#this got completely out of hand and i'm not sorry at all :)))))

[burnforyou]

STUDY - LUIGI MANGIONE x READER

!SUMMARY! cunnilingus (female receiving), thigh grinding, smut. guys I need him I'm sorry. he has a very sittable face so here’s this. also this is short and kinda lazy but still hot so its okay!

it started innocently: rewarding him every time he got an answer right. with a kiss. as you sit on his lap in a short skirt that looks straight out of a porno.

until it turned into grinding on his thigh. his thick, muscular thigh was just too perfect to not grind on.

luigi pretended not to be affected by your antics, but he was getting every practice question wrong, even the ones that he knew, and his cock was raging beneath his zipper. he flexed his thigh and locked up at you, waiting for you to read the next flashcard aloud. instead you gasped at the feeling of his thigh hardening.

"what's it say? read it." he commands.

"I-" you gasp as he grips onto your waist and brings you further up his thigh, your bare thigh now brushing against his cock with every movement. your empty hand falls onto his chest and the other still holds onto his flash cards, forgotten now. "need you," you whimper, your head falling onto his shoulder.

his big hand reaches under your skirt and gropes your ass. you begin leaving a wet spot on his jeans.

"you're so desperate, hm?" he groans into your ear, nipping at your earlobe. all you can do is whine in reply. he breathes harder and you feel his chest rising faster and faster.

"what do you need? tell me, y/n"

"I need you to fuck me," you whimper into his neck. before you know it, he's lifting you up on his desk and he's on his knees in front of you. his dark eyes flicker between your pussy and your eyes.

he leaves wet kisses on the inside of your thigh, approaching your pussy with delicacy.

"you're so wet for me." he says, sucking on your inner thigh, trying to leave a mark.

you grind onto his face desperately and whine.

"please, Luigi."

at the sound of your voice, he licks his lips and plants them on yours. your hips buck and your clit grazes his big nose. he grips your thighs and throws them over his shoulder, leaving him completely enthralled in your pussy. he shamelessly indulges in your smell, a carnal need for you shining through. he gazes up at your face, completely blissed out, almost at peace.

"you taste so good," he says into you, his teeth lightly scathing against you. you look down at him and grip onto his hair, pulling on his curls. he feverishly eats you like a starved man. it almost feels like worship, him on his knees before you, worshiping your body, treating you like a goddess.

his tongue lapping at your juices creates a lewd sound that's almost music to your ears. your thighs tighten around his head and bring him impossibly closer to you.

pressure begins to build up in your stomach and he feels you pulsing on his lips. in return, he laps at you deeper than before and pinches your clit.

"cum," he demands, groaning, "cum on my face."

you follow his command, cumming hard all over him. your back arches off the desk and you grasp onto his curls harder. he laps up all of your juices, not leaving a single drop. you ride out your orgasm by grinding all over his face, loving the pressure from his big nose on your hole.

he finally comes up from between your legs and smiles down at you fucked out on his desk. his face is almost completely covered in your juices, his lips and nose glistening. he leans down and kisses you deeply, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. your hand traces the shape of his body down to his cock, and you gasp at the wet stickiness you feel.

"did you cum?" you break the kiss and whisper, palming the wet spot on his crotch.

"i-" he looks away, searching for something to say that wont make him lose all of his dignity. you grasp his face with your other hand and force him to look into your eyes.

"don't be embarrassed."

"I just love making you feel good." he says, ashamed. you pull him into you for a final kiss, claiming his lips against yours.

MASTERLIST - PREV. WORK

!TAGS!

@strawbrriess @bellobambino @f4nfic-lover @btcowboy @chmpgneprblem @soggysouppp @hereandqueer6540 @poohkie90 @bricapallen16 @miarosalie11 @v1rtualsalvat10n @hypnotizedbyhood

[lambentblood]

[ID: A series of images arranged within the post in a collage format.

Image 1: Text reading, "I have buried you in every place I've been. You keep ending up in my shaking hands."

Image 2: A still of a dark theater, from "I Saw the TV Glow." It is captioned, "Someone buried alive and suffocating to death."

Image 3: A still of Isabel's face, upset. It is captioned, "She's buried under ground."

