Jealousy Games [Part 3] ( Demetri X Reader )

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

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Being the daughter of Hades & forced to marry Morpheus would include…

Author’s note: Someone requested this and as someone obsessed with Greek mythology and Hades I just HAD TO. But Dark Morpheus ahead 👹

Daughter of Hades and Persephone you went by many names, Melinoe, Y/N…

Morpheus had certain affairs with your father Hades, so he usually came around often

He was aware that Hades had children but he hadn’t had the pleasure to meet you properly since you were always on duty

Until one day, your father had asked you to deal with the affairs he had with Dream on his behalf.

When Morpheus’ eyes laid upon you it was as if the whole universe stopped.

You were simply breathtaking, perfect, immaculate, all words he could think of were not enough.

Being Goddess of Ghosts, nightmares and lost souls he believed you could understand him better than anyone.

He showed interest in you like no one had and that was flattering but you didn’t think much of it.

His obsession grew with each passing day, he was consumed by thoughts of you.

You were perfect for him, he was so sure of it.

The more he observed you, the more he convinced himself

You had to be his, no matter the means.

So, he stole your dream catcher, the ultimate symbol of your power and powerful enough to summon you.

When you were summoned you were greeted by the sight of your father and Morpheus who was holding your totem.

By universal laws, whoever possessed your totem would own you.

“You will be the perfect queen to the Dreaming, my wife”

Persephone, your mother. Cried helplessly knowing there wasn’t anything she could do to stop this madness

“You’re a monster!”

You couldn’t believe that history was repeating itself

You were such a free soul and now you were nothing but a possession of a man

You were sickened to your stomach thinking how could Morpheus do this to you.

You were miserable on the of your wedding

The ceremony was elegant and the arrangements were beautiful but you didn’t love Morpheus

You hated him for depriving you of your freedom

You refused to let him touch you, even when he tried you would hit him or scratch him.

“I will never love you”

“We have eternity ahead my love, you will eventually realize all I’ve done is out devotion to you”

He would make all sorts of gifts to you, which you returned completely torn apart

You didn’t speak to him in a whole century

Dream found your resistance amusing

Being now married to him you had been sharing responsibilities with Dream over the kingdom.

Which meant you had to speak to each other if you wanted things to be done.

He returned your totem to you as a vote of confidence

“I know someday you will learn to love me”

You started to open up to him

After all, you had become his wife and while you didn’t agree to this marriage, you did recognize you were meant to spent eternity with him.

You might as well try to know him.

Eventually you let him be close to you and to touch you.

He was so eager to possess you fully, but he did understand you needed time

He would give you all the time you needed. You were worth the wait.

When you finally condoned that type of physical interaction he practically went at you like a lion hunting on gracious gazelle

He was starving and you were the only thing that could satisfy his hunger.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t adored every minute of that.

There was something empowering about being craved and owned with such fervor and urgency.

“A husband should comply to every single demand of his wife”

That’s when you understood. This marriage wasn’t about him putting you on a leash, it was about Morpheus fully giving himself to you.

His love for you was blinding, suffocating.

He would commit on the most atrocious acts just for you

Dream was using this marriage as an oath to you, to become your devotee for eternity.

He wanted to worship you, to surrender himself to you, he was a tool for you to use however you consider fitting.

It was good having your needs taken care of

You were the most addicting drug to him

He dropped everything for you, the minute you asked.

As long as you stayed with him, nothing else mattered.

Nothing in the world mattered more to him than his queen.

Finnick Odair Being Your Mentor Would Include...

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Dating L Would Include:

-Lots of cuddling… when you guys get the chance

-This boy is touch starved as hell from working so hard all the time

-So when he has a break, you bet he’ll be at your side in a moment

-Likes to be the small spoon while cuddling because surprisingly, it gets tiring ordering everyone around and being in charge all the time

-Also loves to pull you on top of him and hold you to his chest just to feel the weight of you on him and sort of making him feel protected for a bit

-Honestly L just wants to act like a little kid and depend on someone else for a little while

-Will live you forever if you run your hands through his hair while he’s cuddled up in your side

-”Y-/N? What… what are you doing?” He’ll ask the first time you are playing with his soft locks of black hair

-”Nothing… it’s just so soft~” You laugh, trying to play off your embarrassment 

-”Hmm…” he hums in thought, “It’s nice.” He decides and lets you continue

-Now it’s just a sort of comforting thing for him

-Every once in awhile when he’s dealing with an especially difficult case he’ll simply pull you into his lap and pull your hands up into his hair, silently asking for you to play with his hair and maybe manage his head a bit

-It really helps him relax and he loves you for having this effect on him

-He’ll take you with him on his trips around the world, wanting to keep you as close to him as possible the whole time 

-”To keep you as safe as possible my love.” he claims with a small smirk as he pulls you closer to him

-Not that you’re complaining… you’d like to stay close to him as well

-Due to his work there would probably be times… or days you would go without seeing him while he interrogates someone or checking out some evidence or some crime scene somewhere that is too dangerous to take you to

-But trust me, he’ll make it up to you

-One specific time he was gone for almost a week and you were starting to get worried

-Just as you were about to contact Watari to get some answers the door to your bedroom opened

