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devilish-mirage · 2 years

Text

Cute

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader

Summary; A boring night at the inventory with Steven somehow turned into a rather interesting row of events when you discovered just how easily flustered your co-worker really is.

Tags; Reader loved to tease Steven, idiots in love, mutual pining (sort of), suggestive theme, fluff, fluff, fluffy goodness!, Subby Steven and Dom Reader vibes, Marc and Jake as Steven best wingman, Donna cockblocking us, this fic used a lot of cheesy pick up lines

Word count; 2,4k

A/n; thank u as always for translating the Spanish sentences, bebé <3 @friendlyneighbourhood-parker

Masterlist

You huffed tiredly, silently celebrating when you scanned the last item in the box but then you caught the sight of another box not too far away from you, the box was full with unscanned items making you groaned in annoyance.

You sighed, deciding to take a quick break from that nauseous repeated motion. Propping your chin in the palm of your right hand, you shifted your eye sight to your co-worker who shared your unfortunate fate, Steven Grant who sit just a few feet away from you on another desk full of unscanned items.

The man's eyebrows furrowed every now and then when the old scanner doesn't work, you cringed when he dropped an item down, you saw him muttered something underneath his breath and picked the item back up.

He always come with messy hair and wrinkled mismatched shirt, today is no exceptions, as if he had no time to iron them properly. Did he not care about his image in the working environment? Well, you guess that's why he's always late.

You sometimes wondered why he's still working here. Donna, the manager of this section doesn't seem to like him at all and if you're being completely honest the pay is not that good either.

Truth be told he's a pretty passionate person if it came to tour guiding, you've seen him multiple times cosplaying as a tour guide, why didn't Donna gave him the part anyway?

He shifted his gaze towards you slowly as if he's afraid of getting caught but alas you caught him in the middle of the act, throwing him a lazy smirk making him quickly looked back down at the item on his hand, as if it was the most interesting thing in the room.

"Cute." You muttered, smiling widely as you watched him try to get a grip on himself. Placing both of your hand on the desk, you straighten your back, softly calling out for him, your voice rang through the empty room loudly.

"Hey, Steven?"

He looked back up immediately, shouting his answer, "Yes!" you saw him cringed at himself before he cleared his throat, "Y-yes?" he said again, quieter this time.

"Do you know what bees make?"

You felt yourself smiled at his confused face, "Honey?" he hesitantly say his answer making you grin wider at him.

"Yes, honey?"

You saw how his eyes went wide as saucers and he opened his mouth, stuttering the words but you didn't really cared about them right now, the only thing that mattered is how adorable he looked as he crumbled beneath your stare.

Stumbling and looking anywhere beside your face as his cheeks reddened at that simple sentence that you just said.

You really think he awoken something in you and you're not complaining. You felt the smile grew wider on your face. Oh, you'll know the days would fun from now on.

That was the first of many times you'll tease him with cheesy pick up lines.

"Hey, can I borrow a pen?"

You suddenly appeared behind him, smiling widely at his figure as he searched the item on his body, "I didn't bring any."

"How about a pencil?"

You said, he shook his head to the side softly, his eyes softened, frowning slightly at your direction. "That too, sorry."

You mirrored his frown, sighing softly before muttering, "Damn, then how could u draw my attention every single time?" out loud.

You looked up and met his eyes, you can't fight the smile from forming as he stood there, in silenced with his eyes wide open- like a deer in highlights.

He gulped, feeling himself getting nervous underneath your stare, he always find you to be so pretty and confident, it's intimidating.

"I- uh,"

He stuttered making you hummed softly at him, leaning closer so you could hear him better, not missing the way his breath hitched when you're just inches away from him.

"Go on, Steven. Let me hear you."

He couldn't said it, not when you're like that. The way his heart is beating so loudly reached his ears, he's afraid that you'll hear his rapid heartbeat.

"Nevermind,"

He muttered, looking down on his shoe as he held his breath, you smell so good but he doesn't want to feel like a creep.

"I think there's something wrong with my eyes," You suddenly said, without wasting a second he looked up again, eyes boring straight into yours.

"Are you alright? Do you need anything?!" he unconsciously leaned closer with a worried mixed with panicked expression, too busy worrying about you to notice how startled you looked at his action, he also didn't notice how the glint in your eyes slightly shine.

Oh? What's this?

"I can't take them off of you, Steven."

He shut his mouth before letting a breath out. You're just so- You almost had a heart attack when he suddenly looked back, facing his back at you.

"I- Is that Donna calling me? I gotta go!"

He looked back at you and nervously smiled at you, nodding his head repeatedly and stumbling his way to the back.

Your gaze didn't left his back until he's completely out of your sight, shaking your head softly while smiling.

"Cute."

Ever since that day you've noticed that Steven has been very busy. Donna did in fact called for him a few days ago, she assigned him a couple works to do, sadly you only share a few of them and you didn't want to admit it but you kinda miss that easily flustered coworker of yours.

Thankfully you just finished this week meeting, too busy staring at Steven to noticed that all of your co-workers has left the both of you on your own.

When you finally did realized, you caught yourself waltzed your way to him, smiling slightly as he focused on his notes instead of his suroundings, he always got lost in his own world, that's such a Steven thing to do.

"You should really try (Insert the name of your country here)'s foods."

That's the first thing that you said to him. He looked up, smiling softly at your direction as you stood next to him. It's been a few days since you've talked and he also share the same feeling as you did.

"Oh- of course, I've been meaning too. "

You nodded your head, looking ahead for a second before shifting your gaze towards him again, smiling as you said the word, "I have a recommendation."

"What is it?"

"It's-"

"Wait, Let me write it down, I don't want to forget it." he cut you off, looking down again to grab a pen and tried to find an empty page on his note.

You chuckled at his behavior, leaning slightly towards him, "Me."

The pen on his grasp halted, did you just said what he thought you did?

"Excuse me?"

You raised an eyebrow at him with an innocent expression, "I'm from (country)," stepping closer to him with each word that fell from your lips. "You could try me."

He unconsciously stepped backwards, his hands trying to grab anything that could help me calm down but he was met with a wall.

"But you're not food?"

He nervously smiled when he felt his back already hit the wall behind him, you hummed at him, letting your gaze fell to his lips for a moment.

"I don't know, why don't you try and find out?"

His breath hitched once you brushed your fingertips on his forehead, brushing away the hair that covered his face.

"Are you guys flirting again?"

You looked back and stare at Donna who already folded both of her hand in front of her chest with a deep frown painted her face.

"That could wait." She said, her voice was slightly louder and tinted with annoyance as if she knew you were about to mock her.

You smiled at her direction but let out a, "It really couldn't." under your breath.

She only motioned her head to the side, silently asking you to follow her.

"Bummer." You let out another breath, looking back to where Steven is. He stood there in all his awkwardness as he watched the two of you interacted.

"I'll see u in a bit, Steven."

You winked at him and turned your back, making your way to the door, you wouldn't let the teasing end of course, you purposely sway your hips to the side seductively.

You slightly turned your head and caught a glimpse of him checking you out, you giggled. He's really easy to read, such a cute fellow.

"All you have to do is flirt back, Steven."

"no es tan difícil, hermano." (It's not that hard, brother)

"It is, Jake!"

He suddenly shouted to the mirror, his face fell, immediately regretting his action the next second.

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head, "I'm just really nervous around her." he looked back up to stare at his alters, "I don't know what it is."

"Really?" his alters only raised their eyebrows at him, he could clearly heard their tone, it was lanced with a lot of sarcasm, "You really don't know?"

Steven bit his lips, gulping his saliva down as he thought to himself before saying the words that was on his mind, his thoughts about you.

"She's just that pretty, alright!" He finally admitted, "She's confident, kind, also she's very good with words."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah! She also smells really nice, I swear the way she smiles light up the room like how could someone look so-"

Steven suddenly stopped mid sentences, while both of his alters shared a knowing look to one another.

Oh, oh. The realization came to him and it hit him like a train, he looked at his alters who looked back at him with a teasing smirk plastered on their face.

"Did you finally get it?"

Steven only nodded his head without a word, too embarrassed to say anything, he palmed his forehead as he tried to hide his blush.

Steven strode inside the inventory in confidence, today's the day, today is the day he'll finally threw a pick up line at you and caught you off guard, he also planned to ask you out, he took a deep breath.

"Don't worry, we got your back."

"así es." (That's right)

He silently thanked his alters, sitting in his place, his gaze already fixated on your face.

You could felt your skin getting hot because how hard he's been staring at you.

"No pick up line today?"

He said making you let out a small laugh, shaking your head slightly to the side you said, "I have no pick up lines in mind because I only have you in my mind right now."

He nodded his head, nervously gripping his jacket before taking them off, it's getting pretty hot.

Gulping as he repeat the pick up line that he picked. You wouldn't know but he spend a lot of time arguing on which pick up line is the best.

"Um, y/n?"

"Hm?"

You hummed at him, not looking up and continued to scan the item in your hand.

"What's your last name?"

You raised an eyebrow at that, that's new.

"L/n," you said, putting the item down and finally meeting his eye, he could almost felt like he'll melt. "that's my last name."

"C-could you spell it for me?"

He cursed himself in his mind, how could he stuttered?

You didn't really pay any mind to it and spelled your last name for him, slowly letting the alphabets fall from your lips as you keep your eyes still at him who seem to be writing them down, you wonder what's it for though.

"It's kinda hard,"

You stood up, "Let me help you write-" already making your way to him before he cuts you off, "Wouldn't it be easier if you change it to Grant instead?"

"That's right, Steven!"

He heard both of his alter said at the same time, making him somehow proud, the feeling fill his chest as he looked up, a proud expression sits on his face but it quickly shifted to a panicked one when he realized you're staring him down with a smirk, both of your hands were on the table.

"Oh? Is that so?"

"Stay strong, hermano!" (brother)

"Keep your feet to the ground!"

"Y-yes,"

"Can I really have it, Steven?"

"Don't back down now!'

You leaned closer, lifting his chin with your fingers so he could looked up at you, you could see how his pupils dilated, "Hm?" that teasing smile of yours never leave your face as you leaned closer to him, your eyes fell to his lips.

"She's really cute from up close though."

His alter said making him furrowed his eyebrows when he heard them.

"Jake!"

That's Marc, Steven unconsciously nodded his head in agreement, Marc always has his back.

"What? You disagree?"

"No, you're right."

He almost fell, surprised that his only hope was agreeing to what Jake's said.

"She's really my type too."

"I might have her all for myself-"

Steven cut Marc's word, gulping as he braved himself to said them, "I can give it to you if you want." he can't lose you, no, especially not to this idiots.

"Hey!" they both said at the same time and Steven just outright ignored them.

You lift your eyebrow, tilting your head to the side.

He took a deep breath, looking at you directly, throwing all the anxiety and nervousness out the window, "Grant. My last name."

You let out a weak laugh that made him swore he almost fell down on his knees by the sound of it, it was heavenly.

"Y/n Grant,"

You hummed at him, placing your fingers on your chin as if you're thinking about it.

Steven could felt his heartbeat beating hard through his ribcage when he heard you said that, once again afraid you'll hear them. He knew you did though.

"I like the way it sounds."

Should he buy a ring on his way home? How many kids do you want? What should he name them-

"Wait, you're moving too fast, Steven!"

He blinked, Marc's right, you putting your first name and his last name together was making him imagining things far in the future.

"Does that mean I could take you out for dinner?"

'That's a good start, right?' He thought to himself and he could hear his alters agreeing on the back of his mind.

You let out a giggle, "Yes, I would love to." smiling as you said the word you've always associates with Steven, "Cute."

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant #moon knight #marc spector #moon knight x reader #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley #steven grant x you #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight au #marvel moon knight #mcu moon knight #mira writes shts #moon knight fluff #steven grant fluff

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wri0thesley · 3 years

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morning person - nanami x fem reader (2.5k)

you just want to make his mornings pleasant.

(not sfw, cock-warming, dom/sub undertones, domestic, established relationship, afab reader with fem pronouns).

[a/n: haha me posting more self-indulgent nanami fic? u guessed it]

Nanami is more of a morning person than you, and you’ve adapted your routine to suit that.

He can be tired when he gets home from work – then, he bends world-weary with the weight of his profession and what he’s done in the day. You undo his tie for him and kiss his cheek and give him a half hour to decompress before the two of you work on dinner together (you had wanted to cook for him, at first; you’d learnt in the end that being able to cook for himself was something that Nanami cherished, and the two of you work in perfect tandem now).

But in the morning, his eyes are a little wider and brighter. His lips are a little more likely to curve than sag; his hands a little more . . . free. You’ve adapted your routine to roll out of bed before him so that you can make sure everything is perfect.

You spend a moment, always, to enjoy the sun-dappled light on his face – picking out sharp cheekbones, the sweep of his hair, the muscles in his broad shoulders that he keeps hidden beneath well-tailored shirts. And then you’re wrapping a robe about yourself, as quiet as a mouse; heading downstairs, fetching the morning paper where it lays on the kitsch welcome mat of your home. Standing before the cafetière, putting in a scoop of Nanami’s morning coffee--

You don’t notice the difference yourself, but Nanami does. He’s so exacting, so precise – it’s one of those things that you love about him. You flip through the newspaper as you wait for the coffee to prepare, folding it over to the financial section because you know that he’ll look for it straight away anyway.

“Good morning.” Nanami’s voice startles you from your task; you look up to see him, only half-dressed, his hair still sleep-tousled and his smile soft with that specific kind of gentleness you only ever see on people when they’ve had a pleasant night’s rest.

(It’s partly a smile of satisfaction, you know, and you also know exactly why he was so satisfied last night. Not that you need to be thinking of that kind of thing so early in the morning--)

Not thinking about that specific thing only makes the memory of being pinned beneath him all the more potent, and you bite your lip and squeeze your thighs together as you turn to pour the coffee into his cup proper.

“Good morning,” you reply, wondering if he can hear the slight rush of breath that you try to hide. “This’ll be ready in just a sec’.”

Nanami moves across the kitchen, wrapping an arm around your waist. You can’t help but relax into the warmth of him, his embrace as familiar as the back of your hand. His shirt is half buttoned, shirt-sleeves pushed up to his elbows (his jacket is draped over the coat rack, along with his harness and weapon).

“You look beautiful this morning,” he murmurs, dropping a kiss onto the top of your head. You go all over hot at the words, heady with the rush of being loved by him. “Almost as beautiful as you did last night.”

“And you don’t need me to tell you that you look handsome,” you say, still breathless. You put the cup of coffee by his chair, beside the paper, Nanami’s arms still wrapped around you. He’s not always affectionate like this, but you suppose something about the warm morning and the air today and last night’s escapades have made him more romantic than usual.

“Mm. Perhaps I’ll decide I like hearing you say it?” It’s lightly teasing, his hand stroking your bare thigh below where the hem of the robe hits. “I definitely like coming into the kitchen to you in this.”

He lets you go now, taking the handle of his cup to take a sip of the coffee as he sits, leaving you flustered and blushing. His face, damn him, is perfectly impassive – not the face of someone who was holding their lover mere moments ago. You bring up a hand to feel how warm you are.

“I’ll get dressed once you leave,” you say, and Nanami raises his eyes from the financial section just long enough to quirk an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to,” he says. “I like you best in nothing at all, anyway.”

“Kento—”

Your voice is soft, scandalised – and more than a little bit needy. There’s a thread within it of wanting that Nanami doesn’t miss for a moment. You’re still very close to him; close enough to see that there’s a peculiar stiffness at the front of his trousers.

Oh . . . had he . . . woken up, with a problem? One that you hadn’t noticed? You suppose that you’ve been trying to get out of bed early to impress him recently, to have everything ready – but you didn’t think that you were far gone enough to not notice something like that. A curl of heat makes itself known low in your belly. If you’d known that was an option this morning, perhaps you wouldn’t have rushed around so much.

You inch even closer to him, so your breast presses against his shoulder. He raises a hand to lick his thumb, flicking to the next page of his newspaper. You wonder if he can hear your beating heart – it certainly seems to be the only thing you can hear right now.

“Did I forget something?” He asks, mildly – but there it is. A touch of danger. He knows that you know.

“No,” you breathe. Your hand comes to rest on his shoulder – his skin is hot beneath the linen. Fingers stroke over the shoulder, to where the collar of the shirt isn’t buttoned, the hollow of his throat. He leans back under your skittish touch, a soft noise escaping his mouth.