Image 4: All lowercase text reading, "I want to go home, I want to go home, but what I mean, what I'm grasping for, is not a place, it's a feeling. I want to go back. But back where?"

Image 5: An oil pastel illustration of 2 pairs of hands, holding each other. The illustration is mainly blue and pink, though streaks of other colors are layered throughout.

Image 6: A still of Tara holding Isabel's hand.

Image 7: Text reading, "I lost sight of myself so long ago that I'm hesitant to try to find myself. I'm afraid to begin. Existing sometimes gives me heart palpitations. I'm so afraid to be me."

Image 8: A still of Isabel's open, empty grave at the football field.

Image 9: Text on a brown, neutral background, from Disco Elysium. It reads, "2 - I want to go back to the completely different world. The see-through world with you."

Image 10: A still of Tara's side profile in blue lighting in the planetarium. It is captioned, "$50 to bury me alive."

Image 11: Text reading, "How did everything go so wrong? How can I get myself out of this mess?" After a line break, "...Do something. Do something. Do something."

Image 12: A still of Tara from the waist up in the planetarium. It is captioned, "I apologized for the whole thing."

Image 13: A still of Isabel hurrying through the arcade at work. It is captioned, "I'm sorry about before."

Image 14: Part of a screenplay. It reads,

"SPIKE: Her hands. DAWN: I was gonna fix 'em. I don't know how they got like that. SPIKE: I do. Clawed her way out of a coffin, that's how. (To Buffy) Isn't that right? Buffy looks at her hands like they belong to someone else. BUFFY: I... Yes. I had to do that. SPIKE: Done it myself."

Image 15: A still of Tara in the planetarium. It is captioned, "Gasping for air, rain pouring down on me."

Image 16: A still of Isabel looking in the bathroom mirror at work.

Image 17: Text that reads, "Love is the only force that allows us to hold one another close beyond the grave. That is why knowing how to love each other is also a way of knowing how to die."

Image 18: A still of an analog TV burning.

Image 19: Text reading, "From the ashes, I rise. I am blooming into something beautiful." The words, " I am blooming into something beautiful," are highlighted.

End ID.]

On graves, and resurfacing from the ashes (in tandem)

justin vernon, i saw the tv glow, julie bunton, hannah lock, catherynn m. valente, disco elysium, buffy the vampire slayer, bell hooks, melody lee

[enhaeil]

IT'S JUST A TKO! ☆ RIIZE

"baby, now I don't really know what we're fighting for. this rematch sex is amazing, but nobody wins if somebody's heart is swole"

tko - justin timberlake

make-up sex with ot7!riize

c/w: somnophilia kinda, suggestive, not full on smut but we gettin there

☆

shotaro

you won't even lie. shotaro didn't do anything to you. you just felt like picking a fight. and he knew that. but he decided to let you get your little tantrum out. after a while, he just gets annoyed and tries to lean in to kiss on your neck. you instead push him away with an attitude, looking one way. the car is silent as he stares at the side of your face as if he's trying to get a read on you, before he quickly unbuckles his seatbelt and reaches over you to let back your seat. "taro...what're you doing?"

"solving the problem." he says before lifting up your skirt and devouring you in his front seat. best believe that attitude was gone afterward.

eunseok

you have had an attitude ALL day literally. why? because you didn't get your way. your way being eunseok. you guys were on the way to dinner and you started to feel needy. as he parked you started tying your hair up ready to suck him off in the lot but he stopped you. "girl, are you crazy?" he says chuckling at you.

that really ticked you off and you played in his face the whole night; touching him under the table, making unnecessary noises, and bending down knowing good and well that dress is short.

you already know eunseok do not play that at all. he played it smooth and romantic that whole night until y'all hit that car. he forces you into the back seat as he takes his suit jacket off.

"you wanna get fucked so bad, hm? bend the fuck over."

sungchan

you really messed up this time. usually, arguments with sungchan get resolved maturely, but this time it was you who said some things that shouldn't have been said. he locks himself in your shared room for hours before you finally put your pride aside and check on him. you see him sleeping peacefully, sleep shirt rising up a little, giving you a glimpse of his happy trail. you then get a bright idea; head as an apology.

you slowly climb on top of him, bringing his sweats down. you palm him until he's hard before you lick at his tip to test the waters. he doesn't stir one bit. you then completely take him in your mouth, and that's when he shoots up groggily.