-Your eyes landed immediately on the huge box of cake with the words “I’m sorry” written across the top in big sugary frosting letters

-The box lowered and you almost cried tears of relief at the sight of your boyfriend’s stupid face  

-”I know… I should have called and told you I was alright, but I didn’t want to risk putting you in danger-”

-”It doesn’t matter now… all that matters is that you’re okay!” You run and pull him into a hug 

-Cue cake eating party for two while binging comedy movies all night

-Apology accepted

-Kissing this boy would be a bit awkward at first

-He would know what to do but wouldn’t be sure that YOU knew what to do

-Keeps his eyes open for the first few just to see your reaction… it’s for research

-But after awhile he’ll get used to this closing his eyes thing and get more into the kisses

-They’re usually soft and slow, hands roaming everywhere because he just wants to feel you to make sure you’re really here… that you’re really his and this is actually happening

-L loves you to death (pun not intended)

-Expect there to be a plate of sweets everywhere you go because L is addicted to sugar

-At this point in the relationship you probably are too

-Oh well… constant sweets… what could be better?

-Dates will probably only happen inside your apartment/house or hotel room at the time

-If you haven’t noticed, L is kinda anti-social

-Because of this he would probably prefer to have a at home date with you

-Cuddling while eating sweets that you guys baked together then binge watching shows and movies together for the rest of the time? Sign me up!

-Nicknames with L are super pure and cute

-His favorite one to use for you is probably “my love”

-Other nicknames include: “my partner in crime”, “sweet cheeks”, and “baby doll”

-Sometimes L will have nightmares where you died or something else horrible happened and you’ll have to be there to reassure him that nothing’s going to happen will probably end in a make-out session to prove your point

-L probably sleep talks during said nightmares, leading to you confronting him about the nightmares and just being there for him to vent and hug him close once he admits he’s afraid of losing you

-Like that’s ever going to happen

-This boy has tighter security on you than the president of the United States… or the queen of England even!

-Claims he just wants to protect you but you know it’s because of the nightmares so you just let it slide

-Honestly this relationship is just full of pure love for one another

-Please just hurry up and marry him, you’re not going to get better then this honestly

-”I love you L~”

-”I love you too Y/N… so much my love~”

see you through my eyes part 2 —b.b.

pairing: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x fm mitchell! reader.

warnings: cursing, drinking, unprotected penetrative sex, oral (fm receiving), choking, dirty talk, lots of fluff stuff, bradley bradshaw is a FUCKING TEASE, mentions of poor mental health, mentions of death/immediate family death/funerals. 18+ MINORS DNI

word count: 2.6k

read part one here.

a/n: like always, this is not proofread yet so i apologize for any mistakes. i hope you all enjoy! y’all i love this man!!!!!!!

The night air was warm and welcoming, pushing your hair around with the breeze. Some old rock music, yours and Bradley’s favorite, played from a nearby speaker. The two of you sat on the patio, each nursing a beer. You hummed cheerfully, the slightest bit tipsy.

The backyard was by far your favorite part of your house. You’d hung up a few sets of string lights, and ofcourse had some of your favorite plants scattered around. The entirety of the yard was fenced in, and although you would love to have a real pool, the small blow-up one you bought for Cameron served an equal purpose.

You and Bradley had been talking for nearly two hours. Simply catching up on life and reminiscing on old memories— sharing many needed laughs.

It had been three days since your mother’s funeral and you still hadn’t fully pieced yourself together. Although, Bradley’s company was a great help. He understood your emotions and the feeling of emptiness you couldn’t seem to get rid of. He made great effort to comfort you, and had made sure Cameron was taken care of so you could have some time to yourself.

Cameron had clung to him, maybe not fully understanding who Bradley was, yet he was absolutely entranced by the man. He wanted to go anywhere Bradley went, and even though you’d explained to the child that his name wasn’t really Rooster, he wouldn’t call him anything else. You were beyond happy to see the two of them together at last. It made your soul feel at ease.

“Hey.” Bradley tapped your arm, pulling you from your aparrent trance. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just thinking.” You spoke softly.

He gave you a small smile and patted his leg. “C’mere.”

You stood up, sitting your nearly empty bottle down on the table before taking a seat on his lap. Your arms wrapped around him and you rested your head on his shoulder. He ran a hand along your back, smiling to himself when he felt you relax.

“Thank you for being here.” You whispered.

“No place I’d rather be in the world.”

Bradley had already expressed to you that he’d made a phone call days earlier as a request to transfer back to Oceana where he’d been stationed at years before. It was bittersweet, the thought of possibly having Bradley back— maybe forever.

He seemed content, openly speaking about the idea of the two of you buying a new house closer to base and Cameron growing up with his father. You eyed him, smiling. There had been minimal talk about the future when it came to you and Bradley. Regardless, you were hopeful.

He reached up, pushing a bit of hair from your face and smiling up at you. “So pretty, darlin.” You made your best efforts not to squirm in his lap at his words. If there was one thing about Bradley Bradshaw that killed you, it was how much of a sweet talker he was. His voice was deep and rich, as sweet as could be. He always knew exactly what to say. “Oh hush.”

“You are.” He chuckled, taking a sip of his beer.

