Far From Home - I

badboy!yeonjun x innocent!reader 

word count: 21k

angst, fluff, smut

when your teacher asked you to tutor in the beginning of the school year, you were hesitant even then. 

you knew that it meant your lunch period and one study hall for the day were gonna be completely booked, helping younger kids grasp the basic idea that the mitochondria was the powerhouse of the cell.

but then you met one young girl desperate to pass her first test in october and knew your teacher had gotten you, sending a small, defeated smile her way as you gave her the okay to put your name on the list. 

you didn’t expect to come back from winter break with the news that the next student you’d be tutoring wasn’t a sweet 7th grade girl but none other than choi yeonjun. 

Keep reading

Poly!Yugbam

Requested: anon asked: um hey I wanted ask if you could do a poly BamBam and Yugyeom from GOT7 please? thank you!

Pairing: Got7 Bambam x Yugyeom x Reader

Warnings: nsfw implications

Thank you for your patience ♡ I finally got inspiration for this. I did try to get it out in time for their comeback (which is a.m.a.z.i.n.g) butttttt yeaahh

Keep reading

john, johnny seo (m)

Pulling his legs up on the couch, he wraps himself up in a ball, chin resting atop his knees. There’s a cool breeze passing through the living room from the balcony where Mark and Haechan jump around, helping you put up washing. You always call on them at times like these, their energy tenfold that of their hyungs and most importantly, their willingness to help. He hears you yelp as Haechan drops a white pillow case, quickly warning him about playing around with Taeyong’s linens and he apologises just as fast. Mark sniggers just out of your view, Haechan sticks out his tongue. Then you’re all laughing again, the two of them handing you sheets then running back inside as you slide the balcony door shut.

Your gaze doesn’t even pass Johnny’s as you sit, wedged between the couch’s arm and Jaehyun, shifting as you make room for Jungwoo, who rushes to sit on the ground between your legs. He practically purs at your touch, the back of his head resting on your knee as you scratch his scalp, sending him to sleep in mere seconds. Jaehyun just leans into you, his freshly washed hair flicking cold drops on you when you push him off, he flinches at the obvious threat in your eye. When he pouts in apology, your lips purse, holding back a grin as he offers you one, pushing his hair back before you finally let him relax into you again.

A few moments pass before you ask Doyoung to explain the plot of the drama he’s watching, unfamiliar with it though interested. Usually annoyed by interruptions, Johnny suspects he’ll refuse. But to his surprise, Doyoung pauses it, divulging everything he can conjure from his memory alone before rewinding through the current episode to give you context, names, settings. Johnny loves how engrossed you are in what Doyoung’s saying. How your hands never cease scratching Jungwoo’s scalp, how you keep the motion steady as your jaw drops, giving small nods as you follow his narrative, the drama astounding you.

You ask if you can watch too, and this is when Yuta interrupts, talking about football starting soon and Doyoung having already hogged the television this week. A fight for the controller breaks out. Nothing too crazy but you’re mindful of a sleeping Taeyong, his balled up figure not far from where Johnny sits. A hush falls over the room when you silence them, their eyes journeying to his dozing frame before they give up, offering you the remote. With a tilt of your head, you gesture towards Taeil, who just hovers behind the couch, unbothered.

This was a regular non-work day in the 127 household. The world spinning, life continuing. There’s so much domesticity here, and that makes life all the more enjoyable. Johnny thinks you have had something to do with that. How you dote on Haechan yet still see through his charm. How you care for Mark, and praise him constantly. How you pamper Jungwoo, your gentle touch settling him. How you challenge Jaehyun yet soothe him with your words. How Doyoung can confide in you, his every thought yours for the taking. How Yuta crumbles for you and gives you your way. How Taeyong finds peace in you and safety in your nurturing. How Taeil has an ally in you, a companion, a friend.

And Johnny?

He didn’t really know. You cared for him deeply. He knew that. Not the way you did everyone else, just in the way you trusted him. To step up when he had to. Whether it be caring for the youngest or shouldering responsibility for the eldest. You’d begun to rely on Johnny how you didn’t anyone else. But that didn’t mean he didn’t need you like they did. Sure, Johnny could take care of himself and everyone else. He found joy in being someone they needed, in being their support. But, there are days where he too craves your soft touch and praise. Where he wants to lay his head on the soft skin of your thighs and feel your hands in his hair, a song filling the air as you stroke the expanse of his cheeks, a finger trailing the highest points of them before you leave a soft kiss.

Johnny wants your attention. He craves it. Like the rest do but so much more. He wants you to look for him in a room of people and go to him. He wants you to be his refuge. He wants you.

“John?” But for starters, he wants you to call him Johnny. “Hey, are you okay?”

It’s nearing midnight and he’s standing in the center of your room, while you hover at your door. When he doesn’t say anything, you approach him, closing the door behind you. He slept in here when you were off on a schedule and he forgot his charger. He’s holding it in one hand while his other inspects a photo, it’s of the members - minus him.

“Noona, why don’t you like me?”

You don’t think you hear him right—no. You definitely didn’t. So you walk around him to find he’s crestfallen, a frown you can’t stand the sight of taking his face. “What do you mean?”

“Like the others. You don’t treat me like them.”

You look at the picture and immediately return to that day. You’d all been walking the streets of LA, the sun was high but so were your spirits. You remember his camera never once left his hand, always snapping shots of you all. He’d been the one to take the photo. That’s why you loved it. He captured you all so well, his eye for lighting and skilful focus. Johnny did everything so well. It was hard to believe you were his senior. He had always been just that bit better than you in every way and yet, it’s only now you’re seeing what that is doing to him.

“You treat the members like you love them more than me.” The idea he felt less loved by you made your breath shake, his eyes still not meeting yours. “Do you not care about me?”

“How can you say that?” He looks up then, the hurt on your face making him regret it instantly.

“You don’t talk to me like you talk to them. You don’t even call me Johnny. You don’t play with me or hang out with me. You never ask me to do anything or want my help at home. It’s like I don’t even exist.” He doesn’t realise this all upsets him until now. Now he sees a version of the group without him. A version that you might see in your mind. “Am I just your colleague?”

“Johnny.” He doesn’t think you’ve ever scolded him. Not once. He hates it. “Don’t. Don’t ever say that.” He’s hot under your gaze. The way your brows crease, the anger in your eyes. He doesn’t know at what. At him, yourself. But he can’t lie, the attention is nice. “Of course you aren’t. You’re so much more than that.”

“Then why?” It’s barely even a whisper, but you hear him, the want. The need. “Do you think I don’t need you like they do? That I don’t need you to hold me when I’m sad? To t-touch me?”

This isn’t Johnny. Not the one you’re used to. The loud, boisterous Johnny who, and though now you think you’re wrong, is immovable. Independent Johnny, who you wished and prayed to be more like than anyone. Johnny who you envied for his resilience and his drive. Johnny who intimidated you for so long. He saw the good in literally everything. It drove you a little insane, the idea you’d never meet his standard. That there existed someone so impenetrable, you would always be lesser.

But then, maybe that was never Johnny. That was the Johnny you made him out to be. The Johnny you unknowingly pushed him to be. The Johnny he thought you needed. That was John.

This is is Johnny.

Johnny’s eyes bore into yours. They’re pained and so frighteningly lonely yet so breathtaking. As if there’s been so much behind them and your forced image and expectation of him kept it there. If you dwell on it too much, it might crush you beyond repair. So you rid yourself of it. The idea this was a man who could carry the weight of the world because he merely acted like he could. You forget what you thought. You just accept what you see.

Johnny needs you.

You raise a careful hand to his cheek, shocked by how quickly he responds. He nuzzles into your open palm, shuddering breaths leaving him as he sinks into your touch. It’s a sight to behold. The skin that smooths between his brow, the slight lift of the corners of his mouth. You feel like you’re like this for hours, your arm grows tired. Your heart constricts when you pull it away and he whimpers, his hands twitching at his sides as if he wanted to stop you.

“It’s okay.” You whisper, his eyes following you as you move to your bed. “Can we sit down?” He just follows you, the bed dipping on your left as you watch him sit. “Johnny?” He turns, his eyes following as you lay down. “Do you want to cuddle?”

He nods then, embarrassment filtering in at the idea. Had you really never done this with him? You shake your head, happy to have it happen at long last. You pull his head to your chest, his arms loop around your middle so naturally you wonder if you’d been mistaken. Until his legs do the same, winding with yours. The feeling is unfamiliar though welcomed. How thick his thighs feel between your own, how long his limbs are. He is undoubtedly huge yet he fits so perfectly around you, you can’t help but think you were made to be his comfort. He squeezes you tighter as you shift, your giggles filling the air as he nuzzles himself further into your breasts. This isn’t new for you. It was awkward in the early days, but it’s far from that now.

Running your fingers through his hair, you giggle as he groans, the deep rumbles are again, nothing new.

You offer a slight tug for his attention, thinking it might be about time to talk. To acknowledge your mistakes.

It’s now you realise how new this is for him. How his cheeks flush against your chest and hands on your hips are brand new sensations for him. Your dull nails scratching along his scalp and gentle snag on the ends. They all make his eyes hooded, his breaths a bit ragged as he gulps, looking up at you. “Sorry.” You immediately know what he’s sorry for. It’s pressing on your thigh. It’s firm and painfully obvious. You just smile, stroking a thumb along his cheek and staring into his eyes.

“It’s okay, Johnny.” He thinks you might be an angel. How gentle you are, how understanding. But he thinks you might be fallen when you ask him, “Do you want me to take care of it?”

He should say no. You’d done everything he needed and more. He hadn’t meant he needs you for this. This is more of a want. This isn’t something he needs but it’s what he’s always wanted. And he knows it’s stupid, he knows you just feel bad and he knows it’s desperate. He knows he’ll hate himself. That blurring the lines between you any further won’t satisfy him. But you’re here, waiting, with kind eyes that hold him captive. Your fingers still card through his hair, moving it out the way for you to get a better look at him. No. You’re not just looking at him. You’re seeing him. It’s all he ever wanted. He decides he likes getting what he wants.

His nod is ever so slight, you only see it because of how attentive you are to him. You feel it in your hands, the small shift in his neck. You hear it in the sheets, the fabric moving with him. He watches you smile at him, your offer no longer hanging in the air though the insinuation does. He’s scared he missed your point, frightened he’d messed this up. But then your eyes drift. And you’re not just watching him, but staring. At his lips. The small part in them, where he draws small, careful breaths. And you’re moving, bringing yours to his in a kiss so soft, he can’t help but flinch. At how fragile you think him to be. How differently you see him now.

“I won’t break you know.” He teases with a small laugh, his hands gripping your hips a tiny bit harder, as if showing you the force he could handle. “I can take it.”

“Johnny,” his smile falls slightly, noting the hints of sadness in your eyes. “I’m sorry I put so much pressure on you. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.” He doesn’t want to cry. He isn’t broken. He’s just lonely. But then your voice cracks and he thinks he just might. “I want to show you I’m sorry. I-I want to be what you need.”

That’s all he wants. But he can’t help feel overwhelmed by the affection. The intimacy he’s wanted for so long, pouring out of you like a faucet. He trusts you though. That you’ll take good care of him. That you’d know what he wants. That he’d be in the safest hands. So he nods as he leans in, his hunger cloaked by desperation as his lips mould with yours, your hands cupping his cheeks, fingers scratching his nape. A groan rumbles in him, pouring into your mouth as you press your thigh to his crotch, pulling back to watch his jaw clench. He watches your eyes fall to the space between you, his hips circling into your thigh as he watches you intently, his lip caught painfully between his teeth. He’s surprised when you moan at his actions, his pace slowly building before you stop him.

“Use me.” He’s lost because that’s already what he’s doing. “Use me, Johnny. Fuck me.” He doesn’t believe you. Not until you’re practically begging. “I-I want to help you. I want to be what you need. Fuck me. Please.” You press your forehead to his, fingers still digging into his hips, you’re so close his eyes cross. He sees the lust in your gaze though, it’s almost lethal. “You can use me. Please use me.”