“You’ll distract me,” he chides. He’s done a pretty good job of that on you already. He focuses his eyes on the paper again, as you guiltily move your hand away. You watch him swallow, the bob of his throat entrancing. Lip caught between your teeth, you sink to your knees. “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

The soft pet name makes you feel weak and warm inside, like your insides are all liquids. You raise a hand to rest on his knee, to move towards the zip of his work trousers. He sighs, clicking his tongue against his teeth as if he didn’t instigate this whole thing himself.

He says your name like a reprimand coated in hunger. He isn’t fooling anyone – not when the heat of his cock is pressing so snug. You shuffle slightly (glad that yours and his cleaning schedule means that the cool tile beneath your knees is spotless), pressing your cheek against his crotch, nuzzling into it.

You catch him by surprise, a hiss of breath through gritted teeth. You look up at him only to see that his eyes have focused sharp on you, his lips wet. You want to kiss him.

“Can I help you?” You ask, through a throat thick with arousal. It’s a marvel you can form words. When you woke up this morning, you did not expect to be so wet between your thighs and muddled in your brain before Nanami even left for work.

He puts the newspaper down on the kitchen table, relaxing his shoulders slightly, a sigh falling from his parted lips. One of his hands comes to rest gently on your head, fingers tangling in your hair. The heat of his palm (from his coffee, no doubt) resonates through you, mixing with the heat in your cheeks and your chest and your stomach to make you feel like you’re practically on fire with need.

“That depends,” he says. “on you.”

“You know I’ll do anything for you,” you say, and he shakes his head. His smile is almost sad, this time.

“That’s not something you should say to just anyone,” he murmurs. “That kind of pact has more power than you realise.”

“You’re not just anyone. Kento,” you repeat, a little more petulant, and he sighs again. “Please?”

“Please what?” A little hidden curve to his smile. He’s teasing you. He wants you to use your words.

“Please can I help you with this?” You rub your cheek against his crotch again, catching him off-guard – his cock stirs, twitching against the softness of your skin even between two layers. His hand flexes where it rests on your head.

He pretends to think about it. All the while, you’re wetting your lips, squirming, pressing your thighs together with ill-disguised hunger. If he says yes, and you use your mouth on him, you know that he’ll see to it you don’t get left without – Nanami Kento is an efficient man above all else – but that doesn’t help the fact that right now, your skin is prickling with the demand to be touched.

“Alright,” he says. Eagerly, you reach for the zip, tugging it down, leaning your mouth close-- “But not like that.”

“Hm?” You pause, tipping your head up, your eyes meeting his. He motions for you to stand up. Though you don’t quite understand, you do it anyway, watching with wide eyes as he frees his own cock from the confines of his underwear and trousers, giving it a cursory pump--

You can’t drag your eyes away from it. Nanami isn’t exactly the kind of man people see on the street and expect to be packing something like that, but . . . oh, you know from experience exactly how well it fills you up. The head of his cock is swollen pink, precome beading at the tip as he rubs his thumb over the slit. He sighs again, shuddering into his own grip.

“Are you just going to look at it?” He asks you, mildly, raising an eyebrow as you. His big hands settle around your upper thighs, pulling you just a bit closer. Heat radiates off of him; you think that if he pulled his hands away, you’d have handprints in the shape of him all over you. (You think you’d like that; looking down at yourself and knowing you belong to him utterly and completely).

One hand drags up, leaving trails of fire behind – pulling the hem of both your nightgown and your robe, higher and higher--

He clicks his tongue.

“Did you forget to put on underwear this morning?” He asks you, dragging a finger over your thigh and through the valley between your legs, your slick gathering on the tip of it and shining in the early morning light of the kitchen. “Or were you just hoping that something like this would happen?”

Your cheeks seem to get even hotter. You just didn’t see the point in putting it on before getting dressed, honestly – but as Nanami lifts his finger to his mouth, savouring the taste of your arousal just as much as he savours the taste of his morning coffee, you can’t make your brain work quickly enough to defend yourself.

And perhaps you sometimes think about him coming into the kitchen in a morning and fucking you hard over the kitchen table. When he looks so handsome half-awake and rumpled, who could really blame you for that?

He pats his knee.

“Come on,” he urges. “If you want to help me, there’s a seat at the table right here for you.”

You swallow but move forward, spreading your legs – straddling Nanami’s thighs. He adjusts his cock so it rubs across your folds, teasing your heated clit for just a moment before it catches on your entrance. Your hands cling to his shoulders, nails digging in as you ease yourself down past the plunging stiffness of him. You let out a shaky breath as he hilts within you, the stretch at once wonderful and aching so early in the morning and after last night’s vigorous activities.

You hadn’t realised how badly you could want somebody inside you until you’d met Nanami; you hadn’t realised how empty you could feel when they weren’t.

You adjust yourself, resting on the balls of your feet, ready to begin vigorously fucking yourself on Nanami’s cock, when the blond takes hold of your hip and forcibly presses you back down.

“Stay still,” he says, off-hand. He reaches around you to pick up his coffee, taking a slow sip of the dark liquid. You make a soft, confused noise, and he glances at you.

“You were being a brat,” he explains, as if the whole reason you were being a brat isn’t down to him. “I thought this would kill two birds with one stone.”

He picks up his newspaper with the other hand, holding it at such an angle that he can still read every line. Something about the way that he bends to hold the paper in particular makes his cock stroke a particular spot inside of you that has you seeing stars, and you bury your head in the crook of his neck, breathing deeply.

“It’s all about efficiency with you,” you mumble, and you think you hear him make a soft snort of laughter – you can’t quite tell, because he’s turning the page and his cock is rubbing against you in that way again, your mind bursting into stars. You’re disappointed when he stops, the little flame of heat inside you that was threatening to burst into a fire dampened down.

“Stop squirming,” he says, unconcerned by your mumbles. He smells like freshly baked bread and bourbon and crisply pressed laundry, and you breathe it in, dizzied by how much you love him. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

“C-can it be that interesting?” You ask him. “M-maybe you should tell me what you’re reading--”

Inside, you think that perhaps Nanami’s boring financial times pages will make the hunger in you, licking up at you like all-consuming flames, tamper down. He takes a deep breath, before speaking aloud some facts and figures that you don’t properly take in because all you can do is think about how deep his voice is, how it makes his whole body vibrate and rumble, how you like his voice most of all when he’s telling you what a good girl you are for him, how much he loves your body, how hot and tight and wet you are, how good you taste--

“You’re not listening, are you?”

The noise that comes out of you in reply is a whine. Nanami clicks his tongue again, stern, pretending to be disappointed in you though you just felt the twitch of his cock where it’s buried as deep inside you as it can possibly be.

“Be good,” he murmurs into your hair, pressing another kiss onto the top of your head. “And I’ll make sure that you get to come before I go to work.”

Your voice is wobbling.

“What if I’m . . . not good?”

Nanami pauses, weighing the question up. His voice is very soft when he finally replies, so deep that it makes your toes curl.

“You don’t really want to find out, do you?” He asks.

You kind of do.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #not sfw #nanami kento x you #nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #afab reader #fem pronouns #writing #jjk writing tag

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yandere--stuck · 3 years

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The god of sleep has no dreams of his own. When Hypnos sleeps, it grants him the opportunity of visiting those of others, drifting along as on a gentle river. It’s comforting. Shards and glimpses of lives that aren’t his own, of people and places that won’t ever mean the same to him, the visions indirectly threaded by his fingers. There are far too many dreams for him to make, which is why most aren’t. He brings them to sleep, and their bodies do most of the work.

Regardless, it is his domain. Every mortal needs to sleep, whether they like it or not, which makes him an inevitable part of their life. A third of every human’s day rests in his hands. As payment, all he wants to do is observe, to be in their company. (Hypnos likes humans. They don’t notice him in sleep, or worship him in their days, but he doesn’t mind. It’s easier to handle being ignored when it’s not their choice, when it’s impossible for them to notice him, rather than his mom’s cold eyes passing through him like he’s a sliver of mist.

At least when he’s among the dreams of the living, he’s less alone. There’s no judgement, but no praise either.) With how many mortals and dreams there are to go around, it’s rare for him to visit more than once. Though it’s much rarer for anyone to take note of him. Most people aren’t aware they’re dreaming while doing so, being swept along by their dreams instead of having control, but you’re not one of those. You’re blessed with lucidity, morphing bits and pieces of the experience as you go. Most importantly...

You see him. You laugh. “Well, I didn’t think I was lonely enough to make up some guy to keep me company… Guess you learn something new every day!”

In one motion, you pinch his chin between your fingers and pull his face towards yours. He lets out a surprised noise, at the fact you can touch him in the first place, and the movement itself. And it’s a high and squeaky sound, one that makes him want to curl up in his blanket and slip from this dream to the next. You make no comment on it, only smiling wider.

“Ooooh, your eyes are golden! So pretty… Glad my subconsciousness has good taste, at least.” You add the last part to yourself, laughing again.

You don’t think he’s real, just some made up character of your dream. It’s no surprise you aren’t aware that you can’t dream about someone you’ve never seen before. For now, he’s glad to have you believe that. It’d be more humiliating if you knew a god was making such a fool out of himself, heat rising to his face. His tongue is limp in his mouth. When was the last time someone called him pretty? Had anyone ever called him that, and touched him so carelessly? You save him from the burden of speaking up first.

“What’s your name? Do you have one?”

He hesitates. If you knew who he was, you wouldn’t treat him the same anymore. “I don’t! But, um-!“

Hypnos knows and accepts what others think of him, knows that he’s no good at his job or much else, but if there’s one thing he would excel in, it would be here. He straightens his back a bit from its usual slouch, the tips of his feet grazing the ground as he floats. “I’m here to make sure you’re going to have a grand old time, you know? I know aaaall about having fun in dreams! Why, you could call me an expert! At your service.”

He does this stupid little bow, and immediately regrets it. You laugh, but not at him, and people don’t usually find him this entertaining, he thinks, and if you keep this up, it will become one of his favourite sounds.

“Alright, mister dream expert,” You say with a grin. “What did you have in mind?”

He helps you float like he does, and assists you at conjuring up whatever idea pops into your brain. Hypnos expected you , but that’s not all you do. You try to ask him questions about himself, even if you supposedly don’t think he’s real, and you actually listen. And when you tell him about yourself in return, he does the same. It’s fun, he’s having a good time, and he’s disappointed when he’s jolted awake because of someone walking too close past him. He’ll have to apologise for suddenly disappearing next time. (Next time? Does he want there to be a next time?)

Hypnos makes a habit out of visiting you. You’re not always aware you’re asleep, sometimes your dreams are the same as any other human’s. He savours those days too, at the insights into your life it offers him. However, it’s most enjoyable when you look at him with bright eyes and talk to him, and laugh at things he says and joke around at this side. There’s a warm tightness in his chest around you, he’s happy, he is, but also impossibly nervous to mess up and have your smile turn into a sneer. It’s surprising you even still want to be around him, if past experience is anything to go by, he isn’t any good at not annoying people. But you’re different. You haven’t insulted him at any point, either! You must really be some blessing.

Hypnos thinks he likes you. A lot. He’s never thought of it before, whether this is allowed or not. Never considered the possibility of forming a close bond through dreams. Hypnos decides that it is, and who would he even ask, isn’t he the deity of sleep? He’ll make his own rules, number one being that it’s totally a-okay to have dream friends! That you visit and think about all the time and spend all your time thinking up new fun ideas for! And sometimes you scratch their name into the margins of your lists while zoning out! He’s getting off track. (And, well, this all seems more like a problem exclusive to him…) What he wants most is to have you down here with him, to touch you and feel something, to have you around while you’re awake and asleep.

But to do that... It would be an offense to all sacred rules to meddle directly with the path the Fates had set out for you. Perhaps they’ll have some mercy on him for being family. Either way, he’s going to falsify your cause of death in the records. He's tired of being a bystander in your life. Hypnos doubts whether you can even remember him when you wake up. He isn’t exhausted in his normal way however, it’s no tugging at his eyelids or yawns hidden behind an open palm. This hurts. It’s an ache, an empty hole beyond his ribs. Your warmth needs to fill it, he’s sure. He wouldn’t be able to stand and watch as your life blossomed, how you would inevitably love someone else, be happy and forget about him all together. (It’s unfair. He's never had anyone that wanted be anything of his. Not a friend, not family, not a lover. And now you’re here, the first to not see him as a disgrace, and now he should let himself be stopped by some old rules?) Because compared to what someone right there with you could give, what did he have to offer? If he believed everyone else, he had nothing of worth to give anyone. All he had was this love, what he thinks is love. But you laugh with him, you seem happy, and what he knows of human life is suffering. So many terrible deaths, so many unresolved emotions, so many wishes that never came to be.

Hypnos could save you from it all. You would never have to worry about anything again. But he knows how much humans fear death: It’s reflected so often in their worst nightmares, after all. The last thing he wants to do is scare you.. How surprised you’ll be at suddenly finding out he’s real, not just a figment of imagination!

He’s giddy. The two of you could have be together forever! (And if you didn’t love him back, why would you smile at him like that? Why did you always say you were happy to see him return? He has neither experience in friendships or relationships, but he shares those sentiments, so you must love him too. Otherwise… He doesn’t want to think about it .)

So he visits you. Hypnos floats above your bed, watching down upon you. He caresses your face as you rest, watching you through lidded eyes. You called him it first, but you’re pretty too. He doesn’t care about your hair being a mess, or the dried drool on your chin, or how you lay in a weird position, legs and blanket all tangled up. Your soft breaths are adorable, and he wants to coo at you, to make your face turn warm instead of his.

The thought of his brother seeing you and taking your soul makes him uncomfortable, he wants this vision of you to be only his.

Your eyes crack open with a little groan and before you have the chance to struggle or cry out, he presses a kiss against your forehead, forcing some of his raw power into your frail, mortal body.

It shouldn’t hurt. He asked. Your form was never meant to take godly powers, it’s too overwhelming, destroying you from within, and you go limp within a second. It’s like you fell asleep. A sleep so deep you will never awaken again. (i know hypnos doesn’t govern dreams his sons do but i had an Idea,, hope u enjoyed!!)

---

(THIS IS ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE OH MY GOSH!!!!! You're so talented, this is written so beautifully, it's amazing!!!!

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!! SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO POST!!! I've had a busy past few days ^^; I also hope it's okay that I had to edit it, or it'd be a big block of text, hehe. Thank you so much again!!!! 💚💚💚)

#yandere hypnos #hypnos x reader #yandere hades game x reader #hades game x reader #hades x reader #yandere hades game #hades game #yandere hades x reader #yandere hypnos x reader #yandere hades #yandere greek gods #yandere #long post #hades #submission

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ppersonna · 4 years

Text

half baked - pjm | m

baby we two distant strangers. i know you don't speak my language, but I love the way she's talking to me - love talk, wayv

↳ summary- park jimin gets a job at your bakery, and you can’t help but find yourself annoyingly attracted to the cocky man.

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- park jimin x reader

↳ word count- 5.2k

↳ genre- smut, fluff

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, lightly dom!jimin, sub!reader, slight enemies2lovers, sex in a kitchen, please god don’t fuck in a kitchen its a health code violation, spanking, nipple play, cum play, fingering

↳ a/n- ahHH!HHHHhhh!H! i blame this 100% on @wwilloww for merely putting the idea in my head and i had to take it and run with it. also thank you to @kimtaehyunq my babe/my loml for the amazing banner! i truly do not deserve u but ily so much. and thank you to @chimoona @ladyartemesia @xjoonchildx @taetaewonderland for being the best mf squad a lady could have and beta-ing this for me! i love you all so much! i hope you enjoy silly cocky jimin!

Two cups of flour, one and three quarters cup sugar, 2 cups of butter.

You know the recipes by heart. In fact, one might postulate that the recipes themselves are the sole contents of your heart.

You live and breathe baking. It is your solace and your truest love.

Which is why it is all nearly thrown into catastrophe when Park Jimin comes into the picture.

It starts on a rather busy day. You’re hard at work in the kitchen, prepping the finished products and presenting them in neat little boxes, when your best friend and co-owner of Wake ‘N Bake, Willow, lets out a frustrated squeal.. You turn your head to find her covered head to toe in flour, making you snort as she shoots you a playfully ominous glare.

“Shut up,” she sniffs as she attempts to pat some fine dust off of her, to no avail. “I only have two hands and about fifty things to do with them at the same time.”

Your lips part to reply something equally sassy when the bell over the front door rings, notifying you of a paying customer. Grabbing a towel, you quickly wipe off cookie debris and throw it at your best friend to do her best to clean off as she follows behind you.