“I look like a sleep deprived mother of a three year old.” You corrected him.

“Yet oh so pretty.”

You looked away, cheeks hot and lips turned up in a smile.

“Look at me.” He teased.

“No, because the more I look at you the more I want to kiss your stupid face.”

“Oh.” He laughed, as if he had dug some confidential information out of you. You mentally cursed yourself, letting out a laugh too. “So kiss me then.”

“No!” You started to pull away from him playfully, knowing if he kissed you, you’d be a goner.

He tightened his grip on you, making you look at him.

You swallowed hard, eyes closing as you gave in and let him pull you into a sweet kiss. The feeling of his lips on yours was reminiscent, and had you feeling as if you were going to melt. You felt him smile into the kiss, your tongues meeting languidly. After a few seconds, you both pulled away.

“I think it’s past your bedtime.” Bradley joked, finishing his beer and trying to settle himself down. He wanted nothing more than to take you right there, like old times— but he knew that wasn’t respectful nor appropriate. So, he watched you shyly climb off his lap and start to gather up empty bottles.

“I believe it’s probably past yours too, Lieutenant.” You smiled.

“Oh, very much so.”

When you climbed into bed that night, you immediately knew you wouldn’t be getting much sleep. Your mind was running absolutely rampant, and for a moment you considered taking a melatonin or two. The feeling of his lips and hands on you was inescapable, and your thoughts were well, very improper. Even though you and Bradley had a past, he still made you feel giddy— like you’d never been touched before. The ache was inexplicable. God, you felt like a fucking teenager.

You tossed and turned for a while, tangling yourself in the cool sheets. The lack of tiredness was aggravating to say the very least. Yet, there you laid.

An hour or two passed before you gave up, grabbing your phone off the nightstand and scrolling aimlessly to try to pass some time.

Another hour and a mental pep talk later, you were padding down the hall towards the guest room. Your heartbeat was rapid and adrenaline high.

You slowly opened the door, attempting to make the quietest entrance possible. The room was dark besides a minimal amount of moonlight peeking through the closed curtains. Closing the door behind you, you made your way to the bed. Bradley laid sprawled out in the middle of the mattress, tangled in the soft white sheets.

He stirred a bit as you climbed in next to him.

"You okay?" He mumbled, now awake and looking over at you with tired eyes.

"Yeah."

"Wanted some cuddles?" He teased.

"Something like that."

He turned over as you spoke, watching you scoot closer. He let out a yawn, trying to decipher the look on your face.

"Roos."

"What is it baby?"

"I want you to touch me." You begged. "Please."

You craved him in every way possible. Wanted him all over you. It had been all you could think about since he stepped foot in your damn house.

He leaned forward without another word or thought, pressing his lips to yours. Tongues met and hands wandered, leaving your head spinning. Bradley gripped your thigh, tossing your leg over his waist and pulling you as close as he could get you. Boy, had you missed this. Ofcourse the two of you were older and the circumstances were much more.. sensual this time. A warm hand ran along your bare leg and up to your hip where he discovered you were wearing only a tee shirt and panties. He groaned lightly, breaking the kiss and moving his lips along your jawline. "What do you want, honey?" He rasped.

"Want your mouth." You said, nearly breathless.

He smiled softly, pressing another mellow kiss to your lips before beginning to trail them down your neck. Hands moved to push up your tee shirt, revealing your bare chest. "So fucking pretty." He said. "Just like I remember." You whimpered, feeling his warm tongue run across your nipple before his lips wrapped around it— his fingers toying with the other. Your skin was on fire, mouth dry and breathing erratic— and he had barely touched you. He repositioned himself to lay between your legs, pressing tiny kisses to your hips and thighs. You were absolutely aching for his touch, squirming pitifully underneath him. "Honey." He mused. "So touch starved, aren't you? Need me to eat this pretty pussy bad, huh?"

You whined at his words, clenching around absolutely nothing. "Please Roos."

Long fingers worked to pull your panties down your legs before he tossed them to the floor. "Gotta be quiet for me, sweet baby. I'm gonna give you what you want— don't worry." You were nearly in a trance at this point, overwhelmed by his touch. He held your legs open, finally running his tongue along you in a long stripe. A long, lewd sounding whine left your lips, which didn't go unnoticed. Bradley found himself grinding his hips into the mattress just to find some friction. "You always make the prettiest noises." He whispered, tongue starting to work mercilessly at your clit. You writhed, wanting to scream as you felt two long fingers slide into you. "Fuck." You cried, eyes clamped shut. He was so fucking good at everything. His fingers made quick work and had you nearly falling apart. "So wet, honey." 

You gripped the sheets beneath you with one hand, the other flying to his hair. Fingers wandered through, yanking gently and making him groan. He could tell you were close, clenching oh so tight around his fingers. "Gonna cum all over my fingers, mama?" He murmured against you, tongue still working relentlessly. You did your very best not to cry out as you fell over the edge. "Fuck yes." He said through gritted teeth, pumping his fingers in and out and working you through your high. "So pretty when you're cumming for me."

You were spent, body falling limp as you tried to catch your breath. Bradley stayed quiet, gently pulling you to the edge of the bed where he now stood. As much as he wanted to see your pretty lips wrapped around him, he couldn't handle much more.