Not a single part of him is torn. He’s practically trembling in anticipation at the thought, his hands scramble to free you of your shorts, stripping you in one swift motion, freeing himself nearly as quickly. He pauses as he sees holiness if your gaze, a reverence reflected back in your eyes. You nearly quiver, the once omnipotent being bared out for you. His hooded eyes and flushed cheeks. His leaking tip, twitching as you reach out to stroke your fingers along his abdomen. He nearly giggles at your touch, earning a soft one from you.

“You’ve always been so good for me, John.” He frowns, scared that is no longer the case. “Let me be good for you now.”

He leans down then, a hand balancing him beside your head, the other pumping him a few times. The feeling of your fingers on his skin is heavenly. How you squeeze his shoulders and stroke down his arms. Never a misplaced pressure. Your touch is planned yet free, your hands passing over the expanse of his back, enjoying the feel of him beneath your palms.

“You feel so good,” you whisper, his breath hitching. “You’re so good to me, Johnny. Thank you,” He presses his forehead to yours again, his nose rubbing against yours as you gaze up at him. “My perfect Johnny.” He kisses you to hide his blush, though the heat beneath your hands is a give away. “My perfect boy.”

He’s beaming. It’s the prettiest sight you’ve ever seen and you want to scream because you could’ve seen this all along. You could’ve made Johnny so happy and saved him the pain of—

“Don’t do that,” he says, seeing the regret in your eyes. “Forget about it. You know now.”

You do. And it dulls the pain for a moment, and his kiss numbs it but his cock sliding into you, wrapped snuggly in your slick walls, banishes it. You can think of nothing else. Nothing but the delicious sounds he fills your ears with. The grunts that pour out of him as you clamp around him. The kisses he peppers your lips with, his mind full of you.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks anyway, lips now concentrating on yours, his hips still. You nod, eager to please. “Where should I come?”

“Wherever you want.”

He’s in love. He ignores the brief thought as he tucks his arms under yours, craddling your head so he can rest his body on you, your chest heavy though your vision fills with him. His hips roll without warning. He moves them in small circles, his lips moving in time with yours, tongues tangle together. He deepens the kiss every time you whimper, the sound urging on his thrusts, the intimate winds of his hips abandoned as you scratched down his back, your hands squeezing his ass, pulling him further into you. Your lips slack as his thrusts increase in speed, the sound of skin slapping skin fills the room along with your whines. He isn’t muffling them anymore, he’s watching you. How your jaw hangs open, letting your whimpers pour out. With a small change in his angle, your eyes screw shut, making it harder for you to take his thrusts. He rises to lean on his hands, snapping his hips rapidly into you, his tip hitting the spot that has you crying out for him, all other sounds erased from his memory at the sound of that. John falls from your lips as you struggle to hold on. John trapped behind a moan as his thumb circles around your clit. John crawls its way up your throat before you open your eyes at his request, only to see him.

Johnny.

Who snaps into you for the final time as he lets go, his seed spilling into you. He fills you completely as you milk him, the walls of your cunt coated in your mingling arousal as you clamp around him, refusing to let him go. Not that he wants out. So you both just stay like this, his wet forehead pressed against yours, the air in the room cold on your damp skin.

You blink away the fatigue so you can see him, sighing contentedly when he beams down at you. You’ve seen him smile like this, but never at you. You want to see it always. “You okay?” He asks, wiping your forehead dry.

Nodding, you do the same, finding your palms just as wet. But yes, you are okay. And so is he.

Prom? (Elvis Presley x Reader)

summary: Elvis and reader are in high school together but are constantly annoying one another (Enemies to lovers?)

word count: 3.8k

warnings: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+)

I was walking down the hallway of our high school when I heard heavy footsteps pounding behind me as someone ran down the hallway.

“Y/N!” Elvis sang, jumping in front of me, halting my steps. He had his grin on full display.

I rolled my eyes “Yes, Presley?” 

“Go to prom with me.” 

I scoffed, shaking my head at him “No.” 

I side stepped him and continued walking.

“Why not?” He pouted, walking next to me.

“Aren’t you dating Dixie?” I hissed at him “Shouldn’t you take her to prom?”

“I’ll break up with her if you want doll.” He smirked.

I pushed his shoulder “No! That poor girl!”

“She won’t care.”

“She loves you. And we’re late for class!” I pushed him into our Math classroom.

“I see Mr. Presley has a bad influence on you Miss L/N! You’re both late, take a seat.” Mr. Sanders said as we walked in together. 

Elvis sat down and grinned, pointing at the seat next to him.

“You wish.” I mouthed to him and went to sit next to my friend Rachel. 

Elvis and I weren’t friends by any means but he’s been one of my classmates since freshman year and we were both seniors now. I think his favorite pastime was annoying me because he’s been doing it ever since. 

“Your test scores! Some good, some very bad.” Mr. Sanders said as he started passing out our test papers. 

I smiled seeing the A+ on mine. I looked at Elvis when I saw him put head now down and slam it softly against the desk. I couldn’t help but feel bad for him, he probably got a bad grade. 

The bell rang, dismissing the students and the professor but Elvis stayed with his head on his desk.

“You coming?” Rachel asked.

“Yeah, you go ahead.” I replied.

I picked up my back, swinging it over my shoulder and walked towards Elvis.

“Hey.” I said softly, placing my hand on his shoulder.

He slowly lifted his head up and looked at me “I failed.”

I sighed and sat next to him, taking the paper from him and looking over at his answers. 

“Y/N, if I fail the final I’m not going to graduate.” He said and went to slam his forehead back on the table but I put my hand on the desk so that he wouldn’t hurt his head. 

“Why are you being nice to me?” He asked, lifting his head back up again.

“I’m always nice to you.” I lied, biting back a smile.

Elvis chuckled and shook his head at me.

“There’s that smile!” I poked his cheek.

His cheeks flushed, turning dark red when I poked him.

“I’ll tell you what, to show you how nice I am to you. I will help you prepare for the final and make sure you have enough points to graduate.” 

His eyes softened as he looked at me “You’ll do that for me?” 

I shrugged “If you stay sad about your grades then who’s gonna annoy me every day?” 

He grinned “I knew you loved it!”

I laughed and got out of my seat “You wish Presley!”

“My place?” He asked. 

“Sure. Give me your address.” 

“Now I can tell everyone I’m taking Y/N home.” He winked. 

“You know what, you can forget it.” I replied, starting to walk away when he grabbed my hand.

“Wait, wait, wait. I’m sorry.” He laughs, squeezing my hand. 

I felt electricity shoot up my hand from him grabbing me and we both let go as if it just zapped us. 

I cleared my throat “I’ll see you after school.” I mumbled and left. 

I didn’t dislike Elvis, I actually thought he was cute and had a really nice voice but we were constantly annoying each other and trying to top one another. He had changed so much, he used to be so shy. He still is but not with me, he’s definitely outspoken when he’s with me. Always asking me out on dates or leaning in to kiss my cheeks just for a laugh. I swear I wanted to strangle him sometimes. 

Later that evening I took my father’s car and headed for Elvis’ place. I knocked on the door and waited.

“I got it!” I heard Elvis yell, followed by loud footsteps of someone running “Hey.” He grinned once he opened the door. 

I smiled “Ready to have the worst tutor you’ve ever had?” 

He laughed, opening the door wider for me to walk in “Definitely the prettiest tutor I’ve ever had.” He smirked leaning against the door frame.

“Shut up Presley.” I shoved his shoulder, biting back a smile. 

As I walked in Elvis’ mom walked out of the kitchen and smiled once she saw me.

“Hi, you must be Y/N! Elvis talks about you all the time!” She said and pulled me in for a hug.

“Mom.” Elvis grumbled.

I laughed and hugged her back “I bet its all bad things.”

“Thank you for helping my son out, that’s very kind of you.” She said once she pulled away from the hug. 

“I’ll make sure he’s right next to me at graduation.” I smiled. 

“Okay, come on. Let’s go to my room.” Elvis said, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards his room. There’s that electricity again, it felt so weird but I pretended like I didn’t feel anything.

“It was nice meeting you Mrs. Presley.” I said, as Elvis pulled me with him.

“Call me Gladys, honey.” She smiled and walked back to the kitchen. 

“Can we make out now?” Elvis asked, once he shut his bedroom door.

I grinned, wanting to mess with him. I walked towards him and placed a hand on his chest “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

“What?” He asked, looking at me with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. 

“In your dreams Presley. Now, where’s your Math book?” I said, leaning back from him. 

He pouted and pulled out his book from his backpack. We sat on the floor and I pulled out his midterms to see his weak points. 

We worked on solving some problems for the next two hours, Gladys coming in to bring us snacks and drinks every once in a while. 

“Okay, last question for today. Very important because you didn’t get any points on it on the midterm.”

“Finally.” Elvis replied.

“What? Are you not having fun hanging out with me Presley?” I teased. 

“Oh I’ve imagined you in my bedroom a thousand times but not like this.” He replied.

“How do you imagine me in your bedroom?” I raised my eyebrow.

He grinned and crawled over to me “I imagine you naked, under me.” He whispered, his face so close to mine. His hands on either side of my body. 

I leaned forward and whispered in his ear, his scent hitting me hard. He smelt so good and manly “Do you imagine me instead of Dixie?” 

Elvis grunted, releasing a breath. 

“Now can we go back to this so that I can go home?” I said, pushing him away from me.

Elvis cleared his throat and went back to siting next to me while I explained the last problem.

I explained the problem and asked him if he got it, without looking up at him.

I turned to look at him to see him staring at me intently with his mouth slightly open.

“Presley.” I said.

He nodded.

“Hey.” I said and waved a hand in front of his face.

“Huh?” He asked, blinking and refocusing.

“Did you get it?”

“Uh, no. Can you repeat it?” He asked.

“Yeah, pay attention.” 

Elvis and I spent the next couple of months with the same routine. I would come over twice a week and tutor him. He stopped flirting as much and we had actually started becoming friends, I enjoyed hanging out with him but I think I started developing a crush on him. However, I would never do anything to pursue because he had a girlfriend and it was unfair to Dixie. Even my best friend Rachel started teasing me about my newfound friendship with Elvis saying that I never hated him and never found him annoying. She said we’re meant to be and it’s going to happen eventually. I told her she was insane and nothing could ever happen between Elvis and me. Obviously I didn’t tell her about my crush but I know Elvis does not look at me like that. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to prom with me? You know I’m a good dancer.” Elvis said leaning next to my locker. 

“Oh I’ve seen how you dance.” I replied, taking my books out of my locker. 

“So you agree?!”

“Yeah, I’m not blind.” I smirked, looking at him. 

“Does it make you want to throw your drenched panties at me?” He smirked, leaning closer to me. 

“I don’t even dare to wear panties to your performances because they’re ruined the moment I see you.” I replied, batting my eyelashes. 

Elvis squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head back, grunting “Fuck doll, don’t say things like that.” He rasped. 

I laughed, shutting my locker and walked away from him. 

“Seriously though, are you going with someone?” He asked, running up to catch up to me. 

“Yup.” I replied.

“Really?” He asked, sounding slightly upset.

I furrowed my brows and looked at him, why was he upset.

“Who’s the unlucky guy?” He asked. 

“I might go with my friend Rachel, if she doesn't find a date.” I replied, rolling my eyes. Rachel most probably was going with someone.

“Oh poor Y/N, can’t get a guy to take you to prom?” Elvis pouted, poking my cheek.

I frowned and smacked his hand away “I can get any guy, I just don’t want to.”

“Oh really?” 

“Yeah. You want me to prove it?” I asked him, stopping in the middle of the hallway. 

“No.” He frowned “You don’t need to prove it. I believe you.” 

“No, it’s fine.” I smiled at him “I can prove it.”

“Y/N. I believe you.” Elvis growled. 

I looked around and spotted one of Elvis’ friends Reiner. He was cute and I used to have a small crush on him. 

“Oh look, there’s cute Reiner.” I smirked, pointing at Reiner where he stood by his locker “Do you think he’d like to go to prom with me?”I smiled sweetly. 

“Y/N. I was kidding.” He said. 

“Hey Reiner!” I called out.

“Y/N. Stop.” Elvis said, scowling. He gripped my arm when I went to walk to Reiner. 

I shrugged his hand off and walked towards Reiner. 

“Hey Y/N.” Reiner smiled “What’s going on?”