You pause as you take stock of who stands there. A handsome man arrives at the cash register and peers around, presumably looking for an employee. He is gorgeous—ethereal even and looks like someone who walked out of the pages of a magazine. His bone structure screams model, and you can’t help but feel the stirrings of desire for the beautiful stranger.

“Hi! Welcome to Wake ‘N Bake!” Willow sings cheerfully, despite being coated in baking flour.

The man eyes her with a glint of humor in his eye, and Willow’s cheeks turn a hue of pink when she remembers her current appearance.

“Hi,” he speaks. His voice is smooth like butter, and gentle. It makes you feel weak, like you’re warming in the very ovens that your pastries rise in.

“I saw your shop from down the street and I had to stop in. Your desserts look amazing. Is the owner here by chance?”

Your smile fades as he looks around the room for someone else, someone beyond you and your best friend.

Of course.

No one believes that two young women could start and maintain their own business. Everyone assumes that some older, well-off man was at the helm while you and Willow toil for minimum wage.

Your arms cross over your body in clear displeasure.

“We are the owners.”

“Oh!” The man looks surprised but not put off. “Awesome. I was hoping I could… talk to you about, err—… a job?”

His face is sheepish and Willow nearly coos at the sight.

Unfortunately, it appears you and your best friend have warring ideas.

“Yes!” She chimes at the same moment you dead-pan a resounding ‘No’.

Your heads spin to stare at each other—Willow’s eyes wide in disbelief and yours in annoyance.

“We need the help!” She huffs.

“We can do things on our own, like we always have,” you remind her.

Willow gestures to her flour covered clothing in desperation.

“We clearly could use help with how successful we have gotten!”

To your chagrin, she has a point. It might be nice to have someone to help in the front while the two of you manage the kitchen in the back. It would increase your productivity by double what you’re able to do now.

But there’s something about his attitude coming in that rubs you the wrong way. Like, he’s too pretty. Too confident. Too nice.

“What’s your baking experience?” You ask as you turn back to the hopelessly lost, yet ever eager man.

“Oh, err—,” he stutters. “I worked at my friend Jin’s restaurant. That served desserts, too?”

You shake your head in disdain while Willow claps her hands in excitement, a puff of white flour dust pluming into the air.

“Perfect! So you could do sales!?”

“Yeah! I can do sales, no problem.”

You turn your gaze back to Willow who stares at the man like he is her knight in shining armor.

“Willow?! Can I talk to you in the back?”

She knows that tone—the one that tells her you’re not pleased with her decisions. She nods once and politely excuses the both of you from the man before heading back towards the kitchen.

“What in the world is wrong with you?!” She asks the moment the swinging door closed.

“Me?!” You’re incredulous—hands flying in the air. “You’re over here trying to hire the first Joey Hot-Lips who walks in off the street!”

Willow’s anguished face falls and turns into a devilish smirk as she leans back on her heels.

“Aha! You’re attracted to him,” she notes as if she figured out the world's greatest mystery. “That’s why you don’t want him here.”

“What? No!” Your defense crumbles around you. “Did you hear him? He totally acted like he didn’t believe we could be the owners!”

“Oh, come on, that was a simple mistake and you know it! You’re just being protective.”

You ‘humph’ a non-committal response—unable to argue.

You are protective of your bakery. It’s your combined love child with Willow. What started as a dream between cocktails with your best friend became a real brick and mortar reality. You had been through enough trying to open it you can’t help but feel skeptical of anyone trying to get involved. Many tried to discredit your ability to maintain such a successful shop, and you’d rather continue to run it with no one else than see it fall at the hands of another.

“Just as I thought,” Willow hums. “In that case, he’s hired!”

You’re given no chance to reply—the flour-covered girl pushes through the swinging doors and announces to the handsome man that he’s hired and free to start the following day.

“Great! Thanks!” His smile is sincere—blinding and breathtaking, and you hate how much you want to see that smile again.

He leaves as quickly as he arrived, waving goodbye as he exits the chiming door.

“Now, you need to deal with whatever issues you have about letting others into the shop,” she says pointedly, pushing a finger into your arm gently. “And whatever issues you have with wanting to bone him.”

“Willow!” You gasp. “I do not want to bone him!”

“Sure, babe. You think you can fool me but I know you too well. Just try not to fuck him in the kitchen, alright? I don’t need the health inspector up our ass.”

The next early morning starts at 4:30 am, with you elbow deep in cookie dough for a catering order. You’ve nearly forgotten about the new employee starting until the man himself strolls into the back kitchen as if he’s worked there for years.

“Hey!” He says cheerfully, two cups of coffee in his hands. “I got you a coffee. Willow said you’re a nightmare without some in the morning.”

Your eyes narrow at the man. It’s unfair how delicious he looked so early; while you look like a frizzy mess who rolled out of bed and walked into work (which you did), he looked polished and crisp and clean. It’s infuriating as much as it’s glaringly attractive.

“Thanks,” you mutter as you pick cookie dough off your hands and pull off your plastic sanitary gloves. “Every girl loves hearing she’s a nightmare.”

He chuckles behind his steaming cup and places yours on the workbench next to you.

“Those were her words, of course. I’d never call you a nightmare.”

You easily flush, then chastise yourself for allowing him to make you feel so weak so early in the morning.

“To be fair,” he continues. “I don’t even know your name.”

“___,” you sigh as you grab the coffee and bring it to your lips. “And you?”

“Jimin. Park Jimin.”

The first sip of coffee is like a soothing hug. He somehow knew how you took your coffee—two creams and two sugars.

“I didn’t know how you liked it, so I just guessed.”

“Good guess.”

Jimin smirks and looks proud of his accomplishment.

“You seem like the type of girl who likes balance to her sweetness.”

You stare at him curiously over your own steaming paper cup, unsure of what to make of his comment.

“Good morning to the love of my life!” Comes the voice of your best friend entering through the back door.

You roll your eyes in amusement as she teeters in, peppy and perky as she always is this early.

“Oh! Hi, Jimin.” Her cheeks turn a familiar shade of rose as she realizes he heard her. “I didn’t know you were here yet. That’s just a… thing we say to each other every morning.”

“Cute.” Jimin smirks at you, making your stomach lift with unwanted butterflies. “Where do you want me?”

Underneath you, beside you, above you, any possibly way...

You shake your head quickly to push away the sexual thoughts of the gorgeous man taking you from any position. No, you refuse to let your mind wander there.

Willow finishes washing her hands and putting on her apron before she nods to the fridge.

“If you can get the milk, eggs, and butter out, we’ll use you for creaming.”

Your cheeks heat impossibly as Jimin smirks even wider.

“Oh, I’m fantastic at creaming.”

Your hands pause from where they massage dough while you close your eyes and breathe, before lifting to glare at your best friend who wears a faux-innocent look.

“I’m sure you are, Jimin,” she chimes virtuously, before getting to work.

The next few weeks were a haze. You’re so caught up with graduations, birthdays, weddings and major events that your time spent at the shop overtakes your time sleeping, breathing, existing in any way that isn’t baking.

Even Jimin was busy. Despite your initial hesitancy, he was proving to be an excellent third member of your team. He’s a pro at sales—you’re sure his good looks and the mostly female clientele helps—and he pitches in in the kitchen without fail. He even tries his hand at decorating cakes, with only one frosting-based spill. You would never give Willow the satisfaction of telling her outright, but she made an excellent decision in hiring the dazzling man.

But it doesn’t stop your annoying heart from fluttering every time he comes close to you—rubs elbows as he helps you roll out dough or smiles at you from across the workbench as he stamps out sugar cookies. You refuse to allow yourself any thoughts on what it would taste like to lick dough off his fingers or how he would look bending you over the countertop to take you from behind.

You only allow such thoughts at night, safely tucked into bed with your vibrator cranked to the highest setting.

It doesn’t help that Jimin solidifies himself in your life by introducing his handsome and dopey best friend Jungkook to your gorgeous and clumsy best friend Willow. The moment they laid eyes on each other, you knew you were doomed to have Jimin in your life with or without the bakery.

And you weren’t sure how to handle that notion.

Was Jimin flirting with you simply because you were there? He seemed to have no problem flirting with the customers. Sure, the shop has never made more money than when Jimin works his charms and seduces women of all ages to buy the extra cookies, cannolis, and cakes—not that you watched or glared or hated every second. No, of course not. It was for the good of your business and the angry jealousy demon inside you would need to stay firmly locked away.

Except, it’s on a particularly crowded day at the shop that your jealousy gets the best of you.

You’re up front assisting Jimin by boxing and bagging the treats he rings up.

You know he’s flirtatious, but it’s when he goes the extra mile for an extra pretty girl that you lose your cool on him the moment the customers leave.

“Do you have to eye-fuck every single co-ed that walks in this place?!”

Your hands fly up in frustration, and Jimin watches you with a soft gaze.

His silence and knowing smirk makes you continue.

“Seriously? What the fuck was that about?! You’re acting like you’re about to bend her over right here in front of us! Jesus!”

Willow hears the commotion from the back and comes forward.

“What’s going on here?” She asks suspiciously.

You point towards Jimin who maintains his poised demeanor.

“I’m reminding Jimin that work is not a place to sexually engage our customers!”

Willow rolls her eyes as she pulls her apron off and grabs her coat from the hook.

“Whatever, you’re being ridiculous. Jimin’s never been inappropriate. Plus, he’s making us a fuck-ton of money,” she sighs. “You two can close up without killing each other right?” She eyes you in particular.

You cross your arms and huff, glancing at the clock to find you have two hours still until closing. “Why? Where are you going?”

Willow’s annoyance fades away as if it never existed.

“Jungkook is taking me to the Museum of the Printing Press!”

You can’t help but choke a laugh while she pushes your arm.

“Shush! You know how much I love them! And he totally surprised me with tickets!”

Willow can’t shake that lovesick look in her eyes and your heart melts a little. She’s your best friend and you’re thrilled she’s found someone who wants to indulge her in her nerdy fascinations.

“Go have fun, babe,” you smile sincerely. “We can take care of closing. Now, go fuck on a letterpress or whatever!”

Willow snorts and hugs you tight, bids goodbye to Jimin, and exits the store.

Now that your quick anger is gone, you feel sheepish around the man who has yet to reply to your tirade—but you refuse to stick around under his piercing gaze.

“I’ll be in the back,” you mumble under your breath before slipping into the kitchen before he can get any word in edge wise.

You spend the rest of the evening monologuing an apology as you prep ingredients for the next morning and clean your workstations. The shop is closed, doors locked, and Jimin is somewhere at the front of the house finishing his duties.

“‘Hey, I’m sorry for the way I acted’,” you practice out loud. “Hm—no, not humble enough. ‘Hey Jimin, I was a real bitch’, too degrading? Maybe something like, ‘Hey Chim, can I call you Chim? That was fucked up, wasn’t it? Haha.’ God!” You throw your rag down in a huff, frustrated at your inability to form a decent apology.

“You can call me Chim, if you want,” a voice speaks from behind you.

You squeak in surprise and turn around, clutching your apron in your hands as you find Jimin leaning against a wall with a smirk on his face.

“Only my closest friends call me Chim, but I think we’re close enough.”

You swallow hard and nibble at your lip.

“I’m assuming you heard that whole… thing,” you mumble anxiously. His nod confirms that he heard your entire play-by-play of the apology you would deliver to the handsome man.

“Yeah,” he licks at his lips. “You know, you’re really cute when you’re jealous.”

“J-jealous?” You nearly trip over your own tongue. “I wasn’t—, I’m not jealous!”

Jimin begins a slow approach towards you, striding as he keeps his sparkling eyes on yours.

“Oh?” He quirks his head, making his soft hair fall into his face. You desperately want to push it away, cup his cheek, kiss those ridiculously plump lips.

He can tell you’re staring at this mouth and it makes his smirk turn nearly feral.

“So, you weren’t jealous? Not a single bit?”

He inches closer and you can feel your heart tighten in your chest and your stomach twists in on itself in excitement, in nerves.

“N-no,” you whisper, unconvincingly.

“You didn’t want to be the one I was making eyes at? The one who ‘gets bent over the counter’ as you said?”

“I—,” Jimin cuts your words short as he stands a breath away from you.

“I guess if you weren’t jealous, then I don’t have to tell you you’re the one I really want to bend over the counter.”

You’re sure your heart stops beating—positive that it will fall from its place in your ribs into your feet.

“What?”

Jimin cups a hand to your cheek and smiles as he steps even closer.

“If you’re not jealous, then I don’t have to reassure you you’ve got nothing to be jealous over.”

Your lips run dry, throat parched as if you’ve never had a sip of water. Jimin is standing so close to you you can feel the heat coming off of him in waves.

“Jimin—,” you breathe and he continues forward until he presses you against the countertop and crowding you into the metal and wood.

“Tell me you were jealous.”

You gulp, eyes seeking his for an answer, for any information. Is he playing you? Does he know you’re hopelessly attracted to him? Does he find it humorous to tease you when Willow isn’t here to insert herself into your flirting.

“I was jealous,” you admit slowly. The words are hard to release, but once they do, the floodgates open. “I wanted to be the one you flirted with. I was jealous because I want to be the one you notice.”

Jimin smirks, then pulls your face in quickly for a heated kiss.

His lips are just as plush, just as soft as you imagined. They’re puffy and sweet and he tastes like one of the treacle tarts you made that morning. He must have had one with lunch, and you find yourself addicted to the way he tastes with your creations on him. You wonder what he’d taste like with your arousal coating that tender, plump mouth.

He bites at your own lip and tugs, chucking under his breath as you mewl your desire at the slight hint of pain.

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re angry like that,” he breathes as he presses his forehead to yours. “I nearly popped a boner while you were yelling at me. I could tell you were jealous, and it made me want you more.”

It’s hard to hear him speak so candidly—it makes you groan.

“Jimin—fuck,” you sigh. “I’ve been attracted to you since you walked into this goddamn place.”

He smirks and snags your lips up in another desperate, yet quick, kiss.

“I know. It’s why you didn’t want me to work here.”

You grumble after he pulls away, tired of the teasing and wanting nothing more than to stop talking and start doing.

“I didn’t like you because you assumed I wasn’t the owner.”

He smiles and rubs at your arms, a softer expression crossing his face.

“No, but I hoped you were.”

It’s silent for a moment and you let his words wash over you as he continues.

“I was attracted to your authority. I could tell you were important here somehow, just didn’t know in what way.”

You swallow your growing guilt. You had clocked Jimin entirely wrong.

“Jimin, I’m sorry,” you start.

“Hey, hey, I already heard your apology, remember?” He smiles. “Although, I could think of a great way to mend the wounds if you’re interested. No pressure.”

His soft smile becomes a devilish grin instantly and your body lights with instant arousal.

“What did you have in mind?”

His lips press to yours again and you nearly lose yourself completely in his embrace. Your arms circle his neck and he holds you tight at your waist, before pulling away from you, yet again.

“I happen to be very good at creaming, if you’ll recall.”

You can’t hold back a snort of laughter, that quickly gets covered by Jimin’s hot lips, one’s he will not pull away from you any time soon.

“You want to, right here?” You ask as he trails a hot line down your throat.

“Yeah, do you?”

You vaguely remember Willow’s threat of not fucking in the kitchen, but find you can’t seem to care an ounce.

“Fuck yeah, I do.”

Jimin needs to hear no more. He pulls you close and kisses you with the remaining amounts of pent-up passion and emotion he feels for you. He’s grown to love the way you take charge, the way you move through the building like you own the place—because you do. He loves the power you radiate and wants nothing more than to make you give up that power for a single night, to him.

“You wanna do this… all the way?” He asks, re-assuring himself that he’s not throwing himself at his boss.

“I want you, Jimin. I want you to bend me over this workbench and fuck me until I’m crying for more. Please.”

He grins and lays a hand on your neck, fingers tracing the gentle lines.

“I might not let you boss me around,” he warns.

“Take control.” Your eyes are blazing with need. It makes him smile, and he gives the moment a slight pause.

“Then, get on your knees and show me just how sorry you are for yelling at me.”

You’re sinking to your knees quicker than you can comprehend. Jimin is almost thrown at how instantly you caved and submitted to him. He watches as your eyes stay fixed on his and your hands work at the button of his tight jeans.

“That’s right,” he murmurs. “Right where you belong. No one else.”

You preen—heart warming at the idea that you’re the only one he wants kneeling before him and tugging his cock out of its confines.