"You sure this is okay, darlin’?" He asked politely, watching you nod in agreeance.

Bradley huffed as he ran himself along your soaked entrance. He already knew he wasn't going to last long. Not with those pretty little noises that kept falling from your lips. He pressed the head in, watching your eyes flutter shut and brows furrow. "You can take it." He promised. You'd never gotten used to the stretch. He was by far the biggest you'd experienced. He pushed in slowly, groaning. You wrapped around him deliciously, so fucking hot and wet. "That's my girl." He cooed, pressing wet kisses to your forehead and nose. "Takin' me so good, sweetheart." He finally bottomed out, heart racing and sweat forming on his brow. You opened your eyes again, looking at him and watching a smile spread across his lips.

"I missed you." He admitted, starting to rock against you slow. He kept a tight grip on your thighs, tight enough to leave little bruises from where his fingertips dug into your skin. You, ofcourse, didn't mind.

"I missed you more."

It was all you could do to stay quiet. Small sounds and his name repeatedly fell from your lips. You watched his face intently, his teeth tugging on his plump bottom lip. His hips smacked against you as he exhibited a pace that had you seeing stars. A warm hand extended to wrap lazily around the delicate skin of your neck. Bradley sighed, keeping up his motions as he toyed with your air supply. You were absolutely in heaven, placing one of your hands over his and meeting his eyes. "My dirty baby. You like being choked don't you?" He said, voice breaking. You nodded, letting out a whine. "So pretty." He cooed.

"Roos." You sounded absolutely wrecked.

"I know, honey." He choked out between thrusts, starting to fall apart himself. "I feel you— Be a good girl and cum again for me." Tears brimmed in your eyes as everything slowly became too much— too fucking good. He reached down, drawing quick circles around your clit as he pressed his lips to your own. You let out a broken cry, coil snapping and your legs shaking the slightest bit as you came apart beneath him.

"Just like that, baby. Fuck." Bradley praised, fucking you through it— thrusts sloppy and fast. He was obviously close himself. You felt out of body, softly gasping for air, eyes fluttering. "Want your cum, Roos." You pleaded, taking in the man before you in all of his glory. There truly was no one like him.

"Ah, shit baby." He groaned, hips snapping against yours a few more times before he pulled out swiftly, hand moving to run along his shaft and the most erotic noise falling from his lips as he came on your tummy. He hummed, euphoria pumping through his veins. His eyes searched for yours and lips turned up in a smile as sweet as honey. "Y'Did so good for me, mama." He said, kissing your forehead. "You are something else."

Rooster dissapeared into the darkness of the room, wandering over to the connected guest bathroom. You could hear a few drawers opening and closing before he made his way back over to you with a damp rag. He wiped you clean lovingly, sharing a smile with you before he laid down next to you. You both stayed silent as you came down. Warm bodies tangled together and soon enough you were unable to keep your eyes open.

When you awoke hours later, the sun was shining proudly through the curtains. The house smelled like coffee and you could clearly hear cartoons playing from the living room. You stretched, reaching down to the end of the bed where Rooster had laid your tee shirt. A smile you couldn't fight formed on your pink lips at the thought of what had happened earlier. You made your way first to your bedroom, slipping on some pajama shorts before you walked towards the living room.

"There's mommy!" Rooster cheered, catching the attention of your son who raced over to you and latched onto your leg. "Hey there, lovebug." You chuckled, kneeling down to press an exaggerated kiss to both of his cheeks, making him giggle.

Rooster watched in complete adoration, sipping his coffee. This— this is what he wanted for the rest of his life. Cameron turned his attention back to the tv and his toys, and you made your way to where Rooster sat.

"Morning, sweet thing." He said. You laughed softly, leaning to press your lips to his. "You hungry? You should be after all those calories you burned last night."

"Oh shut up." You smacked his arm, chuckling.

"I made pancakes. Me and Cam ate already since Mommy was still being a sleepyhead."

"That is alllll Daddy's fault." You joked, sharing a laugh with him.

"Maybe Daddy needs to teach Mommy another lesson." Rooster grinned, watching you walk towards the kitchen.

"Rooster!" You yelled.

"Rooser!" Cameron copied you, yelling out.

You broke into a fit of laughter, as did Bradley. He joined you in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and sparking up conversation as you ate breakfast. It was then that you remembered he’d be leaving in a mere two days.

“I was thinking we could take a little ride to the beach today.” He spoke up. “Then we can come back and make dinner— and I should probably start packing my stuff.”

“Promise you’re coming back?”

“One week and I’ll be back on a plane home to you.” He leaned forward to steal a kiss. “I promise.”

“I’m sorry you have to make so many changes.”

“Nope, don’t you start that. Transferring is my decision.” He stopped you. “Listen, i’m gonna be back here in a week.” He reiterated, gripping your shoulders. “And you and me are going to figure this out day by day. This is where I want to be.”

“You’re sure?” You frowned.

“Yes honey, I’m sure.” He chuckled. “Stop beating yourself up, please.”

“Sorry, it’s a habit.” You half smiled.

He pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and playfully grabbing a handful of ass, earning a little squeal from you.