“Are you going with anyone to prom?” I asked. Praying he didn’t already have a date because it would be so embarrassing to have to face Elvis after that. 

“Uh no.” He smiled, scratching the back of his neck.

“Do you want to go with me?” 

“Um.” Reiner hesitated, looking back at Elvis “He’s gonna kill me.” He muttered more to himself which made me frown.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing! I would love to be your date!” Reiner grinned. 

I looked back at Elvis and grinned. Elvis clenched his jaw and stormed off. 

I had to let Rachel know that I was going with Reiner which she was so excited about because she knew about my previous crush on him, she wasn’t upset whatsoever especially since a guy from our grade ended up asking her to prom. Reiner and I matched our prom outfits with one another. I wore an emerald green poofy dress that reached right above my ankle while Reiner wore a black tuxedo with the same shade of green tie. 

“Hey.” I smiled at Reiner when he came to pick me up.

“Wow. You look amazing, Y/N.” He smiled. 

“Thank you. You look good!” I opened the door wider for him “Come in, we’ll take some pictures and head out.” 

Dad ended up giving him a shake down to make sure no shenanigans were going to happen which he had nothing to worry about, I wasn’t about to lose my virginity to a guy I barely know. 

We walked in and right away I spotted Elvis with Dixie, he looked so handsome. He wore a pink suit and it was really cute. For some reason, him wearing pink made him way more attractive to me. I know if any other guy would’ve done that, they wouldn’t be able to pull it off. I felt guilt and jealousy creep onto my chest once I saw him dancing with Dixie. I shouldn’t have flirted with him when I knew he was with someone else. I felt like a horrible person because I knew if someone did that with my boyfriend I would be furious. Technically, flirting was considered cheating. 

Elvis and I made eye contact and quickly looked away from each other.

“Let’s dance?” Reiner asked, stretching his hand out to me. 

“Yeah.” I breathed and forced a smile on my face. 

Here I am, dancing with a sweet guy but my thoughts kept drifting back to the devil with ocean blue eyes. 

Elvis and I avoided each other the entire night, choosing to only hang out with Rachel and her date. Reiner would also go to his friends and come back to us. Just as Reiner walked off to go to the bathroom, a slow song started playing. 

“Can I dance with you doll?” I heard Elvis’ voice float from behind me.

I turned and smiled “Sure.” 

He smiled back and wrapped his arms around my waist while I wrapped my arms around his neck. I loved the feel of his strong arms around my waist.

“Are you mad at me?” I asked him after a little while. 

“No.” He sighed. 

“You look beautiful by the way.” He said, looking sincere “The most beautiful girl actually.” 

I smiled slightly, looking into his blue eyes which made my heart race. I couldn’t help but glance down at his pouty lips. 

“Elvis.” I sighed “We can’t flirt with one another, even though its all jokes.”

Elvis frowned “Who said its jokes?”

“Look, it’s not fair for Dixie.” 

“Dixie and I broke up.” He sighed.

“What?” I looked at him with wide eyes “Just now?” My heart sped up in excitement.

“Yeah.”

“Why?” I asked “I mean sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”

“She’s not the one I want. I want someone else.” He replied, his arms tightening slightly around my waist.

His words felt like a punch to the gut and my heart hurt with the thought of him pining over another girl.

“Can I cut in?” Reiner said, coming into view.

“No.” Elvis replied.

“Dude, she’s my date.” Reiner replied. 

“So?” Elvis scoffed, his hands still around my waist “You asked a question, I answered.”

“The question was directed to Y/N. Not you.” Reiner growled. 

“Presley. It’s okay.” I smiled softly at him and whispered to him, making sure Reiner couldn’t hear “Go look for that girl you want and dance with her.”

Elvis gulped and reluctantly let go of my waist. I saw sadness and hurt flash in his eyes. Was the girl he wanted with someone else? 

Elvis walked away with his head down as Reiner took his place. I kept my eyes on Elvis as he walked to drinks table and sipped on a cup of punch. Slowly Reiner leaned in to kiss me. I leaned back and cleared my throat “Um, I’m sorry Reiner. I-I have to go.” I said when saw Elvis walk out of the gym. 

I ran after Elvis but when I reached the parking lot, he was already gone. I sighed and went to a payphone calling home for my dad to come pick me up. 

We had a few weeks before our maths final and Elvis was kind of avoiding me. He would leave class early and show up late so I didn’t have the chance to see him. 

I instead went to his house and knocked on the door. 

Gladys opened the door and smiled warmly when she saw me.

“Hi Gladys.” I smiled “Is Elvis here?” 

“Yeah, come on in.”

“Elvis! Y/N, is here!” She called out while I waited in the living room for him.

“Hey.” He said, walking out of his room “What are you doing here?” 

“To study?”

He shook his head “Don’t worry about it. You don’t need to tutor me anymore.”

“But we only have a few weeks left.” I frowned. 

“It’s okay, you’re off the hook Y/N.” He said and started to walk away.

“Hey!” I said and grabbed his hand “Come on. You can do it, I believe in you Elvis.”

He turned and looked at me with a shocked expression “What?”

“What?” I asked him, confused.

“You called me Elvis.” He smiled softly, his demeanor changing.

“Would you prefer if I called you Presley?” I asked.

“No.” He shook his head “I like hearing my name on your tongue.” 

I chuckled and shook my head at him “Can we go study now, Elvis?”

“Fine.” Elvis rolled his eyes with a smile on his face. 

The day before the exam, we ended up pulling an all nighter. I was on his bed while he was siting on the floor.

“Okay, I’ll give you 30 minutes to complete the practice test.” I said, he nodded and started solving. I was lying down on his bed and closed my eyes just to rest my eyes because I was exhausted. I ended up falling asleep while Elvis solved the math problems. 

I yawned, my eyes fluttering open. I frowned, my eyes roaming around to see where I was. Then I spotted Elvis asleep next to me, his arm over my waist, cuddling into my back. 

“What the hell!” I exclaimed and slapped his arm, getting up and off the bed. 

“Ouch!” He mumbled, slowly opening his eyes.

“What the hell are you doing Elvis!” I said and checked the time, it was 3AM. My parents are so going to kill me but I told them I might pull an all nighter to study and that they shouldn’t worry because both Gladys and Vernon were home. 

“You were on the floor solving the practice questions!” 

Elvis sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes “Yeah and when I was done you were asleep, you looked too peaceful and cute. I didn't dare to wake you up.” Elvis shrugged. 

“Okay, how did you end up on the bed next to me?” I asked, placing my hands on my hips.

“I was cold.” He shrugged, smiling sheepishly. 

I rolled my eyes and took a seat on the floor “I’ll check your answers and then I’ll leave if its good. I think we studied enough.”

“Are you ready?” I asked him as we stood outside of the classroom right before going in to take our maths final.

“No.” He said, slightly shaking.

“Hey.” I said and held both of his hands. He looked at our hands and looked back up at me, his eyes slightly glazed with nerves “You got this! I believe in you and you did so well on the practice questions.” 

“Really?” He asked, squeezing my hands. 

“Yeah. Come on, let’s go in.” I said. 

He gripped my hands tighter when I went to pull my hands “Will we still be friends after this?”

“Huh?” 

“I mean now that you don’t have to tutor me. Will I still see you?” He asked.

“Of course Elvis. I hope you consider me as your friend, because I certainly do.” I smiled at him.

“Okay good.” He smiled back “Let’s go in.” 

Elvis and I compared answers after the final and I think he did well if I did well because we had the same answers. We got our grades later that week. As we were leaving the class, the professor handed us our grades.

“What did you get?” I asked Elvis, waiting for him on the side of the hallway.

“I got an A! I’m graduating!” He grinned and pulled me into a hug.

I laughed and hugged him back while he twirled me around.

“I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.” He smiled softly, placing me on the floor but keeping his hands around my waist. 

I smiled and rubbed my hands up his arms “I’m so proud of you Elvis.”

“Go out with me.” He blurted. 

“I don’t know if you’re kidding or not.” I replied, talking slowly.

“I’m not.” He replied, tightening his arms around my waist “Please go out with me. I’ve been in love with you the moment I saw you, freshman year.”

I looked at him with wide eyes, my mouth gaping open.

“No girl had ever come close to making me feel what I feel when I see you, or when I touch you. I want to be around you all the time Y/N.” 

“Elvis-“ I started, feeling very overwhelmed with what he said. My heart was beating out of my chest. 

“Please.” He pleaded, his eyes filling with tears “Just one date.” 

I cupped his cheeks and smashed my lips onto his. He pulled me into him, closer while I wrapped my arms around his neck, playing with the little hairs on the nape of his neck. 

“I might have just been pretending to be annoyed by you Elvis.” I whispered over his lips.

He grinned “I knew it.” He said and kissed me again. 

“Did you know that I have a crush on you?” I asked him once we pulled away.

“You had a crush on me?!” He looked at me bewildered. 

I laughed “God we’re idiots.” 

“Kiss me again. I don’t think I’ll ever get over your lips.” Elvis said and pulled me back into him.

“So you’ll go out with me?” He asked.

“No.” I smirked, kissing him while he laughed over my lips.

I Would Walk 10,000 Miles To You

Summary: The first thing you notice about Jake "Hangman" Seresin when he rings your doorbell at 1:30 in the morning is that no matter the time of day, he is devastatingly handsome. The second thing you notice is that he is absolutely smashed drunk. You know your hands will be full dealing with your brother's friend tonight. Well, you suppose he might be your friend too.

Pairings: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick 

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: Falling in love with Brother's Best Friend (kinda), strangers to friends to lovers, pinning, Deployment, love confessions, Praise kink (if you squint), light angst, happy ending, Slight AirForce slander, drinking.

A/N: No use of Y/N this time. The readers' brother is also a pilot, call sign FreightTrain. I've been fiddling with this for a while, but I finally just decided to post it. I hope you enjoy it. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts and tags are always appreciated as well! I love reading through them.

You and Jake had become unlikely friends. Jake was one of your brother's college friends, having graduated from the Naval Academy the same year and then continuing to flight school together. You had met him once or twice over the years back then. You had always thought he was attractive, but you were just his friend's little sister. So, you never put much thought into him outside the occasional brief times your paths would overlap.

Then a few years later, when talking to your brother on the phone, you found out that Jake was on deployment, having a rough go of things. His dad couldn't be bothered or couldn't figure out how to send Jake any care packages, and his mom hadn't been in the picture for a long time, according to your brother.

Less than a week later, you had a care package on the way to him. You filled it with some generic snacks and items that your family had asked for over the years on their own deployments. You also sent a card with well wishes and signed it from your whole family.

At the last minute at the post office, you had thrown in a note to him asking that if he had any specific requests for items to please let you know, and then attached your phone number.

The thank you text message you received a few weeks later when he got the package was short, genuine, and sweet. You hadn't thought much more about it or him after that. Your goal had been accomplished of helping out your brother's friend and a serviceman.

Then a month or so later, you received a text from Jake again. It had been extremely tentative. He asked if you could send some specific sunscreen he liked, which didn't irritate his skin and a few other products. He also included that he would pay you for it and emphasized that if it was in any way an inconvenience, you didn't have to. Repeating at least twice to feel no obligation to fulfill the request.

What were you going to do, though? Leave this man alone without necessities that worked for him? Absolutely not. So you put together another care package with things he liked and started a new note on your phone titled Hangman's likes.

This time you signed the ‘thinking of you’ card from yourself. Hangman thanked you again once he got the package, asking to PayPal you the money, but you refused. Jake didn't like that, and it led to you having a playful argument. It was the first time he had actually called you on a deployment. You had answered the call, unsure, having forgotten what his voice had even sounded like after the years since you had a conversation with the man. Those long past meetings had been minimal interactions to start with.

"Hello?" You asked hesitantly, not sure the call wasn't a butt dial.

"Hello there. How are you?" His voice was quiet and deeper than you had remembered it. There was a slight crackle to the line, something not uncommon over long-distance wifi calls like this.

"Hi, Hangman. I am well. How are you doing? Holding up, I hope?"

"Yeah, I'm doing okay over here. A lot better now that you sent me all the good stuff."

"Well, my family and I want to help support you in any way we can. I promise it's not an inconvenience at all. I understand how hard it is what you're going through." You trailed off, not entirely sure what else to say.

