout from the rooftops in a moment.
"A beautiful idea," he said, eyes glowing and blood-red grin just as dangerous as ever, his teeth looking even sharper than before. "I love you."
You couldn't help but grin back. "Neat."
He laughed, wild and free, wrapping his arms tightly around you and swaying back and forth a bit, his weight heavy and grounding and warm in your lap until the last of the unnatural chill was chased from your bones. 
Then he held and kissed you until he got his newly gained power under control and someone knocked on the door.
It were his hunters and for the first time they had taken off their masks, glowing eyes staring at the two of you with barely contained hope and wonder.
"We're free," Quin said, still in your lap and his grin was delightfully wild and on the edge of unhinged. "You are free to stay or go and never again will you be trapped in a contract."
It didn't surprise you when they stayed, fists pressed over hearts and fealty offered but not demanded. Given, not owned. 
"Marevlous," Quin said when they left again, pressing kisses against your face, leaving smears of blood red behind. "Precious, crafty, devious, mine."
You gripped his hips. "And you're mine."
"Until the end of time," he promised, hands still cradling your face and he pressed your foreheads together. His voice grew quieter, intense, a promise he would have never given that old god, no matter its demands, "For this life and all that follow, until this world crumbles to dust and all the stars have died."
A promise better than any wedding vow you could have asked for. "In each one I will find you," you answered his promise, feeling him press even closer, heat and weight and danger and power. "My soul will always recognize yours."
"Thank you," he whispered, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. "Thank you, for this gift and for trusting me when you met me. For never shying from me when others didn't even dare to look me in the eye. For giving me everything I ever wanted. For loving me."
You smiled and hugged him back tightly. He already knew that he had given you everything you could have asked for the night he killed for you. All without asking for anything. Without ever taking anything from you.
He had set you free from more than a lethal marriage contract. And now that he had shucked his shackles to an old god, now that he was free and still very much not human, you felt like everything was complete.
You couldn't wait to get that cat and to wake up to love and blood-red smiles for the rest of your life.
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whysoblue2 · 2 months ago
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Chapter 12: The Doctor's Advice
This chapter immediately follows the events of Chapter 5: Leshy's Kitchen Nightmare! WOOOOOO! We are back to the present timeline! Now that you know Tharen, Leshy and the family's dynamic is time to get to the DAAAAATE! And guess who he is going to go to for advice?
Hope you'll enjoy reading (as I did writing, there is no angst, only fun!)
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mithrilwren · 4 months ago
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Fandom: One Piece (Anime & Manga) Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Sanji Word Count: 13,970 Tags: Pre-Relationship, There Was Only One Bed, (technically there are a lot of beds but Sanji and Zoro are stubborn dumbasses), Huddling For Warmth, Roronoa Zoro and Sanji Bickering, Light Angst, Self-Esteem Issues, Childhood Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved Vinsmoke Sanji, Soft Roronoa Zoro, (or at least softer than usual), (firm-foam-padding-levels-of-softness Roronoa Zoro), Perona And Roronoa Zoro Are like Siblings, Whole Cake Island Arc Spoilers
During what was supposed to be a quick rendezvous on Kuraigana Island, an unexpected storm forces the Straw Hats to spend the night in Mihawk’s castle. There are plenty of beds to go around, but somehow Sanji and Zoro still end up in the same one. Fighting and feelings ensue.
Or: Sanji unwittingly becomes a Gothic romance heroine, Mihawk’s attempts at gracious hosting backfire, and Zoro just wants to get some goddamn sleep.
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athousandbyeol · 9 months ago
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you fall from sky heights (and into my arms). [qian x yuan fanfic]
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"are you tired of me?" qian questions, crossing his arms, demanding an answer. yuan softens even more. his heart melts entirely to the floor, and he might need to wipe it clean again, but— "i can never get tired of you, ge," yuan confesses. it's always the truth.
or yuan and qian living the domestic husbands' lifestyle while being obnoxiously silly and annoying with each other (featuring lots of kisses and hugs and everything nice).
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le-panda-chocovore · 5 months ago
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At some point, Megumi probably walked into Toji and Shiu having sex on the couch.
"I'm never sitting on that thing ever again."
Toji burst out laughing and Shiu automatically answered "You shouldn't touch the kitchen counter either then." The look on Megumi's face worsened Toji's laugh. The boy was horrified.
"Where else did you two fucked ??" He didn't want to know, he really didn't. But he needed to. He had to know what part of the house he grew up in had been ruined by the unsatiable libido of those two sick freaks.
"The bathroom," Toji started, and the aghast noise Megumi made was priceless.
"Bedroom obviously," Shiu continued. The conversation seemed to amuse him. "The car too."
Megumi had been picked up from school by that car for years. He couldn't believe this. He felt betrayed, and dirty. As if his whole life has been a lie and he only now discovered the reality of his world.
He knew his father and his husband weren't prude and innocent, oh he knew it way too well. He remembered the first time he had asked about the bite marks on his father's shoulder, worried that the man had been hurt by a curse. He also remembered when he found the handcuffs in their room while looking for an administrative paper he had given his dad a few days prior. And they talked about sex. A lot. With little to no consideration for the literal teenager that lived in that house with them, who certainly didn't have to learn that his father likes the taste of Shiu's cock.
So yeah, Megumi knew they were a horny kinky shameless couple. But he couldn't imagine it would be that bad.
"Oh, and the entrance hall too," his father added with a thoughtful smirk. "The last one was reeaaaally good, by the way."
"The last one—" Megumi decided mid-sentence that he did not, in fact, need to know the details of how many times his father had fucked or been fucked, nor where did that happen. "You guys are disgusting."
Then a thought –a hateable disrupting but awfully plausible thought– crossed his mind. He stared at them carefully, and regretted his question before even the words went out of his mouth.
"Did you . . . Did you two ever have sex on my bed ?"
Both of the adults blinked at the same time. The three seconds before their answer were hands down the worst in all of Megumi's existence.
"Eh," Toji said.
"Hm," Shiu completed.
"Oh my gods," Megumi screamed.
He hadn't even put down his stuff since he came home, but he was already walking back to the door and grimaced when he put on his shoes in the place where he now knew they fucked in. He didn't stop when Shiu tried to explain that they were joking, nor when Toji joined him in the entrance hall to tell him that no, that never happened. Megumi didn't trust him. He didn't trust any of them. He should never have trusted them since the beginning. He opened the door and left without a word, because he already talked to them enough. He didn't want to do anything with them anymore.
"Where are you even going ?" Toji asked, but Megumi was already on the street.
They didn't try to run after him. They received a text a few hours later, while they were -again- fucking on the damn couch. "I'm sleeping at Itadori's place. Don't try to contact me." it said. They let him be, not really worried about him.
Megumi stayed there for an entire month before finding the mental strength to finally put a foot into that house. The first thing he did was clean up the whole place with several products, and changing his sheets.
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