“I can’t wait to have another baby with you.”

You threw your head back laughing, pulling away from him and hearing him let out an adorable sounding laugh as well.

“Oh, shut up.” You headed down the hall, cheeks a bright shade of red.

“—‘S the truth!”

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Nolite Celare.

Genre: Humor (?), Fluff, Friends to Lovers! & Smut (Hogwarts! AU) 

Pairing: Wong Yukhei (Lucas) x Reader Ft. Jaehyun the Matchmaker

Word Count: 9.3k-ish 

Note: It’s got a lot of inaccuracies in regards to the rules and what not at Hogwarts and some made up spells, sorry! But I hope you like the fic overall! 

“Class dismissed. I’ll see you all after winter break with the 10-page assignment on unicorns and their magical properties.” Your professor announces as loudly as she can, though it’s still drowned out by the sound of students eagerly stuffing their books into their bags and scurrying hastily out of the room. 

Though you like to take your time to avoid the crowd, you could relate to the sentiment. Most of them are probably excited for the second event of the Triwizard tournament, the following Yule Ball and the fact that there’ll be no more classes for the next three weeks. 

You, however, have already witnessed enough excitement in your second year when you’d seen the tournament for the first time. Now, in your seventh year and on the eve of your leave from Hogwarts, you find your mind occupied with much more important things such as the Auror exams. 

That and well, your best friend, Yukhei. 

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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.

ANGEL, 001

pairings: peter ballard x reader

warnings: soft smut, fingering, cockwarming, p in v, praise kink

song i was listening to while writing this:

you layed on your stomach, your legs slowly swaying back and forth behind you, your hand under your chin to keep your exhausted head up as your eyes skimmed over the lines of the romance novel you were reading infront of you

you were only wearing an oversized top with panties beneath since nobody was around and your white room in the lab was filled with a slight cold breeze from the curtain covered window that was opened ajar, your blanket barely covering your back as your double bed offered comfort from beneath you

this was one of the only times you had alone time in the lab, 8pm when the children were sent off to bed after their scheduled dinner and every orderly and most nurses were sent off to their assigned rooms for the night

usually you would lie there bored until you fell asleep considering you've read every book in the building but one of your friends who worked as a nurse handed you this book, told you to read it so you decided to and honestly you liked it a lot more than you thought you would

licking the tip of your finger gently, you flipped over to the other page only for your reading to be interrupted by the click of your room door opening which was strange considering usually if dr brenner or a guard needed you they would knock

you immediately looked up, a confused expression on your tired face only for that to be quickly discarded for a happy and pleasant smile when you noticed it was only your lover peter who entered, the door closing silently behind him

"hello gorgeous" he greeted quietly before walking over as you discarded your book onto the nighstand and stood up, greeting him back with a soft welcoming peck to his lips "you know you can't be here" you giggled softly, a hint of mischief in your voice

he chuckled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear "i wanted to see you" he whispered like it was the most obvious thing in the world before diving down and placing soft kisses against your bare neck causing you to gasp from the tickles that his lips left

"peter" you laughed, slightly moving away and wrapping your hands around his neck as yous placed your foreheads together doing your daily eskimo kiss that always made you blush and smile

"y/n" he cooed back, plastering little kisses all over your flushed face but you knew by the way he was acting that and by his sudden appearance that he was clearly wanting something

"what's on your mind?" you asked, taking his hand and leading him to sit with you on your bed "you" he replied, stating the obvious before pulling you onto his lap so your legs were on either side of him and your faces were inches apart

you rolled your eyes playfully, placing both your hands on his clothed chest "what is really on your mind?" you asked again, moving your right hand from his chest to cup his face gently while placing a quick kiss on his forehead

he pursed his lips for a moment like he was contemplating whether to really say what was on his mind or not, you sighed "come on, you can tell me" you assured him, stroking his cheek gently

"i heard of this thing called cockwarming and was wondering if you wanted to try it?" he offered, burying his head into your shoulder before kissing your collarbone

you were always up for anything he wanted to try but you had never heard of cockwarming before "um sure honey, but what is it?" you asked innocently, he moved his head back to face you, his eyes darkened slightly with lust

"it's where we lie down and cuddle but with my cock buried deep inside you" he whispered into your ear lowly, tugging on your earlobe with his teeth while rubbing his warm hands up and down your cold thighs sending a shiver down your spine as you felt wetness pool between your legs

you definitely liked the idea of that, you smiled shyly and nodded causing him to send you a smile back before moving to flip you onto your back and crawl on top of you, hooking one of your legs around his waist as he pushed your top up, placing his palm on your lower abdomen, slowly raking it down to the band of your panties

"you're so beautiful" he breathed out, pulling your panties down your legs and throwing them onto the floor before placing his thumb against your soaked clit, rubbing it in circular motions causing you to let out a surprised whimper

he placed a finger inside you, thrusting slowly causing you to grip his wrist as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your lips as he quickened the pace, adding another finger shortly after causing you to grip his wrist even tighter from the pleasure that was building up