"I really appreciate it, but I know how much everything costs. So, you need to let me pay you back." His voice was still kind but had a stern undertone like he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Absolutely not."

"I will get info from your brother," he all but growled the threat.

"I will tell him to not give it to you," You quickly reply. He huffed in frustration hearing that made you laugh.

"That's not very fair," Jake complained to you.

"Sorry, I'm not big on fairness when someone needs something," you told him kindly. You ended up talking for fifteen more minutes, asking about other things he might like in a care package, with him trying to evade your questions.

You told him you had to go, and he thanked you once again for being willing to support and help him out. He also threatened that he would find a way to pay you back once again. You found it hard to stop grinning after the conversation.

Knowing products only last so long, you set up a regular schedule to send Jake some items. Like clockwork, you would get thank you calls from him and harassment on how he could pay you back. Jake would also ask about your life, seeming genuinely interested. The conversations started to vary the more you talked. Your cards in each of his care packages became more personalized, beginning to fill with inside jokes.

At the end of that deployment, you felt an odd mixture of sadness and happiness. Of course, you were glad Jake would be back stateside and on regular duty, but it also seemed like the most obvious natural conclusion of this odd friendship that had developed.

For Jake's last care package, you filled it with stuff that would be most useful for traveling back to the United States. It was also the first care package you hadn't gotten a thank you call for since the initial one. 

Hangman minding his manners, had at least sent you an appreciative text.  It felt like a nail in a coffin moment. You had to fight off an abysmal mood for the rest of the week, reminding yourself that you were only helping your brother's friend out. It was never any more than that, and it never would be. Telling yourself that only helped so much, though.

You call Jake for the first time, upset almost two months later. You had opened your mail to find a letter with crisp blocky lettering giving your name and address. The return address was one Jake Seresin, with a US address you didn't recognize. Inside was a beautiful thank you card filled with Jake's same neat handwriting. It had a heartfelt thank you for what a difference you made on his deployment. It made your heart flutter.

What did not make your heart flutter and instead actually made your blood boil was the amount of money that had been stuffed into the card. Inside the card were way too many hundred dollar bills lined up and, on top of that, a visa gift card.

You were clicking the call button on his contact before you even made it back inside the house. The phone rang and rang. When he did pick up, his voice was crisp and business-like. It was almost unnerving to hear him so clearly, after being used to crackly spotty calls.

"This is Lieutenant Seresin."

"Tell me, did you always have this much audacity, or did you learn it in the academy?" You asked him, voice dripping with sarcasm. There was a long pause from him before he started chuckling.

"Well, hello to you too, Darlin. I haven't heard from you in a while."

Your stomach did not flip at the nickname; there was no possible way. You almost had to pinch yourself to focus back on the conversation.

"That isn't an answer, Hangman. You know it is not safe to send this much money in the mail. Plus, you know I didn't want to be paid back!"

"I knew if I wrote a check, you wouldn't cash or deposit it," he says. His voice is still teasing, and he is clearly enjoying one-upping you."

"I am sending this back to you."

"Absolutely not." The teasing in his voice was less present now. "If you don't want to see it as paying you back, fine. Then just look at it as a thank you for being one of the only things keeping me sane during deployment."

You sighed heavily into the phone, but your anger waned at his claim that you helped him. The silence stretches a little, and you feel acceptance slowly filling you.

"I am just not comfortable with it. You know there are other ways to say thank you. I would have been delighted with just a card." You told him.

"Oh really?" Jake asked, that amused tone coming back again. "What would some acceptable forms be then?"

"It's too late; you chose money."

"I'll brainstorm some other ideas then."

"No, you can't do anything else now."

He doesn't say anything to that, only hums into the phone.

"I'm so sorry to call you out of the blue like this. Are you busy?"

"No, not busy. I just got home from work,” he tells you.

"How is being back in the States?"

"Weird," Jake says honestly.

Before you know it, you two talk for another hour, and Jake feels like your friend again. You two talk every once in a while, and you finally start to think you might actually be real friends.

During his next deployment, you don't even hesitate to start sending him care packages again. Jake is just as thankful; each time he gets your care package, flowers are delivered to your door within a day or two. Then written thank you cards come at a much more delayed pace, postage from the other side of the world accompanied by Jake's clean handwriting and sweet messages. You much prefer it over the money he sent the first time.

The pattern continues through the whole deployment and two TAD also. This time your friendship never waned, only growing stronger. You still get flutters when talking to him sometimes. It never ventures beyond that, though, and you eventually give up trying to be flirty or hopeful something would develop between you two. Jake never seems interested in you that way, and sometimes it feels more like he sees you as a little sister than even a friend, which is a low blow.

However, it really starts to reach a breaking point when Jake excitedly tells you that he is getting restationed to a naval base in your area. The concept of being an in-person friend with Jake is foreign. At first, you aren't sure you can even handle it. Seeing his handsome face, wanting him, knowing what the products you have bought for him over the last two years smell like on his skin. Seeing how his eyes crinkle when he smiles and matching up his facial expression to different tones of voice you are familiar with, it is just as difficult as you imagined it would be.

You had tried to distance yourself initially, rationalizing that you were too busy to fit a new friend in your life. However, this never worked with him; he would go above and beyond to accommodate whatever weird schedules you would throw at him. This is how he became more of a best friend to you. The whole situation really came to a boil on a Friday night in August.

The first thing you notice about Jake "Hangman" Seresin when he rings your doorbell at 1:30 in the morning is that no matter the time of day, he is devastatingly handsome. The second thing you notice is that he is absolutely smashed drunk.

"Jake?" You ask him like he might disappear and this is just a dream.

"Hello, Darlin," His accent is three times as thick after drinking, and he sways a little where he is standing. His hair was messy, and his eyes had a glassy glazed-over look to them.

You quickly look around, trying to figure out how he got here. There wasn't a car in sight, though, which was somewhat of a relief. At least you knew that he hadn't driven by the lack of his truck.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted," he starts to say but then abruptly snaps his mouth closed. His face scrunches like he is trying really hard to concentrate. He closes his eyes for a moment, and when they open again, he looks a bit like a lost puppy. "I don't know."

You sigh and wrap your arms around yourself, throwing open the door and ushering him into the house. "How about you come in?"

A grin instantly split his face, and he walked through your door, brushing extremely close to you, ignoring the ample space you left for him to go through the door. He went to your kitchen and slumped into one of the bar stools at the breakfast bar. You closed the front door, locking it before following after him.

"How did you get here?" You asked.

"I walked."

"You walked from where?" You were wracking your brain, trying to think of anywhere close by he could have been and gotten this drunk.

"Was at Red Brick Rhythm," he tells you, his face propped up on one of his hands, his elbow planted firmly on the counter. Jake doesn't stop looking at you either, his eyes following your every move.

You fill up a glass of water and pour in some liquid IV before handing it to him, trying to place the club in your mind. Then you gasp, suddenly remembering where it is. "Jake, that's like five miles away."

He hummed noncommittally and took a big gulp of the water. He set it down half full now and was looking at you like he was waiting for some sort of prize at his effort. You are half tempted to tell him he is a good Lieutenant, but instead, you try to escape his gaze by looking in your fridge.

"Are you hungry?"

“I'm always ravenous, sweetheart," he tells you and winks. Jake makes you laugh, and you start to examine the contents of your fridge.

"What do you want then? I'm not sure I have much."

He didn't answer you, so you turned to find him staring at you again. Jake responds in a dead serious voice, ”I'll take anything you give me."

You sighed since that didn't help you but watched him fight to keep his eyes open and decided to throw some tater tots in the Airfryer real quick.

"No complaining with what you get then."

"Yes, ma'am," he responded, nodding his head slowly. The action made him close his eyes and take a deep breath.

You parked yourself against the counter, leaning back against it to examine him. "How are you feeling? Okay, do you need anything?"

His eyes open, and he slowly blinks at you a few times, and a severe frown suddenly mars his features. You want to run your fingers over the crease in his eyebrows and the shape of his lips until he smiles again. You almost have to physically shake your head to dislodge the thought from your brain.

"Did you have a date tonight?" He blurts out as if he finally noticed the makeup on your face and your hair that is still styled. He had caught you before you were ready to wash off the night. You hesitate for a moment, not sure you actually want to talk about it, but decide to tell him. You don't want Jake to think you couldn't find anything better to do on a Friday night than stay home.

"Yeah, I did."

"How was it?"

"It was good," you lied. It had actually been terrible.

The man you met from Hinge had shown up late and ditched the bill on you, unwilling to split it as you requested. On top of that, he had asked you three whole questions before he went on a rant for the rest of the date about what he thought women should and shouldn't be doing.

The lie you told Jake didn't ease the frown on his face, though, or the darkness in his eyes. His free hand drums against your countertop in a light staccato, drawing your eyes towards them and his academy graduation ring. "Couldn't be too good if you answered the door, and you're here alone."

"Who says I'm here alone?" You ask, raising an eyebrow. "There could be a satisfied man in my bed right now. Or maybe we did the deed, and he is already on his way home."

"You wouldn't have answered the door," Jake says slowly. You can see his drunk mind doing mental gymnastics at the possibility you presented to him. However, the severe look on his face eases significantly after that. "And you don't look satisfied, Darlin."

"I don't look satisfied?" you question him. This line of conversation was quickly entering a place you two had never gone before. "And you would know what that looks like, Hangman?" You tease him.

"I could make you very satisfied. No sane man would let you out of bed once he had you there, let alone this early at night. With your pretty little mouth still looking in perfect shape, I bet you didn't even make it to second base."

His damn fingers hadn't stopped their drumming on the counter, and suddenly they were the only thing filling your thoughts about how they would feel against you, in you. He also looks distracted, though, staring at you again. You bite your lip, trying hard to clear your mind to figure out how to redirect this conversation.

"Are you doubting my capabilities to satisfy you?" He questioned your words catching up with him. He stood up from the stool he had been sitting on, looking much steadier on his feet than when he showed up at your door.

"Don't think I could ruin that pretty makeup, tangle your hair, eat you out until you cried? Make you beg for me? You doubt I could make you forget your own name? Then put you back together again?" Every fiber of your being knew he could probably do every one of those things and not even put in much effort.

"No, I don't doubt your capabilities. Just…" you finally choked out and trailed off, feeling like there suddenly wasn't enough oxygen in the room.

"Just what?" He asked you, and his voice was sinfully deep.

"Just that you don't know when I look like that." You supply, the words were stilted and awkward.

"What if we found out together then? Me what you look like. And you, what it feels like."

He made to move closer to you, but you instinctually held up one of your hands, and he stopped freezing in place. You finally averted your gaze from him to the Airfryer dinging. You grabbed a plate and threw the tater tots on it, collecting some condiments from the fridge so Jake would have options.

He was still standing in the same spot and hadn't moved any closer in the process it took you to get the food. Jake’s bright eyes burning into your back.

You can't quite quell the heat simmering in you from the line of conversation. The sinful tone of Jake's voice. Of course, those were all things you wanted from him, things you imagined. But that wasn't realistic, and he was drunk. You were his friend's little sister, probably his most robust support system during deployments, his close friend and confidant. One drunken tumble in the sheets wasn't worth risking that.

You sigh heavily, setting the plate down on the counter where he had been sitting. "Sit down, Jake, and eat."

He follows orders well because, of course, he does. He dips a tater tot in some of the homemade BBQ sauce he had given you a few months ago and shoves it into his mouth. Jake has that same look he did with the water, which he is once again sipping, like he is looking for praise. However, under that, he looks a little defeated, his shoulders hunched slightly.

"Listen," you start slowly, trying to craftily pick your words so no more damage can be done. "You are drunk, and I was just teasing. It's nothing, Jake."

"I'm not too drunk," he defends himself, munching on another tot.

"You're sloshed," you say, pointing a finger.

"I am not sloshed, sweetheart. I walked all the way here. I drank water. My words aren't slurring." All of these were valid points, and his drunk mannerisms were improving by the minute. However, he was still inebriated. He had been drinking tonight, and you could use that as a defense.

"Doesn't change that you have been drinking, Jake."