"b-baby, what're you doing-" he says before it gets cut off with his own moans.

"apologizing."

wonbin

whenever you and wonbin argued, he was the ceo of 'idgaf'. he acted like you being mad at him barely phased him when really he was going crazy every second you didn't speak to him. he was losing hearing in his left eye and taste in his right.

you had enough of this nonchalant persona, though. you decided to mess with him. walking around the house in your sluttiest dress, making sure to 'accidentally' drop something on your way by, puffing out your chest; yet he didn't crack one bit.

you finally give up and change into your typical sleepwear, put your hair up, and crawled into bed facing away from him. it's silent for a minute before you hear shuffling from behind you and then something hard against your back.

"wonbin.." he pressed his face into your neck as he absentmindedly rubbed himself against you.

"i'm sorry, y/n. please touch me."

seunghan

seunghan fucked up. he forgot your date and you were not happy about it. you decided to isolate yourself in your shared bedroom before seunghan comes wondering in and plops himself onto the bed. he waits for you to acknowledge his presence, but you just keep scrolling. he presses experimental kisses on your stomach before they trail their way down. "y/n...talk to me." you still don't even spare him a glance. his fingers work at the button of your shorts before he slides his hands to feel over your panties. you can't help but react to his touch.

"you still mad at me?"

sohee

you and sohee just came from an event, and a guy got a little too close to you. usually, he doesn't get angry, especially not at you, but for some reason, today it really ticked him off. "y/n, don't you see he was flirting with you?"

"sohee you're being dramatic." you say sighing with an eye roll.

"bet." the rest of the car ride home was silent and you can't lie you were a bit nervous. this wasn't your typical sweet sohee, this was somebody else.

—

"i'll show you dramatic." he says thrusting into you at an extremely harsh pace, damn near rearranging your guts. "sohee...slow down please"

he doesn't listen to you and instead pushes one of your legs up causing him to press deeper into you. "he fuck you like this?"

anton

anton's honestly not even taking this argument seriously. you're yelling at him about god knows what, hell, he doesn't even know how he got here. what he does know is that his goddess of a girlfriend looks hot when she's angry. "baby..." he begins to say before you cut him off.

"no, anton, you need to listen to me. i asked you to stop doing that months ago, and you keep going." anton isn't even the little bit of interested right now. "do you hear me?" you ask folding your arms across your chest.

"yes ma'am. whatever you say captain, just please for the love of god, sit on my face." he says grabbing your waist to bring you into his lap.

a/n: gulp. i just wanted to get this out of my drafts bc i hate it

[cvnntagious]

fb!matt getting flirted with by another girl and he entertains it but then realises he has you

standing beside his brother as he handed out little baggies of white powder to feining college students, matt paid no mind to the party as he scrolled his phone, red solo cup in one hand. the bustling of party-goers and flashing lights surrounding him had faded as he became focused on the mobile game he'd deemed more important.

"excuse me," he suddenly heard from in front of him, causing his eyes to flick up from the multi-colored blocks on his screen, "is your name matthew?" a pretty girl asked, dressed in fishnets with a miniskirt and tight top that barely covered her breasts as she flicked her long black hair over her shoulder.

he nodded, unamused expression unwavering. "matt," he corrected, lifting his hand to gesture a thumb behind him, "chris is the one with the drugs, if that-"

her hand covered his, pushing it down slowly as he shook her head with a smug little smirk splayed across her dark, glossy lips. "i don't want any of those drugs," she stopped him from further wasting his breath, voice a little lower now, "i heard you have one of your own that you're keeping from me though, and- well, i'm lookin' to get my fix."

matt immediately got the hint, a small smirk tugging at his parted lips before he let out an exasperated breath, looking the shorter girl over as he found himself crossing his arms at her. "yeah?" he asked, a chuckle that exuded confidence leaving his mouth, "and where'd y'hear that?"