It springs forward, and it pulls your gaze from Jimin’s magnetic eyes. It’s long and thick, just like you suspected all those nights with your vibrator stuffed where he should be. Your mouth waters at the sight and you lean towards it to mouth at it gently—pressing soft open-mouth kisses to the tip.

“Oh, shit,” Jimin gasps. Your fiery mouth feels like heaven on his cock. It’s something he’s equally dreamed about—spent many nights fisting his cock to the thought of you.

You take your time, licking tiny stripes around the head and down the shaft, until Jimin becomes weary of the teasing.

“Please, take it all.” His request is so genuine, so needy, that you’re loath to deny him.

He slips into your mouth with ease, slicked up just enough by your trailing kisses that he slides in and hits the back of your throat in seconds. His eyes close as he feels his cock-head hit the back of your throat—a tighter and more constricting feeling in your already impossibly tight mouth. It feels like absolute bliss, and he’s gasping for air after mere moments of you holding him inside your mouth to the hilt.

He doesn’t need to speak; you know what to do. Your mouth works him in and out, tongue swirling around any open real estate of his cock. His moans echo around the tile of the kitchen walls and he’s sure that the sight of you on your knees with his cock disappearing in and out of your mouth will have him cumming in no time.

He steels himself, makes his body behave because he wants to enjoy this and the way you feel. As good as your mouth feels, he’s desperate to know what it’s like to slide into that cunt he’s spent too many nights dreaming about.

“Oh, fuck,” he whines as you make delicious, slurping noises from the gathering saliva. It’s a wet squelching sound that makes him even harder than what he believes is possible—all blood in his head now completely rushed to his dick for his pleasure.

“B-Babe!” He calls as he feels his balls tightening. He doesn’t want to cum, not yet.

He grips your head by the scalp of your hair and pulls you off his cock that is seconds away from losing control.

“Please, I’ve got to fuck you,” he nearly begs.

You wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand and smirk, licking the tip of his cock teasingly before standing up to his full height.

Jimin’s hands fly to your expensive leggings that you insist on wearing to work while he kisses you. The kiss is feverish, frantic. It’s full of tongue and teeth and desperate moaning against each other as he pushes down the pants and delicate panties, and cups your cunt in one hand.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper against his mouth as the pad of his finger slides against your clit.

“You’re fucking soaked. All from sucking my cock?” He’s cocky and sucks a mark onto your neck as he massages the bundle of nerves.

“Don’t be arrogant now,” you warn with a smile.

He presses his tongue to your ear and licks a stripe and chuckles.

“I think you like it when I’m arrogant. Your pussy sure seems to like it.”

He emphasizes his words by slipping two fingers into your channel and fucks into you, scissoring you open. He cuts off any chance for you to retort by launching his lips back to yours and prowling around your mouth with his tongue.

His fingers are small but fill you so deeply, and you’re sure his hand is drenched with your arousal.

“J-Jimin, please,” you gasp as you pull your mouth away to breathe in deep. “Please, just fuck me already.”

He growls into your ear.

“I thought I told you you’re not in charge.”

He spins you easily until your back is pressed to his chest. He grabs the hem of your shirt and lifts, throwing the shirt away and quickly making work of your bra clasps to join the shirt on the floor.

His hands cup your full breasts and you can’t help but whimper at the feeling of his soft and warm hands. He feels so good against the chilled skin of your chest and he tweaks and thumbs your nipples until they stand perky and erect.

“I’ve always wanted to bend you over this counter,” he muses in your ear as he pulls a nipple harshly. It makes you squeak out at the pain, then moan as the pain turns into a sizzling, pleasurable spike that runs through your veins.

“Every time I would catch you staring at me, I just wanted to fuck your cute little throat until you were gagging around me.”

Your eyes close as he continues his abuse on your perky nipples and whispering his deepest thoughts about you.

“I wanted to lift your cute dresses and eat your cunt until you’re wailing loud enough all the customers can hear.”

“Jimin,” you nearly cry. “Please, fuck me.”

You can feel his hardness lining up behind you, rubbing at your sodden folds to cover his length in your slick juices.

“I like it when you beg.”

He kisses at the juncture of your neck before letting his teeth graze over the spot and bites down—right as he pushes your face down to the workbench and slides his cock into your spread heat.

He bottoms out easily. You’re soaking wet and he buries himself to the hilt in one fluid motion. He groans out loud—stunned by the heat and wetness of your pussy and how tight it grips him.

“Oh, holy shit,” he gasps as he gives himself and you a moment. His hands grip at your waist, one hand coming to rub the tender skin of your supple ass.

“Jimin, fuck, you’re so big,” you whine.

He brings his hand up, then slaps it down on your ass hard, hard enough that the crack echoes around the large kitchen. You cry out in delight, in pain, as the reverberation of the stinging wraps around you.

“Fuck, you take me so well, princess,” he whines as he sets a pace. Your ass meets his hips and claps with each thrust, and he punctuates every few pumps into you with another hard slap to your ass. He wants you screaming his name, crying out for him loud enough that the neighbors know who he is.

He’s relentless in his pumps—gripping your hips tight as he fucks you deep and senseless. Your eyes roll back into your head at how well he works your body. Your tits rub raw against the wood of the workbench and you’re weeping fat tears of pleasure as Jimin continues his plight.

“God, I’m gonna cum, baby,” he warns. “Cum on my cock, princess.”

You slide a hand down to your clit, eager to add the ultimate piece to what makes you unravel. He grins and pumps into you harder, slaps your ass repeatedly until he knows it’s going to leave bruises.

“That’s right, baby, rub that pretty little clit,” he urges. “God, I can’t wait until you you sit on my face and let me eat this fucking cunt for hours.”

You blubber a response of desire, nearly begging him for more and more, as you swirl your fingers around the tight bundle. You’re peaking towards the summit of your climax, ascending to a point you’ve never gone before.

“Fuck, Chim!” You scream. “Gonna cum!”

Your warning falls on deaf ears—you’re cumming and pulsating around his thickness instantly and Jimin moans mix with your own to create a symphony of pleasure.

“Good fucking girl,” he coos. “Your cunt is so good to me, baby. Mmph—let’s frost this cake, now.”

Instantly, he’s groaning as he pulls his cock free from the vice-grip of your cunt and jerks himself twice to completion, allowing his hot seed to splatter against the tender flesh of your ass where he’s left a clear print of his hand. The warmth soothes the battered skin and you shake your ass teasingly as he continues to stroke himself through his climax.

“Ohhhhh, my god,” he breathes as he finally comes down from his high.

Your face is resting on the cool surface of the wooden workbench as your breathing slowly settles back to normal.

“That was fucking good,” you whisper with a smile. Jimin bends down to press soft kisses to your spine, before grabbing a towel to gently clean his cum off your beaten ass.

“Willow’s going to kill you for fucking me in the kitchen,” he warns with a laugh as he kisses the same spot he came on.

“It takes two to bake a cake, buddy,” you tease.

He laughs and brings a hand down to your untouched asscheek, making you squeal with delight.

“That’s not how the saying goes, but sure, doll.”

The next morning, you’re hard at work making a five-tiered wedding cake with Willow at your side, when Jimin throws open the door.

“Good morning to the loves of my life!”

Willow chokes on her own air while you hide a giggle behind your cake covered hand.

Jimin approaches the pair of you while she splutters and gasps.

“What?” What happened last night after I left?”

Your cheeks heat and Jimin wears a face of pure cockiness.

“Oh my god,” Willow gasps as her eyes open wide, snapping your tender ass with her rag. “You did NOT fuck in my kitchen!”

taglist - @preciouschimine @nyamjinnie @unicornnomore @bangtansbun @theneighborhoodfangirl @cyberbunny21

#bts smut #bts jimin #bts park jimin #park jimin smut #bangtanarmynet #jimin smut #bts fluff #bts au #bts alternative universe #bts jimin smut #heartsforbtsnet #ficswithluv #bangtan smut #bangtan jimin #park jimin #bts imagines #bts fics

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kazuhasbunny · 3 years

Note

Giiiirl, imagine you are on Baal's side, you are a general and commanding an army against the rebels' own general, Gorou.

You are all cocky and confident, your years of experience just keeping you aware enough so you won't be consumed by your pride. But oh, your face, when after all of those carefully thought out strategies and intensive training, you end up losing to that mutt.

He is insufferable. Even though his face and body is caked in a mixture only war can give-- blood, sweat and dirt, his smile is the biggest, smuggest thing you have ever seen in your life as a warrior. It does not help that you are on your knees, back stretching forward as the grip he has on your jaw tugs you up with such a force you won't ever believe an archer, a long distance fighter, would posses. The bodies of both sides lay scattered on the defiled land, but the purple spots decorate the most, as his last men stand straight and proud behind him, just as yours do, but the lack the attentiveness. Their tired and bored countenance ticks you in a wrong way. Why they don't look happy by this result?

Does your failure was already predicted? As if this end was something that was already calculated. Taken in account.

The man holding your jaw in a bruising grip let go of you, a mere blink of respite as the next second your left cheek explodes in pain, your vision swaggers for a second as you fall on your right side from the streght of that blow. You shut your eyes and concentrate on your breathing; the fight left you completely drained, as much as your brain screamed at you to stand up and attack that man, your bones and muscles protested as you tensed in hopes of getting up, but ultimately you only made yourself look pitiful.

Gorou turns to were his men are, his gaze lingering for a second on your laughable attempt. His focus switches to the army as he starts to pace from one side to the other, the victory was already decided, but the energy from the feat itself brought a surge of emotions within him.

Another quick glance at you, and something on his mind switched. He was wondering what to do with you; killing you off felt as a meaningless action, as the Shogun won't care for someone as low as yourself. You only were deployed to fight against them to gain time for the real force, to prepare and learn how strong the rebels actually are. With how confident you looked hours ago, it seems that your benevolent Shogun forgot to grace you with such knowledge before sending you off with a bunch of newly trainees.

"First of all, congratulations, my friends, for this well earned victory" Gorou began. The group of men on front of him quickly acknowledge his words, paying attention to what he had to say.

"Even if the outcome resulted as to what we--" He turns around, your eyes opened when he began speaking. You both made eye contact, and Gorou's smirk transformed into a full smile. Was it okay for him to fill such giddiness at the sight of your equally wounded pride and body? After all, he was the one to bring you into that state, he was the one to put you in your rightful place with just one arrow, kneeling on the dirty battlefield as the geo power incased on the arrowhead did its job in petrify you.

The glint of defeat on, dare he say, those gorgeous eyes of yours really made them stand out. Actually, as he approaches your form, he's starting to see some other appealing features he couldn't notice from a longer distance. What was the Shogun thinking, in even allowing you a spot within her number when you clearly weren't made for war?

"--Expected" his pause brought your attention to what he was actually saying. So they had all of this calculated...

"But now, all that is left to do, is tend to the wounded and take care of the dead. Yours and their sacrifice will bring an end to this stupid decree in no time. We need to prepare for tougher, real..." He gives you a glance "...battles from now on. Don't let this win get in your head"

The crowd quietly cheers between them, some of them patting each other on the shoulder for a job well done. All of that camaraderie made your stomach hollow, as you recognise the same speech you have told to your former men after a battle well fought. Those piercing blue eyes of his made you painfully aware of the consecutive part of giving a victory speech, about what is waiting for the losing side, the pit in your stomach grew in size and you really wished that it could swallow you whole before the man in front of you does.

Gorou thrills in your despair. That pretty face of yours plunging into dark dephts, your mind weaving one horrifying destiny after other speaks a lot of your character, as only those who have layed a cruel end to those before them can conceive. He knows what kind of thoughts those are, but as much of a monster as you are viewing him now, he won't do such a thing. He was quite merciful while deciding what your fate will be, even if he didn't pondered a lot in the few minutes after your fall, you are but only a child with a weapon, sent to die by that horrible woman.

And something he prides himself of, is learning from mistakes. He won't throw away something that can fulfill very well other duties than warfare ones.

"Sir! If I may--" a voice spoke between the masses of helms and spears.

"I know, I know. The general" Gorou waves off his hand, his eyes never stranding away from your form for far too long.

A groan escapes your body as his foot steps on your ribcage, not too hard but your weak body sense as if he had nails attached to the sole, your skin felt cold and as if it was being prickled by a ton of needles. He pushes your your body with a gentleness unexpected from an enemy, until you were lying on your back. The new position put pressure in the arrow wound on your right/left shoulder, your dominant arm, and for a second you were grateful of the rigidness granted by the geo element yet covering half of your arm or else you are sure you would have cried in pain, the last thing you want now is to show more weakness that what you are displaying.

"What I am going to do with her... I didn't know myself when we first begun this battle" Gorou continued. He removed his shoe from your chest to your side on the floor, so you'll be cage between his legs while he looks down on you. His arms crossed across his chest and he tilted his head to the side, as in assessing you, taking on your face just as covered in grime as his but not diminish your beauty in the slightest. He really made a good decision in regard of your fate.

The soldiers stood still, the atmosphere felt heavy like the air on a hot summer afternoon that feels stuffy on your lungs as your breath in. Their general had an unseen aura surrounding him, his usual careless actitud makes everyone forget that there's an animal side to him, although they aren't sure they will presence it for the first time, their captain is definitely switching towards that side... they even feel a little bit of pity for the woman under him.

"But as I see her like this, beaten, it makes me remember something of old, that the victorous usually sow. Can you guys guess what it is?" He squats over you, sweetly combing a couple of strands of hair out of your face.

Whispers break among the army after the question. One of them raised his hand, no barely 18 years old as he was one of the shortest in comparison to his bigger and wider shouldered comrades. The young recruit promptly lowered his arm as the general wasn't looking at their direction but that didn't stopped him from answering, eyes shining with excitement:

"They take something as a token of their victory, sir!"

Gorou hummed in affirmation. "Yes, they did. A spoil of war, if you may"

Dread washed over you. He wasn't going to kill you, as a way to demonstrate their superiority? To be taken as a trophy, a possession... He surely won't mean that, right? They are going to torture you and extract every drop of information that you have, until the last thing left in you is blood to shed on their hands as your usefulness is cut short like your troath.

You needed to say something. Anything, as long as it would arise anger within the young male, anything as long as you aren't degrade far from what you have been.

Gorou raised his eyebrows as you coughed. He wasn't expecting a monologue from you but neither silence. Your sudden wish of speaking made the men jump into action, their spears pointing at you with such terrifying speed made you realise furthermore that this battle was destined to end like this, another stripe to the tiger just like a new blow to your pride.

"Just kill me already. I won't say anything, and if given the opportunity, I will end it myself" you spat. You tried to transmit all of your pain, hate and shame in one stare, you won't go happy until you make that man see what you feel, how big your abhorrence is to his being.

All the males stare in silence, until the general himself chuckled. Your cheeks burn with rage, your teeth clenched together as you tried yo surf this flare of emotions. How dare he laugh like that! He already won and you won't speak a thing about the Shogun, why acting like that? Isn't the rebels supposed to act with nobility and fairness?

Gorou took a breath in. He's happy he didn't went for the traditional route and killed you.

"Aw, now you just proved me correct, sweetheart. I'll enjoy making you into a proper wife"

All of that just to say "Imagine being taken as Gorou's prize and he makes you his whore wife" LMAO

(Also? In the part that reader coughs? I wanted to put that Gorou spits on your lips because you looked thirsty AODJFJDC)

THIS 🙏 yes i’d love to be gorou’s housewife he should really take me in and train me to obey him . please i’d do anything for him

AND pleasee omg ... if u actually put that in i’d die on my chair it’s too hot i can’t hjnhnggrh

#eli.replies #anon #AAAA #this is so good i #am at a loss of words

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bangtangalicious · 3 years

Text

the glow up | pjm (3)

pairing: jimin x reader

summary: after going off to college, you & your best friend committed to working out. a year later, the results show, and you cant wait for your hot hometown friends to see you. now all you wanna do is wild out and have lots of sex, and enjoy it without feeling insecure

genre: smut, childhoodfriends!au weightloss!au (is that a thing) friends-to-lovers!au

word count: 1.7k

warnings: dry humping, sleep sex/wet dream, feverishly rough sex, choking, technically dubcon but she was genuinely fine with it, slut shaming, cheating (?), basically jimin fucks you hard but he thinks he’s dreaming, creampie, unprotected sex

part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 masterlist

You woke up, the events of the morning seemingly like a world away. You became conscious suddenly to a warm presence snuggled up behind you. Jimin and you had talked for a while before returning to the party. You stayed back late helping him clean up until you both passed out from exhaustion.