He then dropped a tater tot that was halfway to his mouth and glared at you. He had never glared at you before. You weren't sure how to handle this situation. Instinctively you flinched a little at the harsh look, which lasted for a minute longer before he dropped his head low and stared at the plate.

"Am I just your pity, friend?" He asked you quietly.

"What? No, of course not!"

"I know I'm not the only one of Freight's friends you have sent care packets." He said using your brother's call sign, which made your eyebrows raise. Jake had known your brother, FreightTrain, since well before that was his call sign and they went to flight school together.

"Of course, I help support some of them when y'all are deployed. I am literally in the American Legion Auxiliary, you know," you said, shrugging like it wasn't a big deal.

"You send Bradshaw care packages," Jake said, the bitterness in his voice unmistakable. "He told me about it. "

You glared at him then, not about to put up with him being jealous over something like that.

"And so what if I do? Rooster is my brother's friend, just like you. And the man is an orphan. Who else is going to send him packages?"

"He is a grown man who can take care of himself."

"The same can be said about you, Jake."

He huffed, and that annoying crease in-between his eyebrows deepened along with his frown. His bottom lip caught in-between his teeth, biting it a few times in frustration before letting go.

"Do you want a list of all the people I send them to? I don't understand your issue here."

"The issue is," Jake clenched his fist and jaw before growling out the rest of his sentence, "I'm not just Freight's friend to you! We are more than that."

"Are we?" You ask him quietly, not knowing that was actually true.

Silence hung in the air between you while you waited to see if he would fill it. Waiting for Jake to reassure you that no, of course, y'all were more. That he cared about you as much as you cared about him. That you weren't just a convenient and useful person in his life. That you could have your beautiful friendship and so much more. However, instead of giving you those reassurances, Jake decided to finish his water and stand up again.

"I'm sorry for bothering you tonight, Ma'am. It won't happen again."

"Jake, no," you said softly, being the one who moved towards him now. "Stop. Where are you going to go? It's the middle of the night. You can stay here and finish eating."

"I can't impose more than I already have, Ma'am."

"Stop calling me Ma'am," You snap at him, already feeling the hurt of this encounter ringing through your veins.

"I can't stay here," Jake told you, and you were just thankful he didn't attach Ma'am to the clipped sentence this time.

"Well, this is me temporarily waiving my third amendment rights. Okay?" you say gently, pleading with your eyes. You were reeling from this interaction. Part of you still felt charged by his suggestive words of what he could do to you. Part of you was desperately worried you had somehow messed up your friendship. Then there was part of you that was confused about this jealous problem he seems to have with you sending care packages to other people.

"No, not okay."

"Not okay?" You parrot back.

"Do you know why I walked all the way here?" He asked you, his tone dead serious, and the glaze that had been there in his eyes when you first opened the door was almost entirely gone.

"Because you couldn't remember anywhere else to go?"

"No," he said calmly. "I came here tonight because I was drunk, and the only person I wanted to see was you. I always want to see you. No matter how far away you are, my feet are begging me to walk towards you: from down the road, the other side of the country, the middle of the ocean. You are my soul's compass point now.

"Normally, I can resist. I can act like I'm just your friend or your brother's friend. That I was just assigned this base randomly, without any subtle and insistent requests to my superiors for reassignment here. I can pretend that I don't have every single one of your cards saved. I have so much control all the time, but I am so tired. And tonight I was drinking, then I just couldn't stop my feet anymore from walking here, to you."

Every possible thought in your brain suddenly ran to the exit. The only thing occupying your mind was the look of pure sincerity on Jake "Hangman" Seresin's face while he poured his heart out.

"Jake," you whispered, taking a few steps toward him. This time, however, he was the one who stopped you, holding up his hand.

"I've never felt like I wasn't good enough before. Maybe a bit when I was younger, but not since I got over all my childhood bullshit and went to USNA. Definitely not since I figured out I'm actually the best at something as a pilot in flight school. But now I can't escape the feeling. I run the numbers all the time. I try and figure out if I have interpreted the signs wrong. I just can't wrap my mind around why I'm not good enough for you."

Jake might as well have taken a knife out of the block sitting by your stove and stabbed you. That would have hurt less than the tight feeling in your chest hearing him admit he felt insufficient. Jake's posture, the way he shrunk into himself, was wrong. He refused to meet your eyes now. It was all wrong, so incompatible with the man you knew Jake Seresin to be. He looked like he was about to keep going, but you didn't think your heart, which had just ripped itself into pieces, could handle hearing anything else.

"Enough," you growl out, slapping your hand down on the counter. "I won't hear another word of this." That just seemed to make Jake shrink more into himself, and he looked seconds away from hightailing it out of the door.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves and make a fully conscious effort so that your voice came out kind and caring. "You are worthy, Jake. I am ashamed if, for some reason, I have contributed to making you feel like you aren't."

"That's not enough to make you love me," he whispered, still not looking at you.

"Look at me," You begged. His eyes remained on the abandoned plate, so you repeated your request just as softly. Finally, when those sea glass eyes poured into yours, they were filled with hurt and panic. You tried to find the words to adequately say how you felt, the words that could make him understand the situation you were in.

"I love you too much to love you, Jake." You immediately wanted to stick your foot in your mouth hearing the words out loud.

"What does that mean?" He asked, which, to be fair, was a valid question.

"It means I care about you too much. It means you are too special to me. You are too good of a friend to try and fuck it up by adding more. I have to have you in my life. I won't lose us just because we decide to have sex or try something else, and it doesn't work out. It could never be worth it enough to even entertain losing you."

"Well, I love you too much to keep being your friend. I can't hear about your dates or watch you care about someone else. I can't be your friend anymore, pretending I'm not in love with you. It would never be genuine, and you deserve more than that."

Tears spring up in your eyes at his words, and your hands clench into fists. The only thing that stops you from sobbing is the steady breaths you are reminding yourself to take. "Then I guess we are at an impasse."

"This is the end then," Jake's voice breaks when he says end. You can't hold back the tears anymore; all it takes is two blinks, then they slide down your cheeks in fat drops.

"Don't say that," you beg him.

"I don't know what else to say."

"Take it back, say that you are drunk. That you don't love me. That I'm your friend's annoying little sister, who you promised to keep an eye on. Tell me you aren't leaving me. Tell me something that will fix this between us."

Silence stenches between the both of you again. Tears keep falling down your face, your eyes were begging Jake for comfort, but they only meet the steady resignation in his.

"I hate seeing you cry." He finally utters, which just makes you cry harder.

"Please," you didn't know what you were asking him for, though. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to self-soothe and find some form of comfort. Jake continued staring at you. He made a micromovement like he was going to come comfort you at least twice but stopped himself each time.

"I'm going to go." He gave you one final look and spun on his heel towards your front door.

You only let him get to the hallway, where he originally kicked off his shoes and was starting to shove them back on his feet. You caught his arm, wrapping your hand around it, stopping his movements.

"Don't do this. I love you."

"You're breaking my heart," he whispers, covering your hand with his own. Jake's USNA ring felt cool against your flushed skin.

"If I let you have me, will you stay?"

"No, not now that I know you don't want me."

"I never said I didn't want you," you retort, squeezing his arm a little.

“No. I could have bared simply not being enough or that you found me unattractive. What you told me was worse."

"I can't lose you over this. Not over drunken words and feelings."

"I'm not drunk," he growled out with a steel edge to his voice. "I'm not even a lick beyond stone-cold sober anymore. So stop implying my words and feelings are anything beyond genuine. I ain't asking you for tonight, sweetheart. I was here asking you for forever."

God, you knew that was what he was asking for, but that only made it so much scarier. His hand started to slip from where it covering yours. You twisted your hand to catch his fingers in yours. Ever so slowly, you brought it closer to you and brushed your lips over his knuckles. Jake's eyes were tracing your actions watching intently. When your lips touched his skin, he audibly gasped. The intake of breath was so minimal you wouldn't have heard it if you hadn't been standing so close.

"My date was terrible," you whispered to him, not letting go of his hand and holding it close to yourself. Jake raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything, so you just continued on. "They always are bad, even when they should be good, because they are never with you. And I also have kept all of your thank you cards. I've dried every bouquet of flowers you sent to me, so I wouldn't ever have to throw them out.

"I dream about you and think about you all the time. I didn't even want to be friends when you first moved here, because I was already more than in love with you from texts and phone calls. The first time I smelled your aftershave, which I had bought you, on your actual skin, I wanted to jump your bones. You didn't make it easier for me, Jake, looking like you were crafted from marble by an artist. And then I found out you tip servers well. I learned you are just as funny and kind in person as you were on the phone. An accomplished, decorated Naval officer, giving me any time of day even as a friend still seems ludicrous. You are too good to be true and certainly too damn good for me, Jake Seresin."

His pupils were blown wide, and his mouth open just the tiniest bit. He leans forward, you are fully expecting him to kiss you now, but instead, his forehead presses into yours. It's a grounding feeling, the weight of skull against yours, your breath mingling. It reminds both of you that this is real. His free hand comes to cup your cheek pushing away the stray tears still clinging to your cheeks. Your eyes pouring into each other, hardly even blinking.

"I can be yours then?" he asked when your breathing had evened out.

"You already are mine. You've been mine for a long time, haven't you?" You reassured him and asked him in the same breath.

"Yes. I've been yours. Always yours," Jake muttered lowly.

"Good. You are so good. Too good." You praised him, and his face split into a grin, and you were tempted to break the moment you were having and kiss him silly.

"Will you let me love you then?" He asked you a moment later.

"Yes, but it won't be easy," you warn him.

"If I wanted anything easy in life, I would have joined the Air Force." Before the joke even fully settles, or you have a moment to defend the Air Forces' honor, Jake's lips press against yours. The way his mouth feels against yours is even better than you had imagined.

You invite him to your bed, but he refuses to sleep with you, even if it is just sharing a bed, before at least one proper date. You try to fight him on it, but Jake says he can't be anything but a proper gentleman. You make up the couch for him, taking too long to tuck the blanket around him because you keep getting distracted by kissing every inch of his face. Finally,  you go to bed when you can't stop yawning, realizing it is past three am.

In the morning, you wake up sure the night before had been a dream. However, you are proven wrong when you make your way out of your room. There you find Jake shirtless in the kitchen humming to the music he has playing on his phone, flipping pancakes and bacon. The sight and scents combined literally make your mouth water.

"Can this count as our first date?" You ask him before even saying good morning. The laugh it prompts in him is warm and fills the whole room before settling your chest. You know it's a sound you never want to stop hearing.

So Wrong, It’s Right

Request: Ooo how about a Harry Wells rough smut????? ;)

A/N: This turned into a daddy kink with some jealous Harry. Hope you liked it!

Harrison Wells was going to Hell, of that he had been fairly certain of for quite some time. It was something that he knew for quite a few years now, but never so surely as he did in that moment. He knew that he shouldn’t, that he was dabbling into things better left alone, but something about you just….drew him in. He wasn’t the emotional type, wasn’t one to easily form attachments. In fact, Harry made it a point to push everyone away, so why you, of all people, got under his skin, he never really could explain.

Knowing that you were the forbidden fruit, maybe, tempted him. You were young, much to young to be with someone like him, or so he often told himself in the wee hours of the morning when he’d gaze at your sleeping face, but you were always so adamant about being ‘a grown ass woman.’ Those were your words not his, and to be fair, you did have a point.

You were twenty-six, far old enough to make your own decisions, but Harry still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was doing something wrong. it didn’t help that it was a secret. Of course it was a secret. He was damn near twenty years older than you - eighteen to be exact. You loved to remind him of that as well, though the ease that it gave was short-lived. He didn’t want the others to know, to look at you differently….to look at him differently. It was a selfish desire but he couldn’t help it. Harrison Wells could be an, admittedly, selfish man.

You hated secrets. Hated keeping them even more, but Harrison Wells was a notoriously stubborn man and changing his mind was something you were sure God couldn’t even do. Sighing you glanced over your outfit for the day, head tilting as you let your gaze wander over yourself. Lips tugged into a smirk as you straightened, turning to check the back. If he wasn’t going to tell, fine, but you were going to make his life a living hell in the meantime.

Waltzing into the Cortex, your hips swayed, practically hearing the jaws drop on your way in. It was the reaction you knew you were going to get, doing your best not to smirk.