"p-peter please" you whined into his lips breathlessly, he smirked slightly as your high began to approach but he quickly pulled his fingers out causing you to frown from the loss of your orgasm

he brought his finger to his mouth, licking off your juices as he leaned back to reach down and unbuckle his belt, pulling his trousers and boxers off

you watched as his hard cock sprung out, clamping your thighs together in an attempt for any type of friction at the sight "look at you, wanting my cock so badly princess, you're so good for me" he hummed, leaning down to kiss your nose sending butterflies to your stomach

once he had completely discared himself of all his clothes, helping you to take your top off aswell; he got into your bed and pulled your back into his chest so yous were lying in a sideway position

you grabbed the fluffy blanket and brought it up to cover you both, he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and placed more kisses on your shoulder before pulling your leg up and rubbing his tip along your wet heat "peter" you whined at his teasing

he chuckled, sliding his hard dick into you slowly until it filled you to the brim then he wrapped his arms around you pulling you to flush against his chest, placing his head against the side of yours and kissing your cheek

you could feet your pussy fluttering at the feeling, you were already so turned on and sensitive from him fingering you that you really just wanted him to move inside of you but you knew he wanted this so you stayed as still as you could

"i love you angel" he whispered into your ear, kissing your cheek but when you reached around to kiss his lips it caused your hips to move against his resulting in a low moan erupting from the blondes mouth

"fuck, i can't do this" he grunted, hooking his arm under your leg to pull it up before he started thrusting into you at an alarming speed, you leaned your head back into his shoulder as little strings of moans and curses left your mouth

"you feel so good" he murmured, his dick sliding in and out of you as his hand left your leg to grab onto one of your breasts, pinching at your nipple and massaging it intensifying your pleasure

you could feel a knot forming in the pit of your stomach "b-baby i'm going to-" you could barely form a sentence as the feeling was getting to much, he knew what you were saying though "me too sweetheart, me too" he replied, his rhythm getting sloppier which showed you that he was

"let's cum together" he moaned, you nodded as the knot in your stomach began to release causing your legs to shake as the feeling of euphoria took over your body, low groans coming from peters mouth filled your ears as his hot seed filled you up

yous stayed like that for a few seconds before he pulled out, his cum leaking out of you "i love you so much" he whispered to you before pulling you into a loving kiss

"i love you too peter"

Nolite Celare.

Genre: Humor (?), Fluff, Friends to Lovers! & Smut (Hogwarts! AU) 

Pairing: Wong Yukhei (Lucas) x Reader Ft. Jaehyun the Matchmaker

Word Count: 9.3k-ish 

Note: It’s got a lot of inaccuracies in regards to the rules and what not at Hogwarts and some made up spells, sorry! But I hope you like the fic overall! 

“Class dismissed. I’ll see you all after winter break with the 10-page assignment on unicorns and their magical properties.” Your professor announces as loudly as she can, though it’s still drowned out by the sound of students eagerly stuffing their books into their bags and scurrying hastily out of the room. 

Though you like to take your time to avoid the crowd, you could relate to the sentiment. Most of them are probably excited for the second event of the Triwizard tournament, the following Yule Ball and the fact that there’ll be no more classes for the next three weeks. 

You, however, have already witnessed enough excitement in your second year when you’d seen the tournament for the first time. Now, in your seventh year and on the eve of your leave from Hogwarts, you find your mind occupied with much more important things such as the Auror exams. 

That and well, your best friend, Yukhei. 

Keep reading

“Oh, Spencer took that one...”

so i read @reidbyers’s ask post about librarians and spencer and while reading it, this sentence caught my attention: “sometimes he takes so many books out that a lot of the time people come in looking for a certain book and they have to be like sorry…spencer took that one and 21 more.” and it gave me an idea/insp for a small little one shot, so thanks @wheresthewater and @reidbyers for unknowingly giving me this idea! also i’m so sorry if this feels rushed! 

While studying to get your doctorate in Psychology, you were fortunate enough to have every book you need for all of your classes at your fingertips, whether having your parents supply them for you or finding links to it online. While writing a paper, you noticed the assignment had some references from your very early Intro to Psych book. You realized quickly that you were going to need to go to the library; you had since given that book to a nice underclassman. 

You didn’t mind, but occasionally, a book you wanted to check out would be gone and they always said the same thing.

“Sorry honey, it looks like Spencer has that book out at the moment.”

“Well it looks like Dr. Reid has that book.”

“Yup. Spencer again.”

It seemed like every time you needed a book from the library, Dr. Spencer Reid would check it out before you. The three main, kind elderly librarians found it amusing every time you mentioned a book he had checked out. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think they were conspiring against you.

Sighing, you grabbed your shoulder bag and keys and made your way out of your brick brownstone apartment building. “If this Spencer has my book this time, I might just scream…” You muttered to yourself as you walked down the street. Luckily the library was only a few blocks from your place. You could smell the air and could tell it was going to rain. You picked up your pace.

Walking in the large building, you smelled the books and smiled. 

“Well hi, baby, what’re you looking for?” Came from Franny, your favorite librarian, knowing your routine by now.

“Hi Franny,” you grinned at her. “Do you have this book?” You handed her a crumbled piece of paper with the title of the book on it.

“Hmm,” Franny entered the title in her desktop and smiled knowingly. “I’m sorry hone–”

“Let me guess,” you rolled your eyes.