The tension had been uncomfortable. Jimin decided not to bring up Taehyung’s outburst, and you too avoided the topic entirely. It was too confusing.

Jimin’s arms were wrapped around your hips tightly, his fingers gently stroking your stomach. He was totally knocked out, you could tell by the way he whimpered slightly when you tried to move. You sighed, trapped by him completely. You tried to wiggle your way out but as you shook your hips you felt something graze against your ass.

He was hard. Really hard.

Your eyes widened, unsure of what to do. It wasn’t his fault, you knew morning wood was a thing, and seeing how pressed up the two of you were, it was bound to happen. You tried to move again, but it only caused him to press even more into your soft flesh. A shaky breath left his lips at the contact. His hands loosened and slowly began sliding down your bikini bottom. You gasped.

“Jimin what are you doing” You hissed. No response was heard, all you felt was Jimin’s cock desperately prying for freedom from his trunks, now against your bare ass. He slowly rolled his hips, humming in pleasure. “Jimin. JIMIN.” He was still asleep, you realized.

You could move, but you knew if you moved now he would wake up, and then he would ask what happened. And you really didn’t want to have to deal with that. Or maybe. You liked the feeling.

You wondered what Jimin must be thinking about. Was it you he was fucking in his dreams? He had denied you earlier. Your heart dropped as you recalled his cruel comment about Taehyung having came in you, and that grossing him out so much he refused to have sex with you.

As you were lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize the way Jimin’s hands had found your breasts, pulling you back into him with all his strength. You moaned in surprise. The feeling of his hands, slightly dry from the day in the pool but so large, covering the entirety of your breast and clutching it as if he was holding on for dear life.

You could feel his heart pounding against you. You wiggled your ass against him, seeing if he would react. He let out a high pitched whine, which cause goosebumps to spread across you. He sounded hot. You felt yourself getting wetter.

Apparently so did Jimin, because his hips bucked into you, his bulge dancing past your entrance in a quick thrust. You squealed at the sensation. The fact that he was acting involuntarily, following nothing but instinct, turned you on beyond reason. You felt him exhale heavily, his hot breath tickling the nape of your neck. He bucked his hips again, harsher this time, whining incessantly.

You could feel how bad his cock wanted to tear through the fabric and feel you. He thrust again. Then again. Harder. And harder. His hands clutching your breasts more aggressively each time. You couldn’t help but scream. It felt so good. He was like a dog just humping you so aggressively in heat. You felt animalistic and you loved it. You pushed back into him more, spreading your legs so he could rut right where you craved him.

His pace quickened. If anyone had walked into the room at that moment, they would see Jimin, eyes shut and lips parted, humping into your ass like there was no tomorrow, and you, pretty much naked, a moaning mess with your eyes rolling back in bliss.

“Jimin” You exhaled, turning your head as much as you could to try to see him. “Fuck, Jimin baby you feel so good”

His face was blushed pink, sweat forming at his forehead. He groaned as you spread your legs even more, allowing your wetness to seep through the fabric of his shorts. He let out a low growl.

Suddenly his eyes flew open, but he didn't stop. He was completely gone, you could see it in his expression. He his were lustful, almost frightening. He met your eyes briefly, not even comprehending who you were or what was happening before he flipped you over and yanked down his trunks. He grabbed your neck with both of his hands as he shoved his cock inside of you without any warning. You screamed out, not expecting the large girth. You were luckily wet enough for him to get inside you without too much resistence, but the speed had you crying out.

“Jimin—“ You tried to choke out but Jimin’s grip on you tightened. He fucked himself into you harshly, groaning at the way your pussy clenched down on him. He lowered himself so his chest was flush against your back as he continued to roll his hips into you. He grazed his teeth across your jaw before sucking it harshly. “Holy fuck” You muttered under your breath.

His pace picked up relentlessly, as if it were even possible for him to fuck you faster. Each thrust was practically splitting you opn. You tried to spread wider but you physically couldn’t. You were ruined under him, and you loved it. You felt yourself teasing your own edge with his cock hitting you in all the right ways. You cried out, nodding your head like an idiot, knowing full well that Jimin did not know nor care what you were doing.

You came like an avalanche, your body twitched and writhed under Jimin. You felt like you were going to lose your voice with how loud you were screaming as his pistoling cock did not give you a second to breathe. You gushed against him, your slick cum making his thrusts even easier. Before you knew it you felt him shoot hot com through you as he let out a loud moan. He buried himself as far into you as he could, pushing your face up against the headboard as his hands practically stopped your breathing. You felt dizzy, but so so good. He recoiled, laying down on top of you then, the full weight of him crushing you.

“Jimin!” You shouted as your ribs felt weak under the pressure. He blinked a few times before he suddenly jumped off of you.

“Oh my god” He whispered, looking at you, with his cum messily dripping down your legs and on your ass. You turned slowly, the soreness beginning to catch up with you. “What the fuck happened”

You exhaled, laughing slightly, “You tell me”

He shook his head frantically, worry filling his eyes, “Oh my god y/n…fuck…no. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do this. I had no idea I…” His face reddened, “I thought I was dreaming”

You giggled, curling your finger and motioning him towards you. He obeyed, crawling into your embrace. He held you like you were a delicate piece of glass that he almost shattered.

“I know. You were wild”

“I didn’t fuck” His frustration was evident as you stroked his back calmly, “I didn’t want our first time to be like this”

“Yeah I mean, being conscious is definitely better” You joked. Jimin shook his head.

“I can’t believe my dick has just been where Taehyung’s has. EW” He shuddered, looking at you in horror. Your face dropped.

“W…what? That’s still your issue?”

Jimin sighed, stroking your hair, “Would you wanna suck my dick if I had it stuffed in someone else’s vagina the day before?”

You shrugged. You guessed you understood his perspective, but that didn’t make his words hurt less. Jimin kissed your cheek.

“Please don’t take it the wrong way baby. It was so good. You felt so good. And I want you so bad. But it’s…too soon. I still just can’t believe you’d just let someone so random touch you like that.”

You nodded, wanting to put the discussion to rest before you bit his head off in retaliation. You reached over for your phone, seeing a few missed messages.

tae: im so sorry princess

You chuckled, raising your eyebrows. Taehyung was the last person who needed to apologize here. You glanced at Jimin, who was also on his own phone, hand caressing your thigh absentmindedly.

y/n: don’t be sorry omg. wanna hang?

“Do you wanna grab lunch?” Jimin asked softly, without looking up, “There’s a new taco place that opened up near here. I know you love Mexican so”

Your heart clenched.

tae: yeah i can pick you up. u still at jimin’s?

“Jimin” Your voice wavered. You had never been so conflicted in your life. Jimin was amazing, you adored him. He knew you better than anyone else and was so so sweet. But somehow this whole sex thing was making you question your willingness to redefine your relationship into something more. You weren’t sure if it was because of how amazing it felt to fuck Taehyung, or because Jimin was being an unapologetic little bitch about your promiscuity. “I think I need some space”

y/n: yeah, sounds good. b out in a few

He turned quickly, his eyes sad. You hated that you even had to have this conversation at all, “I just need some time to myself to figure stuff out. I’m not leaving you, I’ll come back. I’m just not sure if I wanna jump into this right now”

His eyes darkened and he pursed his lips. “Oh, okay” He faked a smile and kissed your nose again, lingering. “Just text me okay. Whenever. Whenever you’re done…doing what you need to do” You nodded. You got dressed and Jimin gave you some clothes. As you walked out the door his grabbed your wrist lightly.

“Y/n” His eyes were watery, “I’m still here for you okay. Please…” He inhaled sharply, “Don’t leave me”

You gave him a small smile, “I won’t Jimin”

“Promise?”

You swallowed your guilt and nodded. You walked out to the street and looked at your phone.

tae: i’m down the curb. same car.

You grinned, turned and waved one last time to Jimin, before walking away, your fingers excitedly tapping your phone.

<-----previous next----->

A/N: ~sips water~

taglist: (lmk if you wanna be added!!) @honeyspillings @hollowtree10

#jimin smut #park jimin smut #bangtansmutcentral #btssmut #btssmutcentral #btssmutrecs #smutcentralnet #btssmutcentralnet #bagntansmutcentralnet #jimin x reader #jimin scenario #jimin pwp #bts smut #jiminsmut #bangtansmut #jimin fic

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citydreamgrls · 4 years

Text

they were roommates - part one

a weasley twins x fem!reader fic

summary: she had nowhere to go, fleeing home to pursue something along the lines of freedom, so being welcomed into the entrepreneurial twins life was a whole world of new experiences waiting to happen.

an: i would just like to point out that this isn’t a fic with a polyamorous relationship, sorry if that was what some people wanted, instead i wanted to keep which twin is the love interest a secret until the end. if u guys want to guess after reading this first part, feel free to do so, i would love to hear your guys’ reasons too !! secondly, i would like to say a huge huge thank you to everyone for getting me to 600 followers, that’s absolutely mad like i’m blown away beyond compare, i love u all millions and billions i really am so grateful so thank you . hope you enjoy this first part, as always, <33

words: 5,790

warnings: swearing?

None of the nights seemed to turn into excitement, but this particular Tuesday evening in the Leaky Cauldron was passing slower than the rest had done. The paintings on the walls cast their weary eyes over the few lonely drinkers scattered across the dim room as even they contemplated calling it an early night. Y/n flicked through an old magazine and wondered if this place had ever seen much action, or whether the inn had become somewhere that paintings came to rest alongside grumpy travellers.

The girl hadn’t worked behind the bar long, only a handful of months now. But since then not a single bar fight had broken out, no one ordered anything out of the ordinary, and she struggled to remember seeing a single nice man pass through the doors. Besides the Weasley twins of course, who were running late for their weekly drink.

“Slow night?” Hannah came up behind her, carrying a stack of clean glasses and placing them under the counter. The girl swiped away her magazine and nodded, doing her best to hide the guilty blush that grew on her cheeks whenever she lied. It had always been a curse.

“I can do that if you want,” She offered, taking over and letting her boss stand up straight again. There was a strange air of awkwardness between the pair, despite the fact that they had grown close since she had started working as a barmaid.

“It’s been like this a lot lately, just… empty.” Hannah huffed, pulling up two stools and letting the younger girl sit beside her for a while.

“Yeah, makes the time pass a lot slower.”

“Neville’s getting worried,” The woman chewed her lip, gazing around at the lack of people. “He thinks it won’t be long before we need to do something drastic.”

“Should I be worried?” Y/n asked, knowing everything rode on this flimsy job.

Just as the girl posed her question the two front doors burst open, revealing the Weasley twins along with two others that she recognised from their past visits.

“I’ll talk to you later darling,” The boss stood, squeezing her shoulder and going to greet the regulars who she knew so well.

As Neville appeared from the back office to do the same she was called over to the far table by a man who she’d already brought too many drinks to. With a sigh, she obeyed his whines, and went over to see what he wanted.

“About time sweet cheeksh,” He slurred, his head propped up by a weary arm while the other gestured wildly as he spoke. “Another round darling-” She nodded, taking his money from the table and turning to leave, but he reached out for her hand.

She shivered beneath his touch, the stench of bile and alcohol filling her nose as she tried not to vomit on the spot. It was best to just ride out whatever he wanted, knowing better than to anger any kind of customer.

“Why don’t you join me when you get those drinks sorted- I haven’t got another chair but I’m sure my lap would do nicely.” He grinned, showing off the layer of yellow on his teeth.

Y/n gulped back her grunt and pretended to smile, sighing with relief when he let go of her and slumped against the wall beside him. The feeling of his hand lingered on her until she managed to distract her mind a little, smiling wider when the twins came up to the bar to order.

“Evening boys,” She sniffed back the nerves and greeted them with a polite welcome. “Not giving you trouble was he?” One of them asked, nodding over to the drunken mess.

“Nothing I can’t handle,”

“Well you let us know if not,” The other chimed, their charms always making her feel comfortable around them. Which was much more than could be said for most of the creeps who roamed the inn each night.

“That’s very good of you both, thank you-” Her smile never faltered, they always had noticed that, “What can I get for you then?”

“Two hog’s heads, one rum and I’ll have…”

“Come on Fred,” The other nudged his brother, the girl finally able to differentiate them, that was until the next day when she wouldn’t be able to recognise the clothes they chose.

“Firewhiskey would be great thanks y/n,” He smiled sweetly, leaning up against the bar as she rang up their orders on the till. He delved into the pockets of his trousers as George left to speak to Neville a bit longer, placing the money in her hand. “Keep the change too,” “A-are you sure?” She stuttered, looking down at the remaining 3 galleons in her hand.

“George never tips, so consider it his debt too.” The boy scoffed, leaving to join the rest of his group. The girl pocketed the money before anyone else could see her doing so and went to fix the drunken man his seventh drink of the night.

He grumbled about how much work he did that no one appreciated, as his eyes raked over her body in a queasily slow trance. The man didn’t stop at that, further pressing her to sit on his knee and let him feel her up. Crude remarks fell from his lips as if he’d relayed them to every woman he’d come across, as if it was second nature. All the while, she stood and let him ramble on, doing her best to ignore what he was saying and just nod along mindlessly. This wasn’t even the worst one, the girl sighed to herself, grimacing at the way his fingers toyed with the hems of her skirt as if he was going to try and slither inside it.

With perfect timing, Neville called her back to the bar, faking some questions about the menu so that she had an excuse to dismiss herself from the dog’s company and scurry off. She heard him call after her, but couldn’t make out what exactly it was he was saying. The girl prayed that he was too drunk to actually get up and walk over to the bar, or else he would become truly relentless.

No matter what, y/n always smiled, regardless of who was talking to her or at her. And when she wasn’t dealing with the unruly men of diagon alley, she was happy, she was lucky that she had a job and somewhere to stay. She had no reason to be unhappy.

Fred and George liked that about her. That in such a dimly lit, run down little place like the cauldron, such light could shine through with her presence. Both of them had mentioned it once on their drunken walk back home one night, that they wished they could afford to hire someone else at the shop because she would be perfect for it.

Y/n always smiled because most of the time she was a happy person, until there was no reason to be happy. She discovered that dreadful sinking feeling later that night once the pub closed and the girl was finishing up with her cleaning.

Neville and Hannah were speaking in hushed voices nearby, words that she couldn’t make out over the sound of her brush swishing over the stone ground. But they continued to glance over at her when they believed she wasn’t watching, which made her heart tighten with nervous anticipation.

“Y/n… darling.” Hannah’s sweet voice sounded through the empty room, startling her slightly. The girl stood up straight and smiled, a sight which made her boss want to cry on the spot. None of this was going to be easy. “Could you come into the office with me, please.”

She followed, her hands shaky as she left the broom leant up against a lone table. The door shut behind them with a finalising jolt as the woman sat down before her, prompting her own body to do the same.

The air became thick, and constricting as her knees locked together politely. Hannah seemed just as nervous as she, delaying the inevitable by shuffling paperwork around and shoving into nearby drawers. Finally the movement ceased and she had no choice but to bite the bullet.

“I know we already spoke today, about how the business is going here, and I promise that Neville and I have tried to do everything we can to get around this. But I’m afraid we’ve been left with no other choice y/n.”

The sound of her name felt like a stab, one short sound that cut through her skin and deep into the bone. The girl dwelled on that feeling, hoping that whatever followed would hurt less in contrast. It didn’t.

“We have to let you go y/n,” The knife plunged deeper, somehow splitting open all her organs on its way through her body. She froze, knowing that in this moment her world was falling apart all around her like dominoes.

“A-and the room? I’m supposing you need it?” Her voice was wavering, constantly on the edge as she confirmed all the priorities.

“I’m so sorry,” The gesture was appreciated, but it did nothing to help in the moment as the now homeless girl’s mind raced.

“Thank you anyway, for the past few months.” It was a sudden bravery that brought her to her feet as she announced how she would pack her things right away.

In truth, she needed to be alone, just for a few minutes. So she could let it all go, cast a muffliato and sob away her worries for a small amount of precious time. Hannah didn’t dare follow her, knowing nothing could fix it for the younger girl, instead she brought the bottle of gin from the bar into the office and took long, thoughtful sips until it was no longer the only thing playing through her mind.

When the girl gathered her things and apparated down to the front door with them, Neville was there with a sad smile upon his face. Only giving her a brief goodbye, before swiftly leaving to busy himself with yet another maintenance job around the building. He never was one for complex emotions, so she didn’t think bad of him for escaping an awkward situation.