“Damn mami! Look at you!” Cisco complimented, slack jaw turning into a grin as he caught your eye. He stuck his thumbs up as your laugh filled the room. Winking at your long time friend you thanked him with a smile.

“Wow…you look……wow,” Barry fumbled, unable to properly form words as his gaze raked over your outfit. His eyes kept moving, flicking between your body and your eyes, doing his best not to stare. A quick elbow to the ribs from Iris had him quickly averting his gaze.

“What’s with the outfit?” the journalist asked, eyes looking you up and down curiously. You were always the more fashionable of the group, but this was…a bit much. You could admit it was though, the lace bustier with flowing high waisted shorts left little to the imagination and the heels that made your legs look like they went for miles certainly…..added to the appeal.

“Felt like dressing up,” you shrugged, dogging the truth easily. “I’m counting one less genius than usual,” you hummed, eyes shifting as you searched for your target.

“Oh? You mean the grouch?” Cisco scoffed as he came up beside you, arm tossing over your shoulder. “Where else would he be?” he mused, eyes unable to help themselves as they scanned you from top to bottom.

“Ramon!” the sharp gravel tone had everyone jumping to attention as they turned towards the entrance. “Where’s that tech I told you to work on?” Harry quipped, pacing into the Cortex with a frown etched into his features.

“Oh uh…yeah, tech…totally. Yup, definitely did that,” the boy fumbled, quickly removing his arm from your shoulders as he scrambled back to his desk.

You turned slowly, a hand coming to your hip as you cocked it, eyes lifting to Harry as you watched the way he glanced at you only to whip his head back to you. It took everything in your entire being not to laugh at the way his eyes nearly bugged out of his head before composing himself. Oh, playing hard to get was he? You could play that game.

“Hi Harry,” You cooed, watching the way he gave you a curt nod before looking away. The struggle not to look at you was visible to you and you reveled in it. Humming softly, you turned to Cisco, hips swaying as you moved. Several pairs of eyes followed your movement, watching as you placed your hands on Cisco’s desk, leaning over, shorts clinging to your round hips as you bent.

Harry’s teeth dug into his bottom lip as he watched your clothes ride up and cling just shy of giving him a view of what he wanted. He knew you were doing this on purpose, that you were testing him. His heart pounded hard in his chest as heat quickly flooded south. He wanted nothing more that to press you flat against that desk, to have your back arch and your a-…..NO. No, he couldn’t do this here.

Tearing his gaze away, Harry glanced about the too, hoping he wasn’t caught blatantly ogling you. He wouldn’t have to worry about that though, nearly everyone in the Cortex doing the very same. The heat that had once tightened in his groin now boiled beneath his skin as he watched the way Barry’s eyes followed your every movement and Cisco was certainly not looking at your eyes as you spoke. Jaw tight, Harry squeezed the marker in his hand. “Ramon! Today!”

This was going to be along day…

And long day it was. Did you know how it killed him to listen to them? To see them practically screwing you with their eyes. The only solace Harry had was knowing that only he would ever be able to touch you in the way they were very clearly dreaming of. Still, that didn’t quell his rising anger and thinning patience. He knew you were egging him on, that you were purposefully flaunting your body around just to get under his skin. Harry didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of winning, but as he heard Cisco flirt for the upteenth time and you giggle at the man’s pitiful humor, Harry thought he was going to lose it.

His movements were sharp as he glared at his equation on the clear board, writing and rewriting as he tried to keep distracted. It was not working – to put it lightly, but the straw that broke the camel’s back was the loud smack that ran through the cortex followed by your yelp of surprise. The voice that followed had Harry seeing red.

“Damn girl! You fine!” Ralph’s voice filled the room, arm slinking back to his side from where he stood several feet away. “Name’s Ralph. New around here, but I gotta say, I like what I see,” he purred in what he believed to be a seductive tone.

Whipping around, Harry was ready to murder. “Out!” He snapped, point to the door. “Now!”

“Aw man, c’mon,” Ralph drawled, chuckling. Reading the room certainly hadn’t been taught to him as a child.

“If you value your ability to have children in the near future, I suggest you leave,” Harry growled out and, judging by the look on the brunette’s face, Ralph got the message loud and clear. Everyone grabbed their things in a flurry of movement, shuffling out of the room – you included.

Of course it wouldn’t be that easy, a firm grip on your arm halting you in your steps. Several pitiful glances washed over you, but the glare in those pretty blues had them rushing out. Your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline leaving a soft tingle along your flesh. You were getting the reaction you wanted, hopefully the cookie would continue to crumble in your favor.

“I know what you’re doing,” Harry growled in your ear, a shiver racing down your spine.

“Oh? And what would that be?” you spoke with an innocent flutter of your lashes.

“Don’t you dare,” He growled, shoving you back against a nearby desk. Hands gripped your hips and tugged you close, eyes free to rake over your body now. “Wearing this, letting them eye fuck you all day,” he hissed, anger growing as he replayed their looks in his mind.

Smirking you looked up at the scientist through thick lashes. “Yeah? What you gonna do about it….daddy?” you purred. Harry’s eyes dilated at the name and in a swift movement he slammed you face first into the desk. The sound of ripped fabric had you objecting only for a hard smack stealing your breath away.

“..H-Harry,” you gasped, jolting at the second smack that reddened your cheeks. They were sharp and painful, yet the heat was undeniable as it pooled in your center.

“That’s not my name,” he grunted, another smack raining down onto your backside. The moan that whimpered past your sweet lips was music to his ears, heart beat pounding in his chest. All he was was you, all he felt was you, and he was going to make damn sure you felt him.

Your knees were weak, lips parted with hard gasps and cheeks red by the time you were flipped, a hard kiss stealing your breath away. You gave in easily, arms linking around Harry’s neck as his tongue forced it’s way into your mouth. He tasted every inch of you as hands scoured your body. Fingers dipped into the cups of your top, tugging down with no concern for the shreds of fabric he left in his wake. Lips parted with a wet smack only for his mouth to wrap around a pert nipple, the moan that tore from your throat striking him right in his core.

Fingers dove into Harry’s wild hair, back arching high as he sucked harshly. He knew exactly how to touch you to drive you wild. “Fuck….Harry,” you groaned. Almost immediately he popped free, dragging you down the desk as his hand caught your throat.

“That’s. Not. My. Name,” Harry hissed against your lips, eyes low. “Say it right,” He grunted, hand gripping your jaw now as he forced your eyes to gaze into his. “Say it.”

“….Harry,” you smirked, reveling in the way he growled and shoved your head back. His hands fumbled as he tugged his belt off and shoved his jeans down. There was no care in the way he flipped you, dragging you back to his hips as he folded over your back.

“You have one more chance, doll,” he whispered low in your ear. It was your last chance for redemption. A chance you weren’t going to take.

“Or what….Harry?” you gasped, chest heaving as you gulped down much needed air. The growl in your ear sent pleasure straight to your core.

“Just know…this is your fault,” he warned, cock pressing into your wet folds. In one hard thrust he was hilt deep, the scream of pleasure igniting a fire inside of him. You were tight and wet and….god he loved being inside of you. Hissing softly, Harry dragged his hips back before snapping his hips forwards. There was no time to adjust as he set a relentless pace. Your moans echoed around the empty Cortex, hands gripping the edge of the desk so tightly they were turning white.

“What’s….uhn…my name?” Harry grunted, head lifting to gaze down at where the two of you connected, watching himself disappear into your tight heat.

“Oh god….” you gasped, eyes fluttering as each thrust bounced you against the desk. It was hard to think, let alone speak, but you weren’t going to give Harry what he wanted. At least not yet. “H…..Harry,” you spoke with a soft gasp, knees weak as he growled. Fingers dove into your hair, wrapping around the strands as he tugged hard. Your back arched high, Harry’s free hand slamming down against your ass.

“Fuck daddy!” you cried out, knees buckling. Harry smirked behind you, repeating the action and reveling in the moans that filtered from your lips. They were so sinfully sweet. He couldn’t get enough.

“Say it again,” He rasped in your ear, his breathlessness making you whimper. He was so deliciously rough when he was riled up.

“…Yes daddy,” you whined, yelping at the sudden hard thrust. God it felt so good. So so good.

“You’re mine and no one else’s,” Harry huffed, hand releasing your hair. Arms wrapped around your middle as you felt his face tuck into the curve of your neck.

“Yours,” you mumbled incoherently as he thrust hard and fast. One arm braced you against the table, the other reaching back to comb through Harry’s hair, mewling as he hit a particularly sensitive place. “Daddy~!” you whined, hips pressing back to meet each thrust. “Right there,” You gasped.

“Okay baby,” Harry breathed, hand sliding down your curves to your hip to keep that angle. Your cries grew in volume as he abused that sensitive spot and soon you couldn’t hold back. “Daddy…..oh god….Daddy! Daddy I’m…oh!…oh god!….oh…fuck!…fuck!…..Daddy!” Head tossing back, your grip on Harry’s hair tightened as your walls clenched hard around his cock. Your orgasm crashed into you in waves, entire body trembling as you mewled Harry’s name.

His orgasm was right behind yours, cock twitching with each thick rope he coated your walls with. Hard thrusts slowed to a halt as the two of you slumped against the desk. Silence encompassed your tired forms as your hearts settled and breathing regulated.

“Babe?” you hummed, turning in what small space you were allowed.

“Mmm?” Harry mumbled, face still tucked (happily) in the curve of your neck.

“…..Can I borrow some clothes?” you asked softly, voice unable to breach a whisper.

“Oh now you want to be covered?” Harry quipped, peeking at you with a smirk in his eyes.

“Harry…” you whined, only to feel his chuckle rumbled against your back.

“From now on, that outfit is only for me to see,” he grumbled, partially serious as lips met in a gentle kiss.

“Yes Daddy,” you muttered softly, giggling at the way his eyes dilated at the name.

Yeah, Harrison Wells was going to hell….but at least he had you until then.

I want you to know that I love you for that Druig Smut, more pls, 😩 Maybe some angst in the mix, or mortal reader with Druig and he is really protective over her but doesn’t want to be with her at first because he wants her to be safe but one day he sees her with another guy and then they get into some argument but it ends with smut and them being in love 😩

All writing will be #writing-wh0re-requests.

Druig x Mortal Reader

Words: 2,712.

Warnings: Smut18+, Unprotected Vaginal Sex, Praise Kink, Begging Kink, Fingering, Cock Warming (slight). I think thats it...

A/n: I hope you enjoy Anon! Sorry its long!

Please note, there are no spoilers in this! Use of characters only, no link to movie.

Druig Headcanon

Waited Years - Smut18+ 

Something Special - Smut18+

Masterlist

Druig and I had been friends for years, I physically ran into him one day at the London Library, spilling hot coffee all over myself. Druig was kind enough to lend me his leather jacket and since then, we’ve been close.

I remember the day Druig told me about him being an Eternal, it didn’t seem real but then again the last five years had literally disappeared because a purple dude snapped his fingers, so I guess anything is possible. Although a part of my heart broke the day he told me this, being thousands of years old, watching everyone die, new people walking around him. Eternity by himself, the thought of us together completely crashing down.

A small part of me is always worried for when the day might come that he controls me and makes me leave him behind. Something that truly terrifies me, not only because he’s my best friend but because he’s the one I love, the one I look for in every crowd, the one I attempted to replace during fast hookups and drunken nights.

“What’s on your mind, love?”

My heart hammers against my chest at his voice, my eyes looking up from my phone.

“Sorry, spaced out for a second.” I smile weakly, looking down at my phone again. Jay, 23, loves cozy nights with a good movie and wants to know a time for a drink tonight.

“Everything alright?” Druig’s hand rests on my knee, his thumb brushing circles on my skin, every single touch ignites a small fire inside of me.

“Yeah, I’d tell you if it wasn’t, I’m meeting a friend tonight.”

Druig stays quiet, simply nodding in response as he crosses his arms. I move from the couch, walking around my apartment to my bedroom, wanting to find an outfit.

“So this friend, do I know them?”

“Highly doubt that.”

“Try me.”

“Jay.” I state, holding different outfits up against my body as Druig leans against my door frame.