“Spencer has it,” you both said in unison. One cheerfully, and one tired. You guess who’s who.

“God, I’d love to give this Spencer a piece of my mind,” you shook your head. “He consistently checks out every book I want and I actually need this one!” You exclaimed. 

“What for?” Franny asked. 

“It’s my final. Our professor decided against a test final and just gave us a paper final. It counts for over half our grade and I know if I use the material in this book, I know I’ll ace that final…you see, I’m gonna make a callback reference to our intro to psycho book that’s gonna tie up my entire paper in a cute little bow.” You rambled, a bad habit you’ve gained whenever you become desperate for something. “I’m sorry,” you said. “You probably didn’t need to hear this, Franny.” You shook your head. “I’ll just check back tomorrow,” you turned and left quickly.

If you looked back, you’d seen Franny pursing her lips, pick up the phone, and dial a number. “Hi Spencer. It’s Franny. I’m sorry to bother you but I have a need for a book you checked out.”

You chewed on your lip as you walked into the library for the third day in a row. You weren’t expecting the book to be there today or any other day, but you had to at least check. Especially since your paper was due in three days. You inhaled as the familiar smell reached you again, a smile on your face, placating you for the time being. Today at the desk, was Esther, a particularly nosy woman.

“Hi Esther, any luck today?” You asked, already knowing the answer. 

“Actually, maybe!” She answered you. “Spencer is coming by today to drop off some books and pick some up, so maybe your book will be in the bunch!” She offered. 

You raised your eyebrow. “With my luck, probably not. But I finally get to meet this allusive Spencer.” You took a seat at the bench next to the main desk where the librarians worked and pulled out your laptop. It was a normal seat for you whenever you wanted to spend time at the library.

“Do you want some lemon bars, sweetie?” Esther, the known cook of the three main librarians, placed two lemon bars next to you. 

“Thank you, Esther,” you grinned thankfully at her. 

Deep into your studies, you didn’t noticed that an hour had gone past or that the other two librarians, Franny and Dorothy snuck in.

“Is he comin’?” Dorothy, with her deep southern accent, asked. 

“Yes, Dorothy. He told me he’d be here at 4:15 and that boy never lies to me,” Esther replied, rolling her eyes.

“You sure this is gonna work?” Franny asked, pushing her gray curls aside. “What if they don’t like each other?”

“Fran, those two couldn’t be a better match. My Henry (God rest his soul) told me I had a knack for seeing lovers,” Esther nodded. 

“That’s cuz you were always putting your nose in places it shouldn’t be –” Franny began to rebut but was interrupted by Dorothy. 

“Shhh, he’s coming!”

Sure enough, walking to the desk was Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU. Trademark cardigan, scarf, and shoulder bag on. “Hi ladies, is something special going on? It’s rare to see you all here at the same time. Although I get the library’s newsletter sent to me every month and I didn’t see any events happening today to warrant you all here at the same time today.” He began to ramble. 

“Oh Spencer, don’t you worry about us,” Franny waved him off.

At the mention of the familiar name, your head popped up.

“I see you’re returning some books. May I check them in for you? Y/N here has been needing one you might have for quite some time now,” Dorothy grabbed the books from Spencer’s hand and slid them over to Esther. “Now leave us old ladies be to check these back in.” She shooed him away.

“So you’re the famous Spencer Reid,” you said as you saw him approach the bench next to you. “I’m not sure if its a pleasure to meet you or not,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Excuse me?” Spencer was taken aback. He saw you and blinked. You were beautiful. His mouth went dry, his heart stuttered, he felt a wave of adrenaline rush through him. 

You couldn’t help yourself. No matter how good looking he turned out to be, you thought to yourself. The rage built. “Every time I want to check out a book from here, you always have it, every single time! And sometimes you keep the books for months on end!” You huffed.

“Statistically, that’s impossible. There’s no possible way that every single time you need a book, I somehow have it,” Spencer challenged. Your voice sounded beautiful to his ears. He wanted to hear more of it. At least when it wasn’t filled with anger.

“Ladies?” You asked the librarians, without turning your back from Spencer.

“Yup.”

“Mhm.”

“Every single time.” Came their replies.

“…” Spencer had no reply to the three snarky librarians.

“Hmm,” you smirked at Spencer.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer said sincerely. “I didn’t know. If I did, I would’ve eagerly give you the books you needed.” I’d give you anything you want or need, his thoughts said, catching him off guard.

“Oh.” Your heart stuttered. He’s so sweet. And handsome. And obviously he reads since he consistently checks books out from here. And you weren’t expecting this response from him. You were fully expecting him to be this alpha male with a bunch of bravado. “W-well, thank you.”

“What book did you need so urgently that Franny called me?” Spencer couldn’t help but ask, the profiler in him begging to do so. The man in him, curious to hear more from her.

You told him the title. “I need it for my final paper. I-I’m getting my doctorate in psychology and I need it for one of my classes.” 

“Spencer has three PhDs,” Esther added, boasting. 

“Esther, hush,” Franny smacked her shoulder. “Let the kids do it by themselves,” she whispered to her.