Y/n opened the front doors, seeing the pouring rain before her and almost bursting into yet another round of tears. Not that her red raw eyes could take it much longer. Maybe it was because she had been standing up for the good part of eight hours, or maybe just the pitiful sight of the gloomy street before her was enough to make her knees shake. As if they were going to buckle beneath her and send her crumpling to the ground.

But she shuffled forward, her trunk following behind her and she had quietly charmed it to do so. Admittedly she didn’t have a lot, when she had decided to try and live alone it had become a rushed affair to say the least. So she only owned a number of outfits within that case, along with some books and other little items she had deemed important enough to bring alone. That, and her guitar case, which loomed over her shoulder like a stalking figure in the night. The one thing she definitely didn’t have, was a coat to shelter her from the oncoming rain.

The girl walked a few steps, round the side of the building, and found a pile of crates to rest on beneath a small dripping canopy. It was dry, for now, and it gave her a chance to think properly. She needed to figure something out fast.

But y/n’s mind was full of white noise, watching puddles form between the cobbled pathway before her and thinking how she used to love the rain as a child. It had been relaxing and beautiful from the safety of her childhood bedroom, the window facing her parent’s courtyard as she watched them leave for work each morning.

Back then they would both turn and wave, with a generous smile on their faces, always reminding the young girl how they wished to see her when they returned. They were always happy when she was a child, the three of them a cacophony of laughs and giggles. Until it stopped. Her parents worked together, but never left the house together, and neither of them stopped to wave her goodbye, no matter how many times she waited for them to do so. They just stopped being happy, and as y/n shifted her weight upon the damp crates she realised that maybe her once beloved parents were never happy at all.

They became distant. To one another and to her, even more so as she grew older and became her own person. They tried to oppress it, probably seeing her joyful exterior and constant smiles and not recognising where it had come from. Not either of them. It angered them further, seeing her be such a resilient person, because they wished for her to feel the same neverending hurt they had caused one another. Regardless of the fact that it wasn’t her emotion to own.

Y/n remembered the night she was handed a file by her father, feeling stunned to have been called into his study while he was working. Often he would go inside and not appear for days at a time, so she knew whatever it was, it had to be important.

She read over the words he’d laid out for her, detailing their plans for her, what they wanted for her future. It was a plan of her life, given to her by two people who couldn’t be bigger strangers. But it wasn’t hers, it felt nothing like hers. She wanted to be someone, and she wanted to do it for herself, not because her parents feel it’s financially best.

The words, writer… and prophet echoed constantly around the page as she tried to make sense of it all. Her father barely looked up from his work as she struggled to remain calm, her lungs losing all motor function as she felt her stomach twist and turn. That was when she realised she had to leave, do something for herself.

Rain had been such a comforting thing for y/n, when she was a child. Now it covered her like a plague, and drenched her down to the bone as she did all she could to forget about that life. It had been her home, her playground, her school. It had been her whole life, without much chance to be free in the rest of the world.

Now it was nothing. She wanted it to be nothing. There had to be something she could do, there had to be somewhere she could go. Because that place was no longer an option.

“Y/n?” A voice made her head whip up, the tears on her cheeks easily disguised as the rain if it wasn’t for the way she snivelled to herself. She hadn’t even felt herself begin to cry, yet here she was, and it was a pitiful sight to see.

The light was bad in the alley, but when the two tall figures got nearer she recognised them instantly. Her heart broke a little more to see the worry in the twins’ eyes as they quickly took in the sight of her cramped body amongst her belongings.

“Are you leaving town then?” She thinks it was George, asked, he had been the one wearing a black shirt when she’d seen them earlier. The girl was in a daze, her head taking in their words a lot slower than it should have been as she begged herself not to cry in front of them.

To them, she looked like she was in a dream. Her eyes glazed over even as she glanced their way, making it look like she wasn’t really there with them. George’s question caught her off guard a bit, the girl looking as though she had forgotten where she was as she looked around her with bewilderment. Then the look of confusion fell to one of despair when it clicked once again, she was all alone.

“I suppose I am.” Even the two men could hear how her voice begged to break as she spoke with an airy tone. This was the first time they had seen her anything but bright and smiley.

It broke their hearts, in all honesty.

“Do you need somewhere to stay the night?” Fred, this time, asked. He knelt down to meet her eye level, their tall forms always towering above her at the best of times.

“We have a particularly comfy couch at our place,” George added, following suit with the kneeling.

“It’s got five star reviews,”

“And probably a few galleons hidden down the back if you’re lucky.”

Their smiles made her giggle, and it was all they could have asked for in the moment.

“That’s very kind of you,” Her sweet tone was back, like she’d taken control of her head again, “But I couldn’t ask that of you two.” It was her default to be polite, not wanting to be a burden to anyone. It was the one thing her nanny had taught her before being let go when she was twelve, not to ask anything of anyone but yourself.

“Nonsense,” Fred stood up, taking her guitar case that was leant up against the brick wall and swinging it over his shoulder.

“Really, I’ll figure something o-out - it’s fine!” She tried to protest, but the twins had already decided her fate. George lifted her trunk with ease, and Fred held out a hand for her, prompting the girl to clumsily lift herself off the jumble of crates with his assistance.

“Come on then,” They said, starting off towards the brighter part of diagon alley.

She didn’t move, Fred having let go of her as soon as she steddied herself again. They looked back at her, both frowning with the same face as she tried not to laugh at how they were so similar they even acted like one another.

“Well you better come with us-” “Or else it’ll look like we’ve robbed you!”

The girl just looked down at her feet, feeling as though they were only doing this because they couldn’t leave her out in the rain. Which was true. But the twins knew that she was someone worth helping out.

“Do you have anywhere else to go?” George asked, shifting the case into his other hand nonchalantly as they waited for her to come along with them. Silently she shook her head, embarrassed to meet their eyes as she admitted defeat.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Fred chimed in, still wearing their signature smile.

Y/n couldn’t help but return the sentiment, she didn’t have to be alone for at least one night. That was something to smile about, so she smiled. Her feet surged her body forward, a small skip noticeable as she reached the two patient men.

“We do look like we’ve just mugged you.” George laughed as they all walked through the alley and towards their shop, her little life packed away and in their hands. The girl slotted between them, having to catch up with their longer strides every now and then, as both twins chatted away as if nothing was amiss.

“Here’s the palace itself,” “Our pride and joy!” They announced, ushering her into the shop lined with all the products an excited teenage wizard could wish for. The shelves seemed to be full to the brim, some things piled up as a display. As haphazard and chaotic as it looked, y/n couldn’t deny that the bright colours shimmering off everything she could see instilled a happiness inside her that she rarely felt as a child. This would have been her dream when she was younger.

The twins’ shop was well known in the alley, by almost everyone who visited the leaky cauldron. Yet she had never dared step inside it herself. Most days she would have been busy with jobs around the inn, and on the off chance that she ventured around any other establishments, it was purely for essentials.

The two men watched as she scanned all that she could see from the doorway, her eyes wide and inviting with each new discovery. They would see kids come in every single day with the same reaction, yet with her it seemed new. It was if she had never seen a toy before.

“Have you eaten yet?” Fred asked, weaving through some unopened boxes to reach the stairs. Even on them there was an endless supply of treats to be found.

“I’m not hungry… thank you.” She followed behind him, slowly, with George closing up the front doors and setting up security wards.

“That wasn’t the question silly,” He laughed, catching up. “Have you eaten tonight?”

“No- but I’m really fine without.”

Once they reached the very top of the long set of stairs, past the ‘staff only’ sign, a door was kicked open in front of her. The apartment inside was a sight for sore eyes, and also the furthest thing from what y/n had envisioned on the walk there.

From how high they had gotten inside the shop, the girl presumed that the flat above had to be pokey and a lot smaller than what she was seeing. It was like a large loft, with brick walls and two levels and these huge windows that looked well over diagon alley. She could see all the lights of muggle London shining amongst the dark sheeted sky.

“My rooms up there, and George is through there.” Fred explained, nodding towards the opening to a small hallway and setting down her things in the excess of open space they had. It was comfortable.

“And here’s your bed!” The other twin exclaimed, throwing himself onto the huge sofa that stretched beneath one of the windows and came out into the room in an L shape. They weren’t lying when they said it was comfortable, because she could tell it was even by looking at it.

“Right! I, for one, am starving.” Fred announced, walking through to the open kitchen, his footsteps echoing on the floor as he went. “What about you y/n?”

The girl was too busy staring out the window to hear him. She’d never seen the city this way before. Her old house was well out in the country, and the alley didn’t give much of a chance for enchanting views. It seemed as though this was the exception.

“Just make her something, she’s busy.” George chuckled, watching her from the sofa. The girl turned and looked at him confused, but the man just shook his head with a smile. “Nothing important,” He whispered and let her go back to the hypnotising view.

As they sat down to eat together, George asked y/n many questions about her life, determined to learn all he could about her in one evening.

“Let her swallow first will you!” Fred huffed, passing her a glass of water so she didn’t choke in the process.

“I was homeschooled all my life, well- up until I moved really.” The girl smiled politely, trying not to go into too much detail with her answers. The two men were so kind, though, that it was hard not to tell them everything she’d been holding in. “So you didn’t finish it all?”

“I left before I got the chance to,”

They nodded in understanding, but she could see the cogs turning in their heads as they both took another bite of their food, all in unison. She snickered a little, enjoying the way they effortlessly put on a show with their mannerisms.

“Did you run away!” They both cried out, startling her as she sat across from them.

“W-well… I um- yes I d-did really.” A wry laugh sounded as she spoke, an out of place sound amongst the shock that displayed over Fred and George’s faces.

“Woah, did something bad happen?”

“George! You can’t just ask that- you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to y/n.” Fred rolled his eyes at his brother, but the girl felt a sense of relief that they asked, it felt nice to have the chance to tell someone after keeping it to herself all this time. It felt more out of place to not tell them.

“It’s okay,” She chuckled at them both, “My parents weren’t very happy people, and they both kind of kept their lives centered around work. I had no problem with it, either than the lack of freedom I had at home, but it changed when they basically showed me a plan for my life.”

The twins listened intently, nodding along with her words and silently reacting accordingly. They both frowned with the last bit, never hearing of someone having their lives planned out for them before.

“They planned your life? Isn’t that a bit, you know-”

“Controlling,” Fred finished, a look of pity on his face.

“We had different ideas, they wanted me to be a writer at the prophet when I’d shown no interest in journalism or even writing before.”

“That’s mad,” George said in a hushed tone, not wanting to cut her off.

“It was then that I realised the only way I was going to do what I wanted, was if I left. So I just packed my things and came here, hoping to find somewhere to stay with what little money I had. Hannah was nice enough to take me in free of charge, so long as I worked behind the bar for it.”

“Both her and Neville really are saints.” “It’s so much better than I could have asked for, but now they can’t afford it. It’s all understandable, it’s just a pain that I can’t ask my parents for help.”

All the while that she recalled her story, the girl smiled, reminding the men that she was a lot stronger than people might assume. Given what she’d been through, it was amazing that she hadn’t broken down already.

“We’ll figure something out for you, all of us.” Fred smiled, glad to see colour in her cheeks now that she was in the warmth of their loft compared to the drizzly alleyway.

“It’s not the end of the world if your parents don’t support you either, there’s plenty more people in the world who will.” George reassured her, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Oh godric yeah,” Fred joined in, “Our folks went bloody mental when they heard this was what we wanted to start up instead of finishing at hogwarts.”

“Do they like it now?” She asked cautiously, feeling a little better knowing that they too skipped out on their academic life.

“They have to, given how well we’ve done.” “It is hard to deny our success,” They chimed like songbirds, the passion they had for their self made business shining through their wide eyes.

It was no surprise that the three of them got on, but as the night progressed quicker than they thought, the new trio found themselves with no awkward silences. The clock above them looked as though it had been enchanted when George finally glanced up at it, amazed to see that they’d been chatting for four hours already.

Only when y/n yawned did the two twins decide it was maybe time to call it quits.

“It’s getting late,” Fred spoke up, not wanting to keep the girl from her much needed sleep. It must have been a long day for her. “I’ll grab you some blankets.”

As he disappeared up into his room to look for something to keep her cosy all night, the girl helped George clear away their mess from dinner.

“I feel awful,” She smiled politely, handing him more plates to place into the sink that was doing all the work for them.

“What for?” The man seemed genuinely surprised.

“We spent all that time talking, but we never decided on what to do with me.” She scoffed, feeling like a child needing their help. “I promise I won’t hang around much longer, I’ll sort something out.”

“Like what?” He didn’t mean to sound harsh, it was more to show her that they were her only option right then.

“I-I’m not sure… sorry.” “Don’t be sorry, we want to help you.”

The door to Fred’s bedroom opened again and they fell into silence, the girl slipping back into the mindset that she was growing into a burden for them. She couldn’t ask anymore of them, they’ve already done enough for her. Then and there, y/n decided she would leave in the morning.

“Bed’s ready!” The shout came from the living room, where blankets had been laid over the sofa beneath the window. “Thought you would enjoy the view here.” Fred added when she came out to see his masterpiece.

“That’s hardly a bed!” George scoffed, laughing at the copious amount of cushions he’d left for her head, all different colours and sizes.

“It’ll be perfect, thank you.” She smiled, her eyes sparkling under the city lights that spilled into the room. It didn’t even matter that they would reflect against the ceiling as she slept, it looked like stars.

“As long as you like it then,” George muttered, eyeing his brother who clung onto a smug grin.

“Goodnight y/n, sleep well.”

“Night y/n.” They both smiled, turning to head off to their respective rooms as she opened up her case to look for something to sleep in.

“Night Fred, night George… thank you again, for all of this.” They both nodded at her words and disappeared, leaving her to change in the dark loft, only a small lamp beside her lighting her way to the sofa.

She clicked it off, casting lumos and stumbling over the fluffy rug to curl beneath the many layers of covers that Fred had left her. The girl chuckled to herself, peeling one off and folding it in a neat pile on the floor. Two would be just fine for one night.

It didn’t take long for her to drift off to sleep, the whole day’s nonsense catching up on her and slipping her body into a mini-coma. Her mind ran and slowed all at once, memories of nights she would spend in her childhood bed, reading books for hours on end until she’d fall asleep with the pages sprawled open beside her.

Many nights she would hear her parents scream at one another, that harrowing wailing sound would echo for hours until both of them grew tired and they decided to sleep apart yet again. That’s when she knew she could relax, she could finally do all the things that she wouldn’t have time for in the day between her tutor’s classes and meaningless chores.

She had been a night owl, revelling in the time she got to be truly alone, when the house slept she would come alive. Now, she couldn’t stay awake even if she wanted to. She needed to sleep, and fast.

Y/n vaguely heard a door opening and closing, unsure whether it was real or her mind replaying memories all too vividly. Either way, her eyes were far too heavy to open themselves and check. It could wait.

Fred cursed himself for not catching his bedroom door behind him, the noise booming across the loft. He waited, frozen at the top of the steps, watching to see if the girl would rouse at the sound. But he was in luck, she didn’t move a muscle.

He padded down to the bottom, making sure each step was lighter than the last as he headed into the small corridor. George jolted awake the second his door was opened, reaching for his lamp to see who was intruding on his sleep.

“What the fuck!” He almost shouted.

“Shut up! She’s sleeping in there!” Fred hissed, walking over to the empty side of the bed and sitting down calmly.

“So was I you git- what the hell are you doing, since when did we start sleeping together?”

“Disgusting-”

“I didn’t mean that,” George rubbed his eyes with a grimace and reluctantly sat up, “What do you want then?” His voice finally hushed to match his brother’s.

“I have an idea,” Fred started.

“Yes,” “Well, I’ve been thinking about y/n-” “If this is you coming to tell me about another sex dream, I don’t wanna know, okay?”

“Will you just shut up and listen to me,”

“Fine, fine, go on.” He pulled the covers over his bare chest, feeling suddenly exposed to the cold night’s air.

“Well, we’ve been saying for ages that we need someone to work in the shop, except we can’t really afford it right now.” Fred explained, and George nodded along. “Look, y/n needs somewhere to stay, but she would never stay here without giving us some sort of payment, right?” The man’s head looked like it was on a spring as he took in the words. “So, why don’t we let y/n stay here with us and in return she can help out in the shop?”

“Do you think she’d agree to that?” “It was basically the same agreement she had with Neville and Hannah, except we have no reason to get rid of her.”