“Jay.” Druig whispers the name, rolling his eyes before walking over to my bed and laying down on the mattress, his hands under his head.

“And how did you meet Jay?”

Typical, Druig always has questions about my dates, what’s their name, what's their bio say and some snarky comment about how every man loves the outdoors and its not something unique.

“Work.” I lie, my voice jumping up an octave slightly causing Druig to chuckle.

“Nice try.”

“It’s just a drink.” I huff, finally deciding on a black mid thigh body con dress.

I walk into my ensuite to get changed, closing the door slightly. I quickly change my outfit, opening the door as I lean against the frame.

“You should go out for a drink tonight, go look at the museum or something.”

Druig groans, his face turning towards me as he shifts on the bed, his eyes racking down my body, making me fully aware of how short this dress is.

“I should change.” I mumble walking over to my wardrobe as Druig jumps in front of me, his hands falling under my elbows.

“Don’t, Jay won’t know what’s hit him.” There it is again, the small fires igniting on my skin.

My eyes lock with Druig, the space between us extremely small. I flick my eyes to his lips before my phone tings repeatedly, pulling us out of our shared trance. I run a hand through my hair quickly, grabbing my phone and sighing.

“Is Jay needy?” Druig smirks, amused at the almost quadruple text messages from this man.

“Just lost.” I quickly type a reply, before rushing around to grab my shoes and bag.

“Seriously? Is this guy even worth it?” Druig continues to question me, my own mind asking the same questions.

“That’s what the drink is for, gotta suss him out first.”

Druig rolls his eyes, holding my apartment door open.

“Go rescue the damsel.”

I narrow my eyes at him, pulling my jacket on.

“Coming up with jokes now?” Druig smiles sweetly at me, as if he’s done nothing wrong.

“You can stay here if you want, but seriously consider going out for a drink or maybe go borrow another book.” I suggest as Druig nods, gesturing for me to leave.

“Go have fun with Jai.”

“Jay.”

“Darling, I don’t care.”

I scoff, walking out of my apartment. He could be a little nicer about this.

\\//

20 minutes. 20 minutes of pure awful small talk and Jay going on and on about the stock market and why it’s good to invest into Stark Industries, like I honestly care about that.

“Excuse me.” I look up at the waiter, thankful for the small interruption and silence from Jay.

“This is for you.” The waiter places down a vodka sunrise cocktail in front of me. I suck my teeth, fucking Druig.

“We didn’t order this.” Jay scoffs.

“Correct Sir, the gentlemen at the bar did.” The waiter moves to the side, Druig raising his glass in the air, sending a wink in my direction as butterflies erupt deep in my stomach, a sigh passing my lips. “The gentlemen has a message for you.”

“Fucking poser.” Jay mumbles low attempting to go unnoticed but failing.

The waiter looks over Jay with disgust before looking at me and smiling.

“The message, A drink is always a good idea.” The waiter smiles, quickly turning away from the table as I swirl my straw around the glass. I chuckle softly, my eyes flicking to Druig, his already locked onto me. My breath hitches slightly as his eyes trail over my body slowly.

“Are you going to drink that?” Jay asks, his hand gesturing to the cocktail glass.

“With pleasure.” I bring the glass to my lips, quickly downing the liquid in one go.

“Shit.” Jay is shocked at my actions. I feel the soft alcohol warmth fill my chest, quickly flicking my eyes to an amused and smug Druig.

“Anyway, so Tony Stark.” My mind instantly switches off not wanting to listen to another minute about stocks or Tony Stark.

Every now and again I flick my eyes over to Druig, his gaze never leaving me.

\\//

“Let me walk you home, London isn’t the safest city.”

I open my mouth to protest Jay’s claim, his hand grabbing mine and forcing our fingers together as he blindly leads us down the street.

“Might be best if you follow me.”

Jay smiles at me nodding, I quickly take in his appearance, mentally slapping myself. Of course he resembles Druig.

After ten minutes of walking Jay and I reach my apartment, his eyes taking in the surroundings.

“I had fun.”

I smile weakly at him, rummaging through my bag for my apartment key, a groan passing my lips. I left it on the kitchen counter. The night just keeps getting better and better.

“You okay?” Jay asks, his hand rubbing up and down my arm, a cold feeling washing over me with every stroke. I move away from him, before nodding.

“Yeah, just left my key inside, I’ll have to call a friend.”

“You could come home with me, I’m only half an hour away.”

Jay walks closer to me, my back hitting against the door, his hand on my hip the same cold feeling washing over me.

“Am I interrupting?”

Relief fills me at Druig’s voice. Jay sucks his teeth pulling away from me as he faces Druig.

“Aren’t you the guy from the bar?”

Druig smirks, chuckling softly, my apartment key in his hand as my keychain jingles.

“Are you stalking my girl here?”

“Hear that Y/n, you’re his girl, congratulations.”

I roll my eyes at the two of them, putting my hand out.

“The key.”

“Woah, woah, key? This douche has your key?” Jay asks, putting his hand in front of me to stop me from getting the key.

I open my mouth to speak before Druig cuts me off.

“Douche? Wow, haven’t been called that in a long time.”

“Druig.” I warn, wanting to just get inside and wash this guy and date off me.

“You know him?”

“He’s a friend.” I mumble as Jay smirks, walking up to Druig, being face to face with him. Jay’s eyes travel over Druig a chuckle passing his lips.

“Friend, bet that stings huh bud.”

Druig licks his lips, tilting his head slightly as he laughs at Jay. Jay puffs his chest out a bit more not having expected Druig to laugh in his face.

“Keep laughing buddy, I’ll be the one making her scream my name later.”

Druig’s jaw clenches, his hands forming into fists as his eyes glow yellow.

“Leave, forget this night, take a train to Glasgow.”

Jay’s eyes settle back to their normal colour as he mindlessly walks away from us.

Silence falls over Druig and I, my brain trying to figure out what just occurred. That’s the first time Druig has used his power in front of me.

I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t hot. The dark part of me screaming about how powerful he truly is, how in control he can be.

Druig walks into my dark apartment, flicking on the lamp in the lounge room as I drop my bag and jacket on the dinning table.

“Seriously Y/n, you honestly pick dickheads.”

I chuckle, clicking my tongue. Ignoring him.

“When will you learn?”

“Learn what Druig? If you have a magical solution for me finding the one, then enlighten me.”

Druig runs his hands down his legs, sighing as he looks out of my balcony door, the city lighting up the sky, staying quiet.

“Exactly, do you think I like going out with guys like that? Guy’s that don’t give a fuck about what I like but cannot wait to take me to bed?”

Druig’s jaw clenches again as he runs his hand over his face and through his hair.

“Do you want me to thank you? Thanks for having a pissing contest outside of my apartment, thanks for ordering me a drink and stirring the pot, it really made my night.”

I turn away from him before his voice stops me in my tracks.

“Do you get how fucking hard it is for me? Seeing you waste your time on guy’s like him, guys who only want to get you between the sheets?”

Druig stands, only a few inches away from me.

“You don’t get it do you?”

I cross my arms over my chest, a small amount of fear filling me, is this the moment I’ve been worrying about, the moment Druig decides this is to hard and he walks away.

“What is there to get Druig? You’re jealous because I get to try and find my person and you don’t get to?”

Druig scoffs, shaking his head as he looks at the ground.

I instantly want to take my words back but im so mad at him, how dare he give me shit for trying to replace him, its not fucking easy.

Druig sighs, his eyes locking with mine, “Y/n, I’m in love with you and it fucking sucks seeing you with other guys, guys that aren’t worth your time, so yeah I guess I’m jealous.”

My brain tries to comprehend what Druig just confessed to me. He loves me?

Druig’s eyes search mine, a blank stare present on my face.

“Say something, please.”

I flick my eyes from his to his lips, choosing to show my actions rather than use my words. I close the gap between us, his hands falling to the middle of my back and keeping me close to his chest, my fingers running through his hair.

Our lips fit perfectly against each other, the kiss filled with every emotion, love, eagerness, gentle and urgent.

Druig walks me backwards, my back hitting my bedroom door allowing for the wood to swing open, clearing the small distance to my bed. Our lips pull apart from each other, pulling each other's clothes from our bodies, eager to finally be together.

Druig holds my waist, stepping away from me slightly, truly taking in my appearance as blush fills my cheeks.

“Beautiful, my beautiful girl.” Butterflies take over all of my senses, his lips attaching to mine again as I fall back onto the bed. His knee falls between my thighs, his hand moving from beside my head and running down my body. His fingertips causing goosebumps and shivers to wash over me.

His fingers dance over my thighs, brushing against my dripping pussy. His smile breaks our kiss, our eyes locking together.

“Who made you this wet?”

I smirk, biting my lip as Druig studies my face. His finger presses flat against my throbbing clit, a gasp passing my lips.

“I asked a question.”

Arousal rushes to my core, Druig completely taking over my senses.

“You did.”

Druig hums in response, slowly circling his finger on my clit, his lips attaching to my neck as he licks and sucks my skin, leaving his mark on me. I moan at the feeling, my fingers tugging on his hair. My back arches into his chest as he slips a finger inside of me, pumping in and out with ease, my slick walls welcoming him. Druig adds another finger, curling them inside of me, pressing against my spongy spot.

“Oh fuck.”

Druig moans, kissing down my body, his lips trailing over my breasts. He takes my nipple between his lips, swirling his tongue around the hardening bud before sucking it, pulling back enough for our eyes to meet as he winks at me. My eyes roll back, a chorus of sighs and moans falling from my lips.

He keeps his pace, his fingers slipping in and out of me.

“Druig, please.”

Druig’s cock brushes against my thigh, twitching at my plea.

“Please.” His dick twitches again as I smirk figuring out he has a begging kink.

“Druig.” He groans, pulling his fingers from me as I whimper at the loss of contact. He sits back on his calves, basking in the image of me under him, begging for his cock.

“Fuck me, please.” Druig sighs deeply, pumping his cock a few times before lining up with my entrance.

“Anything for you baby.”

I smirk at the pet name, my mouth falling open as I gasp, his cock stretching my walls. Druig moans at the feeling of my walls clenching around him, his head tilted back.

I wiggle my hips, silently begging for him to move. He slowly thrusts in and out of me, savouring the feeling of his cock disappearing inside of me.

“Good girl, fuck your pussy is good.” I moan at the praise, his hips rocking into mine. He bends towards me, his body covering me as our lips meet. Soft, gentle and loving kisses in between moans and gasps as his cock massages my walls.

“Faster, please.” Druig moans at my plea, speeding up his pace. Druig moves some of the hair out of my face, our eyes locking together as he smiles.

“I love you so fucking much.”

Tingles rush through me at his words, a smile dances across my face, blush heating up my cheeks.

“I love you.”

Druig’s eyes flutter closed as he continues to thrust in and out of me, his hand moving to my pussy, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit.

“Holy fuck.” I moan at the added pleasure, my nails digging into his forearm as his lips kiss up and down my neck, whispering praise into my ear.

“Good girl.”

“Take me so well.”

“Feel so good baby.”

I feel my body go hot, my muscles tensing.

“Let go, cum for me Y/n, I’ve got you.”

I moan his name loud, my legs shaking around him, my back arching as my boobs press against his chest.

Druig thrusts into me a few more times, his moans filling the air as he cums inside of me, a warmth shooting through my core.

Druig cups my face in his hands, placing a soft kiss to my lips before laying beside me, pulling me closer to him as I gasp, his cock staying buried inside of me.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

I smile at his words, happy to finally have him as mine.

\\//

Druig Taglist -

@maybesandohnos

@ellabellabus07

@artaxerxesthegreat

@eternals-favorite

@strawberry-cake1

@tommysprincess

@marvelettabarnes

@neridavidson00

@ashleycadenas831

@enthusiastkpop

@characterobsessed

@harqnesss

@myworldwithoutrules

@wtfstxr

@nightperseida

@fakeplayers

@anakinslightsaber4000

@sofiaaraee

@simpinforsebbyandbarry

@drukkariii

@druigmybelovedone

@qxldtom

Number 13   (m)

Summary:

Just a couple of spoiled rich boys who are determined to fulfill their wet dream of a threesome with an older woman.