“Three?” You were impressed. “Wow. You’d have to be kind of a genius to have three PhDs.” You said non nonchalantly. 

“Well, certifiably, I am a genius. I have an IQ of 185 and can read 20,000 words per minute and have an eidetic memory, but I don’t necessarily like to call myself a genius,” Spencer bashfully said. 

“Whoa…” You breathed. “But you’re totally one. A wonderful, brilliant genius,” the statement accidentally slipped out of your mouth and you blushed.

Spencer laughed, blushing as well. “Thank you.” 

You and Spencer engaged in small talk during the time the librarians were checking in more books. In the back of your mind, you were wondering why they were taking so long. They never take this long. But in your Spencer filled haze, you didn’t care. You smiled at each other, both of you taking in the beauty of each other’s smiles. You quickly moved your stuff aside for him to take a seat next to you on the bench. He quickly glanced at your laptop and instantly read part of your paper. The topic quickly jumped to psychology which jumped into talking about people’s minds, which, thanks to Spencer, jumped to odd facts. You were amazing by this man and all he had to offer. He had given you some extra facts to put into your paper.

Meanwhile, the librarians were smiling at the two of you, silently cheering you both on. The women had never seen Spencer smile as large as he did with you and you had never opened up so quickly to another person. It took even Esther a few months before you even gave her a smile. 

From then on, you and Spencer had a standing date at the library. In your bench. Occasionally Spencer would check out a book you’d randomly mentioned before just to rile you up. He was never able to live down the encounter that caused you to meet. While studying one night, Spencer rushed into the library and planted a kiss on your lips, changing your relationship with that. While he made the first move in your relationship, you made the first move in the bedroom. He was scared of his inexperience and you talked him through it. He proved to be a quick learner and with him reading smut novels for experiences and ideas in the bed, you were never ever unsatisfied.  

You both adopted a dog, which you named Esther because of the dog’s keen sense of smell. Esther found it hilarious and promptly kissed you both on the cheek. “About time you named something after me! I’d better get a baby named after me!” She cackled. 

The team noticed he was always happier and sometimes would walk in with his hair and ties ruffled. Luke could’ve sworn he saw a hickie on Spencer’s neck during a case. When he asked the boy genius about it, he immediately blushed at the memory.

“I want to try something,” you said shyly one night. 

“What?” Spencer smiled, holding you in his lap. He furrowed his brow at your shyness. You’d gotten over that long before. 

“I know you have sensory issues, but…I just want you to feel. Don’t think, but feel,” you told him as you wrapped your arms around him. 

“I don–” He was cut off by you kissing his neck. He laughed, “Y/N, I have no problem with you kissing my — oh.” He felt a wet vacuum on his neck. He could feel your tongue working on his neck, the feeling new to him. It caused a stirring in his body. The same stirring he got when he was aroused. He couldn’t help himself as he grabbed your face and kissed you.

“Spence, I wasn’t done!” You exclaimed. 

Spencer quickly removed your shirt. “And I’m just getting started,” he smiled.

Time passed quickly, yet slowly in your relationship. You were both so happy together. You didn’t know if you could be happier. He had come to your graduation, where you first met the team. They were suspicious and thought he relapsed so they followed him to you. The team loved you instantly. You quickly became a part of the family. JJ and Derek often called you and Spencer to baby sit. You kept your standing date at the library, even though you had no need of studying anymore. The three librarians always happy to see you both.

One day you went to the library to see all of them there. That never happened. Unless, like Spencer said the day you met, there was an event. And you knew there wasn’t. “What’re you ladies doing here?” You asked cheerfully.

“Oh no reason, darlin’,” Dorothy told you, looking like the cat who swallowed the canary. Actually, they all looked like that. 

To your surprise, Spencer proposed to you. In that library. On that bench. The squeals from the ladies were deafening. You swore they cheered even louder than Spencer’s team at your wedding. They each made long toasts, the guests confused at first. Esther’s was full of details you both hadn’t known she knew. “Nosy old bat,” Franny had said. Esther had the entire room cackle with laughter. Dorothy’s speech was filled with many, many southern phrasings and accounts of key moments of your relationship which she was witness to. She was always the one you came to during struggles in your relationship. And Franny’s was filled with wisdom, love, and hope. She was the one who orchestrated your first meeting.

No one was surprised, however, when you became pregnant immediately after your wedding; the both of you eager to start a family. Everyone was surprised when your water broke in that fateful library. On your bench. While Spencer panicked and called, in order, the team, then the ambulance. Luckily the three ladies had all enrolled in midwifery quickly after your first meeting and helped you deliver your first child, Diana Dorothy, in that library. On your bench. 

You were happy to inform Esther, a year after giving birth to your first son, that his first word was ‘Esther’. “This is better than having a baby named after me!” She hooted.

Unfortunately, with the times, the three ladies eventually passed. Esther first, Dorothy quickly after, then Franny held on long enough to see the birth of your third child, a girl you’d decided to call Francis Esther. In each of the ladies’ will, there was one statement that remained the same. “Give the library bench to Drs. Spencer and Y/N Reid. It has always been theirs.” 

That bench sat in the library of your home with Spencer, underneath a beautiful window where you’d told your children stories of the three ladies who were responsible for everything they knew.