"a friend—she said what you got won't do anything less than rock my world," she replied instantly, a flirty giggle falling past her pearly whites and eyelashes batting as she looked up at him. "just wanna see if it's true or not..." she then added, stepping in close to him so she could run her sharp, manicured nails up his tattooed arm.

matt's eyes followed her fingers, tongue jutting out to wet his pink lips so he could hold back the leer that threatened to creep onto his face. "mhm." and just as his mouth opened to voice the complacent reply that had popped into his mind, the memory of you having texted him earlier about not being able to make it to chris' party canceled it out, making him realize he'd forgotten to text you back. "shit," he muttered, any sign of interest in the absolutely stunning girl that was so clearly throwing herself at him completely dropping in his body language.

she quickly noticed the change in his demeanor, confusion replacing the flirtatious expression she once had. "what?"

a sigh was all she heard before she watched him roll his eyes at her seemingly out of nowhere. he pulled his arm from her touch, a sudden annoyance, and maybe even disgust apparent on his sharp features. "i got a girl," he then replied bluntly, a brow raising as if to say 'so get to movin'

the scoff of disbelief that left came from the girl in front of him made matt roll his eyes again. "you have a girlfriend?" she questioned, as if there was absolutely no way that could possibly be true.

"she's not my girlfriend, but uh... y'know," he countered, a smooth shrug as a cocky smile creeped on his face at the thought of having you wrapped around his finger, "i got 'er."

"yeah right. and you suddenly remembered you had her after you seemed all interested before?" another scoff, further proving she didn't believe him, "some boyfriend you are."

"where'd you say y'heard about me again?" he then asked, face dropping to one of disinterest as he looked over her again, no longer so impressed by her looks.

"my friend?"

"yeah," he chuckled lowly, finding her persistence the slightest bit amusing, "some friend you are." with that, his eyes fell back to his phone, swiping out of the game on it as he now ignored the girl before him, standing there for a moment in shock.

sweetheart

today 6:47 PM : ' i won't be able to make it to the party tn, sorry :( '

today 11:23 PM : ' and why's that? '

today 11:24 PM : ' actually whatever. done with this shit anyways. wya so i can come see you? '

[ayukas]

18+ mdni

sub!jeno thoughts (.◜◡◝)

boyfriend!jeno who has always been rough with you during sex—tossing you around effortlessly, teasing you mercilessly until you were left shaking and dripping with his release.

but lately, you've started noticing subtle changes in how he acts—small, almost imperceptible things that make you wonder if this is truly how he prefers things to be.

he's been asking you to ride him more often, his voice unusually soft and pleading. "baby, d'you think you can be on top today? i just really need you—"

his usual deep, rough grunts have also shifted, slowly turning into prolonged, desperate whines that catch you completely off guard.

and it's not just during sex where jeno's changes stand out. even the smallest things seem to affect him, his reactions to your touch completely different from before.

a casual brush against his nipples has him shuddering, and one time, you even caught a soft, shaky whine before he quickly excused himself to the bathroom.

then there was the time where you playfully tugged on his hair after he forgot to take out the laundry, and the way his eyes rolled back, lips parting in a soft gasp, had you momentarily frozen in place.

eventually, you decide to bring it up. and the second you do, his eyes widen like he's been caught doing something forbidden, and the sight of him all flustered ignites something new in you.

"don't worry, puppy. let me take good care of you, hm?"

the moment those words leave your lips, he folds. practically dropping to his knees and trembling as he begs for your touch, his voice desperate as he pleads for you to suck him off or top him.

and how could you ever resist when he looks so cute and needy for you?

you urge him to get on the bed, and he scrambles to obey, hands fumbling as he pulls of his pants. he lays there, his boxers barely containing his hard cock, fingers gripping the sheets tightly as he gazes up at you with wide, pleading doe eyes.

you trail your hand over his bulge, earning a soft gasp from him, his eyes begin to water as he stammers, "please, please, please. need your mouth so bad—fuck baby please."

you smirk at his desperation, "since you're asking so nicely…"

slowly, you slip your hand into his boxers, teasing him with light strokes before lowering your mouth. your tongue barely grazes his cock before soft whines spill from his lips, his hips jerking up, trying to seek more friction. his whole body trembles with pleasure as he chants your name between breathless pleas.

but just when he's about to come, you pull back completely. his entire body tenses as he cries out in frustration, "fuck—why? i'm s-sorry fuck please let me come—i've been such a good boy."

god, the way his eyes light up at your next words has you rubbing your thighs together, heat pooling between them as you take in just how desperate jeno looks.