Genre: Smut

Pairings: Hyunjin x Female Reader, Felix x Female Reader

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: Age gap kink, stealing a credit card, m/m (kissing),  threesome, overstimulation, dirty talk, protected sex.

A/N: This is part 2 of the Crimson Secrets series. I’m not really happy with how this one turned out. But I figured I’d post it anyway. Maybe someone will enjoy it.

Crimson Secrets Masterlist

Keep reading

your fiyero | fiyero tigelaar x reader

Pairing: Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader Summary: Ever since Fiyero Tigelaar started at Shiz University, he found himself fascinated by you – the one student who didn't care about him. When he notices you starting to struggle with something, he'll do anything to make sure you're okay. Warnings: Mentions of fainting, falling over, academic stress/burn out Word Count: 2.2k A/N: I've seen Wicked (the show) three times now with the amazing Australian cast that's currently touring and I fell totally head over heels with Fiyero, and then yesterday I saw the movie and fell even more in love with Fiyero and so I had to write for him. I do intend to write more for him, especially if other people want to read more! He's so fun to write for and definitely a challenge compared to some other characters I've written for in the past. I hope you all enjoy! 💗

It’s not difficult to sense the presence of Fiyero Tigelaar behind you as you leave Doctor Dillamond’s classroom, shoving your books into the bag over your shoulder. With the way the students heading into the classroom are staring at someone behind you, it’s quite obvious who they’re staring at. Everyone at Shiz University wants Fiyero Tigelaar. 

Everyone, that is, except you.

“Classes are over, you know?” Fiyero’s voice comes from behind you as you round the corner, heading down the staircase leading to the courtyard. “You don’t have to rush off.”

Irritatingly, the fact that you can’t particularly care less about wanting Fiyero Tigelaar makes himwant you. He usually isn’t the type. If someone doesn’t like him – something he’s actually yet to experience – he would just let it slide. Why waste his energy? But ever since he’d started at Shiz and met you, he’d found himself unable to leave you alone. 

“I know,” you glance back at him over your shoulder. “But some of us actually want to study and spend their time here learning, Tigelaar.”

Fiyero hurries his steps a little so he’s walking alongside you. “Did you miss the part where I said it was my job to corrupt my fellow students when I started here? It’s never too late, darling.” He flashes a grin your way.

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him, right at the same time you almost miss a step and stumble a little. Fiyero is quick, catching your elbow to help steady you. You don’t look at him as you steady yourself, meaning you miss the look of worry in his eyes.

“Are you all right?”

You clear your throat and shake off his grip. “Consider me corrupted by your presence.” 

With that, you make a beeline away from him and you’re glad to notice that he doesn’t attempt to follow you. You highly doubt that he’s going to follow you all the way to the library. Fiyero and the library have never exactly gone hand in hand. 

~~

The next time Fiyero bothers you, you’re sat on one of the benches by the gardens. There’s a book in your hands and he can see you staring intently at it as he saunters over to you. It’s almost like he’s approaching a wild bird or something, he thinks. If he moves too quickly, he’ll frighten you and scare you away. It’s the last thing Fiyero wants to do.

He’s a few steps away from you when you look up from your book and meet his eyes. His face breaks into a smile as he moves the last few steps and takes the spot beside you on the bench. You turn to look at him, your eyebrows raised. 

“Now, don’t say I’m interrupting your study,” he begins. “That book is most definitely not in the curriculum. And yes, I did actually take the time to look the curriculum up after I saw you reading here the other day, if you can believe it.”

For a few moments, you only stare at him. Fiyero, for the first time probably ever, finds himself actually a little uncomfortable at your unwavering gaze. It surprises him. He’s never the type of person to feel uncomfortable. He’s confident in almost every situation.

You let out a sigh. “It may not be in the curriculum, but you’ve interrupted me nevertheless, Tigelaar.”

“Apologies,” he says, with a small smirk. “Am I corrupting you even more with my presence?”

“Something like that.” You close your book and sit it on the small space of bench beside you. You had actually just been reading the same page over and over for the last twenty minutes and trying to convince yourself to stop overthinking things. 

You had so much studying to do, so much to learn and so many assignments to do and so little time to do it all. It was probably a little counterproductive to be sitting outside, reading a book and doing none of those things, but if you didn’t try and have a break from them all, you were pretty sure you were going to burn yourself out, which was the last thing you needed. It would have helped if you’d actually been able to relax and enjoy your book, though.

“Is it any good? Your book. Not that I’d read it, of course,” Fiyero grins.

You try your best to conceal your amusement. “I’d offer to lend it to you but, as you said, you wouldn’t actually read it so… I’ll keep it safe with me. I doubt the Winkie Prince knows how to properly take care of books if he can’t read them.”

Fiyero gasps jokingly. “I’ll have you know I can read, I just choose not to. I prefer to fill my brain with much more useless things. That way, I don’t have to think. It’s a peaceful way to live, my darling.” 

You shake your head, this time unable to keep a smile off of your face. Fiyero likes the sight of it. It strangely makes his heart beat a little faster. He can’t actually remember the last time he saw you smiling… not that he’s been keeping track. 

“How about you join me?” He offers. “No more studying for the rest of the day and no more thinking? I’m positive I could find something we could do to fill the time.” 

The reminder of studying, however, brings you back to reality after you small moment of joking with Fiyero. You reach down and grab your book before standing up and turning to face Fiyero, who is looking at you with slight concern in his eyes at your sudden movement.

“I can’t,” you say simply. “I’ve been reading all morning and there is a lot I have to do. I’ll see you around, Tigelaar.”

He watches you with furrowed eyebrows as you walk away from him, clutching your book to your chest and heading in the direction of the library. Fiyero shakes his head and lets out a small laugh. He really thought today would be the day he’d win you over.

~~

A week goes by without Fiyero even getting to utter a word to you. He sees you, though, fairly often around the school. In the courtyard, in the library (where he definitely didn’t go specifically looking for you), in history class and in the dining hall. But every time he’s thought to approach you, you’ve disappeared before he could even make his move. It’s on the seventh day when he notices that something is different about you.

You’re coming out of the library, carrying several books and what looks like a stack of papers in your hands when you trip. Fiyero isn’t quick enough to cross the courtyard and get to you in time to stop your fall. He does, however, take off at a run to be by your side as you start collecting all of the scattered pieces of paper and books that had fallen out of your grasp.

“It’s all right, Tigelaar. You don’t have to help me,” you mutter, trying to shove books into your already overfilled bag. “It’s a Friday night. I’m sure you’ve got other places to be.”

Fiyero, truthfully, does have other places to be. He’s been invited to the Ozdust Ballroom by nine separate people today. But how can he leave you to just clean all this up by yourself? He can see just by the look on your face that you’re utterly exhausted.

“I do,” he says honestly. “But I’ll help you with this first.”

He’s surprised when you suddenly stop putting things in your bag and when he looks up, he finds you staring at him again. It makes him uncomfortable in the same way he felt last week when you’d looked at him in a similar way. 

“Okay,” you sigh. 

Your lack of energy in fighting him is the second thing to make Fiyero realise something is wrong.

After the two of you finish picking up all of the things you’d dropped, the both of you stand. Fiyero opens his mouth to say something when he notices you start to sway. He’s quicker this time, moving to catch you before you fall. His arm wraps around your waist to keep you steady, while his other hand takes the book bag off your shoulder and moves it straight onto his. He’s surprised by how heavy it is. 

“Woah, darling, what’s going on?” Fiyero looks down at you as you blink and push yourself away from him. “Hey, be careful, okay? I think you were just about to faint.”

You shake your head. “I just stood up too fast, that’s all.” You know the words are a lie, and you can tell that Fiyero knows that as well. First, he’d seen you trip coming out of the library, then he’d caught you when you’d almost fainted… you can’t hide it from him. That much becomes crystal clear immediately.

“Let’s get you somewhere you can sit down, okay?” Fiyero begins. “May I?” He gestures to you, asking silently if he can wrap an arm around you to support you incase you fall over again. 

You nod and allow him to guide you just around the corner into the small seating area off to the side of the library. It’s dark, the lanterns not being lit yet despite the fact that the sun had gone down over twenty minutes ago.

“I swear I’m not usually this clumsy,” you say sheepishly. “That’s twice you’ve stopped me from falling in the last two weeks… I suppose I should say thank you, Fiyero.”

Fiyero sits you down gently on the bench and sits your book bag down on the ground. He crouches down in front of you and reaches up to take your hands in his. He’s surprised when you don’t immediately pull away from him. “I don’t think you’ve ever called me by my first name before.”

“Oh,” you think on it for a second, trying to ignore the warm feeling of his hands and how comforting it is. “I guess I haven’t. Sorry, Tigelaar.”

“No, no,” Fiyero shakes his head. “Don’t go back to that. I like when you call me Fiyero.”

“Well, I suppose it is your name,” you offer a small smile.

“There’s that gorgeous smile,” Fiyero smiles back at you and squeezes your hands. “Now, are you gonna tell me why you almost just fainted on me and why you’re clumsier than you usually are, darling?”

You stay silent for a few moments and just when Fiyero begins to think that you might just brush him off and try to make a quick exit like you did last week, you start to speak.

“I haven’t really been sleeping well lately,” you admit quietly. “I’ve had so much work to do, I fell behind on my assignments and I took on some extra work from Doctor Dillamond and… despite my best efforts, I guess I let myself get a little burnt out.”

Fiyero looks at you with his eyes full of pity and you hate it. 

“Anyway,” you clear your throat, “that’s not important. Why would you care?”

Your attempt to make light of the situation fails spectacularly, judging by the look that Fiyero gives you afterwards. You’ve never seen him look that unimpressed before. 

“Of course I care,” he says, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Why, though?” You can’t help but ask. “Why are you so fixated on me?”

Fiyero sighs and moves to sit beside you, letting go of your hands in the process. “If you’ll allow me to be honest with you for a moment,” he starts, “I suppose… you’re the only person at Shiz that doesn’t treat me like the perfect Winkie Prince that everyone thinks I am. You’re the only person that doesn’t think I’m perfect, and half the time you act like you can’t stand to be around me, and for some reason that only makes me want to be around you more.” 

“Are you not the perfect Winkie Prince?” You ask.

Fiyero grins. “Oh, not in the slightest, darling. But let’s keep that between us. I’ll keep your secret if you keep mine. How does that sound?” 

You don’t even try to hide the smile that comes to your face at his words. “You promise you won’t tell anyone about what happened today?”

“I promise,” he nods. “But only on one condition: you tell Doctor Dillamond you can’t complete the extra work you signed up for and you take a break to make sure you get plenty of rest before diving into your other assignments. I’m sure I can sweet talk some of the Professors if you need help.” 

He smiles as you hit him with the same look as before, but for the first time, he doesn’t find himself feeling uncomfortable at the sight of it. Now, he finds it slightly amusing and incredibly endearing. He has always found you endearing, he supposes.

“Sweet talking my Professors will not be necessary,” you chuckle. “But okay. It’s a deal. And I’ll keep your secret too. You can continue to be the perfect Winkie Prince to everyone… except me.”

Fiyero laughs. “I’ll just be your Fiyero, then.”

“My Fiyero?” You repeat after him, eyebrows raised. 

He ignores the way his heart beats faster at the sound of those words coming out of your mouth. 

“Yes, your Fiyero,” he hums. 

“Everyone will think that you finally corrupted me after all this time,” you joke, voice teasing. “I’ll just be like everyone else at Shiz. Part of the Fiyero Tigelaar fan club.”

Fiyero fixes you with a look. “Oh, darling. You could never be like everyone else.” 

unexpected [ bc. ]

summary: coincidentally, on the same day the twenty-two year old you were kicked out from your (small) rented apartment due to not paying, you bump into a (pleasant-smelling) guy who surprisingly took you in and made you his.. what did he call it? sugar baby?

genre: fluff, smut (spanking, light bondage, fingering, punishment), very light angst, unplanned pregnancy

member/s: bang chan x fem reader

word count: 6.9K to 7K words

Holy fuck.

With a last shout of never come back from the angry landlady, she shut the gate on your face and stomped away from you.

Okay.. I can work this out.. You mumble to yourself. You bow your head down, exhaling the breath you unconsciously held in while the landlady was scolding you earlier.

Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?

Keep reading