“I suppose so,” He didn't sound overly convinced.

“She needs somewhere to stay, we need someone to work, it’s a win-win situation!” Fred exclaimed, smiling like a mad man to try and convince his brother that their plan could work out.

“Okay, fine. We can ask her in the morning.”

“Great, I knew you’d say yes.” “Well it’s not like she’s the worst person to live with, it hardly took much to sway me.”

“Not the worst person? Come on George, she’s great!” Fred, admittedly, got a bit too excited at this. His voice ringing out louder than he’d wanted it to.

“You have had a sex dream haven’t you?” “Oh shut up!” “Was she in it,” George teased, prompting his brother to get up and head for the door. “So i’m taking that as a yes.” He turned the light off, hearing one last hiss from Fred before the door shut behind him.

“Aren’t you forgetting the time you had a sex dream about Mcgonnogall?” Fred quipped, leaving quickly as not to get a beating up from the other twin, who was mentalling cursing himself for ever revealing that fact when they were drunk one time.

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blueiight · 1 year

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Weird question to ask but how insane is lestat for Louis? I never read the books I only watched the show so I don't know if it different in the novels

i'd say lestat is deeply in love with louis and is just as insane about him as vice versa. in the book interview we’re mainly exposed to louis’s limited pov, with none of claudia’s diaries supplementing or anything else that we saw in the show. so we see lestat , armand + claudia solely thru his eyes. lestat in the first book manages to find beauty in louis's most banal, cruel self, toying on the qualities in him that already existed, and we learn in the later chronicles lestat had such an adoring perspective on louis in these moments (+ onward in the later story).

i think the show does a good job of preserving the beats of their early dynamic, with the opera singer serving as a subsitute for the dead sex worker lestat killed here, with lestat begging for louis to realize he is a killer too. 👇🏾

and the show does a good job of working with the romance. i’ve talked before or alluded to how in the second cour of interview book louis was haunted by lestat’s specter because of what he didnt know about lestat (especially considering he knew far less of lestat then), regretting the answers he never gave or received in their relationship& also longing for the familiarity of lestat in the face of such an unfamiliar environment. but lestat in his quest for fame in the vampire lestat, is also in part motivated by the urge to respond to what louis said in the in universe iwtv, and to reunite with louis.. just alone u can see how loving lestat is in his thought of louis, almost prideful in louis breaking the rules as he did too, and his recollection of it all, that in his violation of marius’s teachings, he managed to create this unholy family with a man he loved so passionately.

lestat describes gabrielle and louis as his “two greatest loves” in n qotd, and in tobt this 👇🏾is how he recalls his pov in when he first fell /thought of the louis he met in interview.

im mainly setting u up w references to the first four or so odd books bc u seem to have very little if any reference of them so far. but a lot of other things happen, louis is part of lestat’s motivation to escape damnation in mtd, when louis attempts suicide in merrick 2000, lestat ends up giving louis his 2x superpowered blood[ qotd+mtd stimmy packages ] to save louis’s life.. long story short lestat is just as crazy about louis as louis is about him, they express that in different ways bc theyre different characters. lestat may have had his good bit of paramours thru the chronicles, but ultimately lestat will always find louis again in a sordid romance, and/or louis will find his way back into lestat’s life + watch pulpy dramatic romance movies with him together. so i guess id say the show isnt that different so far from the wider chronicles in how lxl relationship go outside of actual sex but we dont have show!lestat’s pov exactly yet for fans who do not know the book/s. i hope this helped ^^

#yn.#yn answers #iwtv #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #tvc #tvl #qotd #tobt #he gets jealous of other’s blood inside him the guy is in love #literally calls him beautiful one all the time. likeee #i think show& book les were conjoined twins split at birth and sent off to different realms #and book lou is one of show lou’s ancestors

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xiu21chen99 · 4 years

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hxh headcanon/imagine.

again... still about hisoillu but about their engagement instead of illu's influenced fashion choice.

also this is more of... idk it gave reason why they chose to marry instead of uh other ways i guess??

i've seen so many fanarts where illu would break the news to the zoldycks or how killu would react to having hisoka as his brother in law- like srsly it's meme worthy at this point- and lotsa ones that showed how hisoka proposed as a joke or smtg but... I've been overthinking abt it these past few days sO i present to you how i think "the big question aka the proposal" happened... (manga spoilers??)

it's after hisoka resurrected himself obviously, and def after he killed kortopi and shalnark (so he knew there was gonna be empty slots in the spiders' lineup)

i imagine illu went back to the zoldyck estate after the whole fiasco and only heard of hisoka's "death" from rumors while he was on a mission

and then when he was idk maybe contemplating on whether or not he should visit the body(?) to pay respects or something, he gets a text message from the devil himself

their text went like this probably:

hisoka: hey~ where are you right now?♠️ (and no u can't tell me hisoka doesn't text w card suits u just can't-)

illumi: who are you and how did you get the phone you are currently using?

hisoka: ooh~ illu~ i feel betrayed, did you delete my number?♣️

illumi: hisoka is dead

hisoka: *image attached*

illumi: oh

illumi: hello hisoka, how are you still alive?

hisoka: you sound disappointed~♦️

illumi: i kind of am...

hisoka: rude, just tell me where you are♥️

...and that's how they met up?? ngl i think illu has a know-it-all syndrome where he just has to,,, k n o w everything

he's curious so he agrees to the meetup ofc

he's also surprised when he sees hisoka is in good shape when they meet (idk at a bar in an unknown city?)

they drink whiskey on the rocks because... you know...

hisoka explains how he survived and his next plan of action (which is terminate the spiders)

illumi makes a mental note of nen after death bc he's heard and seen it all before but... not to this extent,

this is gonna be,,, bland but i think this is the logic behind why hisoka chose to get married/engaged instead of just paying up front (reference to the ten dons' commission to get chrollo killed and chrollo's commission to get the ten dons killed)--

anyways here's how their conversation goes:

i: "why did you want to talk in person?"

h: "oh y'know, for old times sake."

i: "...right"

hisoka laughs, "okay so maybe i want to ask you for a favor..?"

confused, illumi asks, "why could you not have just texted if you wanted me to kill someone for you?"

h: "no, no- wait, actually, you're not too far off."

i: ~mOrE cOnfUsiOn~ "huh?"

h: "how do contracts for assassination work in your... family business?"

i: "half the promised pay before, the remaining half afterwards. should the target be eliminated by a third party, the assigned zoldyck still gets the pay and should the employer die, then the contract is terminated and the zoldyck will report back immediately."

h: "and has anyone made a contract to have themselves terminated?"

i: "i beg your pardon?"

h: "what complications will arise should your employer's target be... themselves?"

i: "i believe... i have never encountered such circumstance before. the people who hire us are those who have enough money and resource to have their enemies killed quickly. no one's tried to test the zoldyck assassination prowess."

h: "so... how will that work?"

i: "are you implying this is the reason why you have contacted me today?"

h: "yes~ ♥️" (how he said a heart emoji out loud is up to you, reader)

i: "it will be a pointless paradox. logically, the zoldyck will only get the employment bill. and i, myself, do not find pleasure in going for the kill like you lest i get my reward, so you will not get a contract out of me, hisoka."

h: "is there no leeway?"

i: "a zoldyck stands up to their word. so no."

h: "even for a friend?~ ♦️"

i: "we are not friends, hisoka-"

hisoka raises his glass of whiskey along with his eyebrow.

i: "oh..."

h: "didn't you tell dear killua that a zoldyck didn't need friends?"

i: "you... are an associate, someone reliable in the killing world. it's different."

h: "hypocrite"

i: "i ask you for favors and you make me return them. it is not like we spend our time together leisurely like killu with that island boy..."

hisoka clinks their matching glasses of whiskey even though his is already empty, a shit-eating grin on his lips.

i: "you suggested we meet here."

h: "this isn't the first time we went out to drink, right illu?"

i: "regardless!! i will not kill you just for half the money. i do not like wasting efforts on fruitless missions."

h: "as i said, is there no exception, to make sure you get my money if you were to succeed in killing me?"

i: "are you doubting my skill, hisoka?"

h: "that's not the point right now~ ♠️"

i: "wait, why do you want me to get all of your money?"

h: "haven't we just gotten over this subject? because you're my friend, of course."

i: "i... we are not friends, hisoka."

hisoka claps, "that's it! illumi!! ♣️"

i: "eh?"

h: "marry me! that way in our prenup I'll make sure you get all of my money, and even without a prenup you'll still get it since you'll be my only relative! that solves it!"

i: "hisoka, are you sure death did not took a toll on your brain? you did say you used Bungee Gum only on your heart and lungs..."

h: "i'm being serious, illumi!! and doesn't this solve your earlier conflict? we don't have to be friends, we'll be husbands!"

i: "do not use that tactic with me, you manipulative bastard. stop joking."

h: "this is purely beneficial for you, honestly i don't get why you just won't accept it."

i: "then humor me this first, why now?"

h: "dear illu, i've been to literal hell and back. i think it's time to leave my mark in case i fail to escape death again."

i: "was it that bad?"

h: "you'll love it there, illu~ ♥️"

h: "on a more serious note, though, i do plan to marry you. out of everyone i've encountered, you're the most eligible candidate. you're powerful, fully capable and extremely pretty to boot! you're the ideal husband!"

(blushing obviously, illumi downs the remaining whiskey in his glass) i: "death has changed you, hisoka."

h: "so?"

i: "fine."

h: "excellent!"

and in one fell swoop, illumi has a pin against the curve of hisoka's jugular, wrist held tightly by hisoka- a card matching against his own neck.

"not yet, dear husband." hisoka whispered into his ear, "we have to manage the papers first. and i've a request before you do."

they let each other go at the same time, not even breathing an unnecessary breath in the other's personal space (well, they're nearly pressed thigh to thigh anyways, what's the point of personal space anymore-)

"a condition rather than a request, really."

"what?" hisoka orders them refills, and downs his when it arrives.

"join the ryodan first."

glass already pressed on thin lips, illumi's confused hum resonates softly into the concave utensil. "why?"

"so things can get more interesting. i assume you know of the dark continent expedition that's soon to take place?"

"father has advised i take part on it, since kalluto told me the ryodan plans to rob some cliches who'll join the expedition- to look after him. you want me to join them?"

"yes, and i plan to board as well, don't fret."

illumi's eyes turn to slits, "how should i know you would be there? i can't take your word when you might just disappear when we've all boarded."

hisoka grins, wide then wider, "you should know by now illu, i plan to avenge my wounded pride. that damned chrollo didn't even fight me properly."

tilting his head, illumi stared at the man beside him, "is that not contradictory? i thought you did not mind your opponent using whatever means necessary to win?"

"magicians use tricks and misdirection to awe the audience," hisoka says almost thoughtlessly, "chrollo's a narcissistic hypnotist who used the audience as a damned shield because he knew he couldn't handle me face-to-face."

he groans, tinged in regret. "i shouldn't have picked heaven's arena, if i'd chosen a more discreet location then maybe the damage won't be this bad."

"damage?" illumi rests his chin on his palm, facing his husband.

hisoka swipes a hand over his face, and the glamour comes off. the picture he sent illumi now present in front of him. he was missing a nose, his left hand didn't have any finger left and dried blood chipped on his white skin. "oh."

with another swipe, everything's made correct again. hisoka was grinning again. he downs the remaining alcohol and leaves jenny bills under the emptied glass.

"come, lovely husband. we're to elope and legalize our union!"

illumi follows suit after downing his own glass, "i think there might be another loop hole, if you were to join the family. zoldycks do not kill family."

"so if i were to wed you, here and now, you'd think me more of a family than alluka?"

"alluka is not family."

"are those your words, illumi? or silva's?"

"i..."

"wow, you're really just as fucked up as i am."

"where do you plan to take me? i've just said i cannot kill family."

hisoka chuckles, "then you're the one to take my name, of course."

"preposterous!"

"who the hell still uses that word?"

"i am and will always be a zoldyck-"

"exactly. it's just legal papers, if you kill me then you'll just be a widow and even get your name back! see how everything'll work out in the end?"

"hisoka-"

"are you doubting your skill of assassination, my dearest husband?"

"... i better get the most expensive ring in this damned city."

"that's the spirit! now let's go get married!"

"wait, hisoka. what is your last name?"

later that night, when they leave a chapel, something gold glimmers on hisoka's bungee gum/texture surprise ring finger. a matching one around illumi's finger.

unlike hisoka, though, illumi had an extra red glimmer right under that gold, in the dead center of a silver band of intricately designed pattern. hisoka had foregone the traditional diamond in favor of a 16 carat ruby engagement ring, such a curious choice but illumi accepted it all the same...

(much later on, hisoka took both rings as collateral and reminded illumi that he would get them back even if he died bc it was in their damn prenup- and bc it was technically bought under illumis name and that's how hisoka assured illu that he'd be on that black whale,,, bc he had the rings and planned to give them back to him there)

"I thought a red gemstone was better suited for the rather bloody and murderous ending that our relationship will inevitably come to, wouldn't you agree?"

-Hisoka Morow whenever someone mentions his preference of proposal ring...

"I disagree with most of his ideals, our relationship has always had a fragile foundation, and I knew from the start that we'd eventually end up killing each other."

-Illumi Morow, nee Zoldyck when asked about his thoughts on his husband...

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twdbegins · 4 years

Note

could I possibly get Simon x fem!reader angst where Simon and her are in love but she doesn’t know the extent of what the saviors do to other groups and when she finds out she considers running away from the sanctuary and she feels guilty because she loves him so much but she’s horrified at the thought of what the saviors are capable of? thank u I’m in love with your blog so much

Of course! Thank you so much! :) Thanks for requesting!

How Fast It Can Change

Simon x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Language, Sexual implications.

Word Count: 2,582

“It doesn’t matter. You still did it.”

The Sanctuary was perfect. Too perfect. They had endless supplies, food, basic survival resources. Everything was well put together for the most part, and things usually ran smoothly. You had grown to love living here. You had made friends and acquaintances, as well as gained a lover along the way. You weren’t shy to admit that Simon sealed the deal for you.

The thought of spending everyday with him was enough for you to accept a full time commitment to this place. You had a nice bedroom, plenty of food, a steady job, and a social life of sorts. Having Simon as a boyfriend was the cherry on top.

You had become quite the item around the Sanctuary. If someone saw Simon, odds were that you were close by, and vice versa. In a way, you were kind of like that one high school couple always running around. Everyone knew you were together, and no one dared to try and break it up. You fell in love quickly, and you were convinced there was nothing in the world that would’ve changed your mind.

His kisses were warm on your skin as he peppered your neck, stirring you from your deep sleep. You inhaled deeply, pushing him away for waking you so early. He had always been more of a morning person than you, so your response wasn’t surprising. His kisses stopped, and you almost fell back asleep before you felt him pulling you back to him and nibbling on your ear.

You let out an annoyed groan, burying your head into the crook of his neck. He chuckled in a groggy voice.

“Good morning to you too, baby.” He said sarcastically.

You huffed, wincing at the feel of his facial hair on your cheek.

“It’s so early.” You complained.

“It’s 6:30.” He replied.

“I concur.” You sneered.

He laughed again, turning to face the other way, but stopped when you whined in protest.

“Oh, now you want me?” He asked as if he hadn’t just tried to shower you with attention.

He brought you into his arms once more, content that you weren’t squirming away anymore. His nose was buried in your hair, and he was really beginning to dread having to get up soon.

“When will you be back?” You asked.

Simon was leaving with Negan and a few other Saviors for a “run of sorts” as Simon had explained it. Something felt fishy about it, but you tried not to ask too many questions. Negan didn’t really go on runs unless it was something major.

“Probably Thursday.” Simon replied.

Your eyes opened wider at that. It was currently Tuesday, which meant they’d only be gone for two days. Something was definitely up.

“That’s all?” You questioned, leaning up on your elbow to look at him better.

He scoffed.

“Well don’t sound so disappointed about it.” He joked.

“No, I mean that runs usually take a lot longer.” You pointed out.

Simon shrugged. Truth was, Simon wasn’t really 100% sure of what they were going to be doing. Although, he had a pretty good idea, and he thought it would be best to leave you out of it.

“It’s just a short run I guess. I don’t really know what to tell you.” He said, hoping you wouldn’t keep dwelling on this conversation.

There was a lot that went on around the Sanctuary that you didn’t know about. Simon saw all the ins and outs of how Negan ran this place, and had become very desensitized to it all. Simon didn’t really have a great radar between what was right and what was wrong anymore. Ever since getting involved with Negan, things had become pretty blurred.

“You gonna stay busy while I’m gone?” He queried, changing the subject himself.

“Aren’t I always?” You wondered.

“When you’re not late.” He declared.

You laughed out loud, feeling much more awake now.

“Okay, so I’m late MAYBE once a week. If you didn’t keep me up so late then I wouldn’t sleep in.” You argued.

He smirked at that, sitting up to be level with you.

“This is the first time I’ve heard you complain about that.” He said, leaning to kiss you.

You kissed him back before he pulled away.

“Things change, you know.” You said with a nod.

“That they do, darlin’.”

His alarm clock went off finally, signaling that it was really time for him to get up. He let out a growl, reaching to silence the screaming clock. He looked at you again, a devious smile playing across his features.

“How about a quickie before I go to work?” He suggested coyly.

You hummed thoughtfully.

“Now who’s gonna be late for work?”

He laughed at your cheekiness, tackling you back onto the mattress, earning an excited shriek from you. He kissed you wildly, your hands roaming over his toned midriff. He hovered over you, stopping only for a moment to look into your eyes.

“I love you.” He purred.

“I love you, Si.” You replied before kissing him again and starting his morning off right.

Simon went to join Negan and his selected crew not long after, prepared for the next couple days ahead. You couldn’t pinpoint it, but the entire time that Simon was gone, you had a weird feeling in your chest. You felt like something horrible was going on, but you couldn’t identify what it was. Everything was business as usual around the Sanctuary, but something in the air was bugging you.

It wasn’t until they returned on Thursday night that you discovered what it was. And it almost made you physically sick. A group of Saviors had passed you in the hall when you caught the tail end of their conversation.

“Negan apparently obliterated the guy. His brains were squashed out all over the place,” The first Savior claimed; “Right next to his wife too.”

“No kidding! I heard the first guy didn’t even make a sound when Negan “Lucilled” him.”

You had heard that term before. Everyone knew about Negan’s famous weapon of choice. A baseball bat adorned with barbed wire. It was a nasty weapon that could do some serious damage. You had only heard people refer to it when talking about walkers, but you had a bad feeling that they weren’t talking about the dead.

You stopped in your tracks. Surely...Negan hadn’t done that to a person. What did they mean by “the first guy”? How many people were involved with this? You did a full 360 and went back the direction you had come from, suddenly not interested in seeing Simon anymore. Your mind was reeling, and you caught yet another conversation from a different set of Saviors.

“It was brutal. My stomach almost couldn’t take it.” A voice that you knew to be Arat spoke out.

“At least it wasn’t another Oceanside situation. Simon was fucking nuts for pulling that stunt.” The older man she was talking to piped up.

You felt your blood run cold. What the hell was Oceanside? What did Simon have to do with it? You knew there was one person you could get some straight answers from. Richie was a pretty laid back guy. Never really got in the way, but was loyal to Negan. One thing you liked about him was that he always told it to you straight.

As much as you loved that, it made the news so much harder.

Turns out the “run” wasn’t really a run at all. Negan was scoping out a group in a little community called Alexandria. Negan had rounded them up execution style and brutally killed two of their members. Apparently, they had even taken one of them prisoner. Negan was going to start taking a portion of their resources for the Sanctuary and was planning on stripping them of all their weapons. Negan had even tried to get one of them to cut off his own son’s arm.

As gruesome as that was to hear, that wasn’t the worst of it.

You asked Richie about Oceanside, and for the first time, Richie was apprehensive to answer. He almost seemed...sympathetic. Eventually, you squeezed it out of him. Part of you wished you hadn’t said anything.

Richie said it was more of a rumor than anything, but that a few years ago, Simon had apparently wiped out an entire community in one go. People of all ages and backgrounds. Just completely disposed of them all. Negan had seriously considered throwing Simon out on his ass after that, but ultimately decided he was worth a second chance.

You weren’t sure what was worse. The fact that he had killed an entire community or the fact that he did it without being told to.

You left Richie in a fog, taking short and shallow breaths because you felt as if you were about to puke up everything you had eaten in the last three weeks. You needed time to process this, and you wanted to be as far away from Simon as possible.

You returned to your room. You’d be sleeping on your own for the first time in forever. The moment your door was closed, you slid down the back of it and let out a gut wrenching sob, burying your head in between your knees.

Could the man you loved so much really not be who you thought he was?

You didn’t sleep for the next three days. Words and disturbing images flashing through your head on an endless loop. You stayed away from Simon, Negan, Arat, or anyone that had been there. This was killing you to think that you were involved with a place that did these kinds of things.

You didn’t want to be involved with that. That was so far from your moral compass that it gave you a headache. The thought of leaving crossed your mind in passing the first time. You could just get up and leave without a trace. No one would ever know when or why. Negan could find someone to replace your job. Someone who had more of a stomach for this sort of thing. There was only one thing keeping you from walking out right that second.

Simon.

Despite how horribly you felt about this, you still loved him. Undeniably, you’d love him until you couldn’t anymore. He was the greatest thing that had ever happened to you...but you didn’t know if you could live knowing he had such a hand in the way Negan ran this place. You would never be able to justify the way Simon killed all those people. You wouldn’t be able to feel his touch the same again without thinking about what other horrid things he had done with his hands. You couldn’t look into his eyes anymore without wondering how many people he had seen take their last breath.

You’d never see him the same again.

It was hurting you. The thought of leaving him without saying anything. Knowing him, he’d go out looking for you the moment he knew you were gone. So, you decided to tell him, even if it hurt 100x more. Turns out, you didn’t have to go far to find him.

A knock on your door sounded out about midnight. You knew it was him before you even opened the door. You hadn’t seen him in days, and you hadn’t spent a day apart since you had arrived a year ago. It was only a matter of time before he came to find you. You took a breath before opening the door, to reveal a very worried Simon.

You felt your heart sink into your shoes. This was going to be the hardest thing you had ever done. He looked at you through bleary, red eyes. He had been crying, and his demeanor told you everything he needed to know.

He knew that you knew.

“[Y/N]...” He breathed out.

You didn’t say anything. You fought the tears that were threatening to fill your eyes, you didn’t want to cry anymore.

“I can’t stay here anymore.” You confessed, just above a whisper.

His fears had turned out to be correct. Every neuron in his body shut off and restarted it felt like. He was going to use everything in him, every nerve, cell, vessel, and fiber to fight for you. He couldn’t let you just leave.

“Let me explain.” He said, entering your room.

You closed the door slowly. You weren’t in the mood for excuses.

“You murdered them, Si,” You sighed; “You wiped them out like they were nothing.”

He let out a shaky breath. He had no way to defend himself. Even he couldn’t defend what he had done.

“That was a long time ago.” He said truthfully.

You shook your head.

“It doesn’t matter. You still did it.” You said calmly. You couldn’t have screamed even if you wanted to.

He was at a loss. He really knew that this was probably it. He couldn’t even blame you for it.

“And then you just watched...and let Negan kill two innocent people? And then allowed Negan to further traumatize that boy?” You asked incredulously; “He’s a kid, Simon.”

Tears were streaming both of your faces now. You weren’t looking at him. Your head was lowered and you stared at the tips of your shoes. Your heart was beginning to crack. The more you spoke, the deeper it went. Your voice cracked in sorrow, and your head ached.

“The worst part is even after all that...I still fucking love you,” You admitted; “Do you know how messed up that is?”

He almost chuckled, but he knew better than to. It wasn’t an amused laugh by any means, but he knew what you meant. He walked carefully towards you, standing just a foot or so in front of you. You refused to look at him still.

“We can move past this.” He said, in a final attempt to get you to stay.

You looked at him finally, because you really wanted to read his expression for this.

Your heart panged in your chest

“Can we?” You asked seriously.

His hesitation and lack of an answer told you that he really didn’t know. The fact that there was any question at all was enough for you. You had to leave. You brushed past him to grab your backpack.

Your heart cracked a little more.

You slung it on your shoulders. He wasn’t putting up a fight, because he knew it was over. You stopped in front of him once more, looking into his watery eyes. If nothing else, you wanted to give him a proper goodbye. Even if he didn’t deserve it.

You kissed him.

It was deep and slow and full of hurt. It was the most painful kiss you had ever had. He knew it was the last time. He’d likely never see you again. Never feel your skin or wake you up in the mornings by leaving kisses on your neck.

This was it.

You pulled away first. Not looking at him again. You had to leave now before you were tempted to stay. You walked past him and out your bedroom door, leaving behind your greatest and only love you’d ever know. The door closed with a loud echo.

Your heart completely broke.

You cried and cried as you walked out of the Sanctuary. One single thought running through your mind over and over.

Things really could change.

#simon #simon x reader #the walking dead simon #twd simon #simon twd #simon the walking dead #simon twd x reader #simon twd fanfic #simon twd imagines #twdbegins

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yikestripes · 4 years

Text

Satisfying

@dissatisfactionbuthuman here you go !! i really ran with this request LOL

i actually have the cracking thing i was referring to- it’s called hip dysplasia but there’s also a shoulder type (i have both)

request: Omg can you please do a fic where Spence has a kink for something super common for the reader to do like stretching or something and she keeps doing it around him accidentally!?

word count: 1,566

warnings: talks of kinks? nothing really, sliiiight hints at smut.

You raised your arms high above your head, hearing a satisfying crack come from your shoulder joints. You resumed your paperwork, not knowing that you had caught Spencer’s attention. A small blush crept up to his cheeks as he turned back to his own work, trying to ignore the thoughts that were itching at the back of his mind. You rose shortly later, a resounding crack from your hip sounded as you walked past Spencer’s desk, and he swore you started doing it on purpose. You two had only been dating for about 2 months, after a long drawn out confession had taken place one night after an especially long jet ride home. There was no way you knew about one of Spencer’s most guarded secrets yet; he never told anyone about his cracking kink, and he definitely didn’t intend to scare you off so quickly by telling you now.

The only question was, did you somehow find out and now were trying to tease him with it? There was no way. He had made sure not to tell anyone else in the office and unless you were a mind reader, there was no way. He abandoned the thought for the better part of an hour before you were all called to the conference room for a briefing.

Good. Spencer thought. This will definitely take my mind away from everything- especially her. You sat by his side and let your hand come to rest on his forearm, something you would do every time you were near each other. It was a simple gesture, whether it was to remind her that Spencer was all hers, other women, or just to remind herself that he was still there, it didn’t really matter. Spencer took your hand under the table to save yourselves from a look from Hotch regarding your ability to work together, which you’d received more times than either of you would like to admit.

You looked back and smiled at Spencer, who was chewing his lip as he was clearly thinking about something that was not related to the case. You squeezed his hand gently to grab his attention, but he shook his head slightly and offered you a tightlipped smile. He was acting strange, especially for Spencer, but you shrugged it off and pretended to pay attention to the rest of the case. You could study up on the plane; first, you had to figure out what was bothering your boyfriend.

As soon as Hotch announced wheel’s up, you were already out of the conference room, sitting on Spencer’s desk with your go bag in hand.

“What’s up, Spence?” You asked, raising your eyebrows.

“N-nothing,” He said, offering you a real smile. You narrowed your eyes at his retreating back, but decided it was better not to push it.

The jet ride was completely uneventful; you, Spencer, JJ, and Emily traded theories back and forth about the latest sicko while discussing whether or not the latest kidnapped victim was dead or not. You announced your desire for coffee, standing up and going to the back of the plane; another crack from your hip rang out as you felt a small release in your back. You had joint problems that stemmed from sports and an undiagnosed disorder that affected a few if not all of your biggest joints, including your shoulders and hips. This was the cause for all of the popping and cracking every time you moved a stiffened joint.

Little did you know, you were driving Spencer absolutely wild- more so than usual, that is.

“Hey, JJ- Has (Y/N) a-always, um, cracked like that?” He asked, trying to make his desires less obvious.

“What do you mean?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Um, well, whenever she stands up after sitting for some time or moves her arm suddenly…” Spencer trailed off.

“I guess so. She told me that she has some thing in her joints that cause that, why? Does it freak you out?” She grinned.

Spencer’s eyes widened.

“U-uh,” He swallowed hard. “I mean I guess so, yeah. Is that weird?” He lowered his voice.

“Not at all! It used to absolutely DISGUST my cousin whenever i’d crack my neck or my back around her. It’s some sort of phobia I think,” Spencer breathed a sigh of relief when he realized what she was saying.

“What’s disgusting?” You asked, handing Spencer the other mug in your hand.

“Oh, we were just talking about how cracking joints disgust some people. Our dear doctor apparently isn’t too fond of it!” She said with a laugh.

“You never told me that,” You said, suddenly feeling slightly self conscious.

“Well I-I never thought about bringing it up before, I guess.” He took a long sip from the mug before excusing himself. You burned holes into the back of his head as he headed towards the bathroom.

“That was weird.” You muttered, reopening the case file.

***

“Looks like our unsub decided to dump the body in a hurry,” Spencer announced, pulling on a pair of gloves.

“Yeah, this is a pretty foot-traffic heavy area so I guess someone was coming.” You responded.

“It completely forced them to change their M.O, they didn’t have time for the rest of their usual ritual.”

Your knee cracked as you crouched down next to the body, grimacing at the sound.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, looking up at Spencer. He rubbed a gloved hand on your shoulder blade and smiled.

“No need to apologize, my love. Hey- what’s that shiny thing?” He pointed to a dangling silver necklace that was hooked on a nearby branch.

“Oh, this must have been the necklace she was wearing the morning of the kidnapping. It’s amethyst,” You placed it in a bag and handed it to one of the crime scene investigators, removing a glove to call Hotch.

The rest of the investigation had been pretty easy, the unsub had been lingering around the dumpsite for a little longer than he should have, just to get off from his crime a few more times. You stood outside of the small farmhouse, looking over the sea of flashing lights and reporters that surrounded the crime scene.

You tilted your head and earned a satisfying crack from your neck, and did the same on the other side.

“Oof,” Spencer whispered, grimacing.

“Does it really bother you that much? I didn’t realize you were standing right-” Spencer cut you off with a kiss, mid sentence.

“It doesn’t bother me at all.”

“But JJ said on the plane-” He placed his hands on your shoulders, and leaned forward so your foreheads were touching.

“I was lying, (Y/N). I don’t hate the sound of cracking, I, uh…” He trailed off and licked his lips, breaking eye contact. Your eyes widened as he looked down at the ground.

“Spencer Reid do you have a k-” Spencer’s own eyes widened as he clapped his gloveless hand over your mouth.

“Shhh!” He said as you glared.

“What?”

“I don’t want the entire state of Texas to know!” He hissed. You rolled your eyes.

“Alright alright, I won’t say anything. How long has this been going on? Since before we were dating? My joints crack literally ALL the time.” You thought back to earlier that morning, when he could barely take his eyes off of you while you were doing paperwork. You had gone back and forth to the copy machine probably 3 separate times, various joints in your legs cracking each time you stood up. Spencer swallowed and offered a small grin.

“Does it bother you?” He asked, his brown eyes gleaming.

“No! No. It’s absolutely fine. I just wish I had more control of when it happens,” You lowered your voice and cocked a single eyebrow. Spencer bit his lip when Morgan started calling out to you from across the field.

“Hey, Lovebirds, get over here! We’re leaving.” You winked at Spencer and walked in Morgan’s direction, pausing to crouch quickly, earning you a small crack. Spencer dropped his jaw and kept close behind you, causing you to giggle.

“You’re the worst.” He muttered in your ear.

“Mmmmhm,” You hummed.

You boarded the plane shortly after, sitting down in the back, and immediately taking off your shoes and curling your legs underneath you. Spencer sat next to you and pulled out a book. Very quickly into the flight, you got bored. You looked around the cabin and the majority of the team was asleep, save for Hotch, who was filling out the remaining paperwork with the help of Rossi. Spencer was still reading beside you, running his thumb across your knuckles without breaking his concentration. Suddenly, you felt the urge to crack your fingers. You grinned mischievously and took your hand back.

You started by cracking your index finger, which he either didn’t hear or actively chose to ignore. You cracked your middle finger and ring finger, which caused a blush to rise in his cheeks. You cracked the rest of your hand and got to work on the other when he finally gave you the attention you were searching for. He set his book down on the table in front of you and looked at you, and raised his eyebrows. You grinned wider and wiggled your eyebrows.

“Later, we’ll be home in 20 minutes tops.” He whispered in your ear. You saved the rest of your cracking for when you got home, because you had a ton pent up.

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