"what's the hurry, puppy? we've got all night."

[ssentimentals]

hi! pretty please can i ask for a hurt prompt (1) with dokyeom? 🥹🥹 idk if it's relevant but i'd like to see him being busy and stuff and starts to forget about his s/o (completely pretty irrelevant) but you could also do it on your own way, either way i'd be grateful! thank you so much <3

hi hi my pretty! thank you for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

hurt prompt: 'every time i see you, i feel more alone.'

in all honesty, you are surprised that this haven't happened earlier. your patience was wearing thin for almost two months and today it finally snapped. seokmin looks as angry as you do, maybe even angrier and isn't that funny? 'i am working,' he seethes, tone going high like never before. 'so sorry that i can't text you every single minute!'

you laugh hysterically, torn between wanting to run away and throw something at his face. 'have i said that i want that? no! i am saying that for the last two months you acted like i don't exist, seokmin! this is not okay!'

frustrated, your boyfriend runs his fingers through his hair, messing them up even more. 'i am trying hard for both of us,' he mutters, trembling with fury. 'i am trying for us and instead of being understanding you-'

'understanding?' you interrupt, shouting. 'have i not been understanding when you missed almost every single dinner? when you didn't show up at my events that were important for me? haven't i been supportive with sending you food, encouraging messages, fucking hell, seokkie, i-' you pause, breathing in. your voice trembles, when you spit out: 'every time i see you, i feel more alone. it's like you're not even here when you're with me. it's like- like i don't have a boyfriend, seokmin. and you promised to never make me feel alone.'

previous angry cloud above you two instantly dissapates at those words. seokmin blinks, face morphing from anger to pity and then self-loathing. he watches as you wrap your hands around yourself and his heart breaks; when he is here, how can you do this to yourself? jumping up from his place, he takes you into his arms with determination and gentleness, hugging you tight as you break down into heartbreaking sobs. 'i'm sorry,' he whispers, caressing your back. 'i didn't- i just didn't notice. it wasn't intentional, i promise. i just wanted to get more bonuses before christmas, wanted to spoil you this year and got so into the work that i forgot about anything else. i'm sorry baby, i'm so sorry.'

you forgive him, of course. your heart can't stay mad at seokmin for longer than five seconds; it seems like your heart can function normally when you and seokmin are alright. you hug him back, relishing the warmth and familiar scent, needing this all those two months. 'i just want you,' you mutter into his shoulder. 'i don't care for bonuses.'

'oh, love,' seokmin kisses top of your head, sighing. he feels so foolish now and his mind can't comprehend how did he manage to be so blind. 'you've already got me.'

'you owe me two months of being clingy,' you say, trying to lighten the mood. 'and affectionate. and i want a lot of chocolate.'

seokmin chuckles, thanking god that he sent you his way. 'sure, baby. anything you want. anything.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[vhswolf]

McLaren Christmas Dinner | Landoscar x Reader

Warnings: none I think, just a jealous Oscar wanting to go home

It's time for the big McLaren dinner party, the dinner I thought I wasn't going to participate in. I've been dating Lando and Oscar for a couple of months now, it was something that was difficult to know if it was going to be a great idea or an awful one, none of us had done this before, dating one person is hard to imagine two and imagine one of them being your teammate. Even everything being a recipe for disaster, we made it work. But the idea of going to a full on McLaren celebration was off my mind until Lando said we need to have a meeting (a stupid way we had to say that we needed to talk).

"I'm the bringer... bringer? I bring an idea for you two."

"We're listening." I said, cuddling up on Oscar's arm as Lando stood in front of us with a big smile on his face.

"Since we can bring a plus one to the McLaren dinner, what about we bring our girl?" Lando said like it was an obvious idea.

"I agree." Oscar said.

"Agree? Boys, are you guys thinking? That's a bad idea." I said sitting up.

"Why?"

"Because people will want to know who I'm, and you're going to say what? Our girlfriend? I don't think PR would approve of me being girlfriend of one of you."

"We can say you're our mutual friend." Osc said.

"Handsy like the two of you are? I don't see this working."

"You're overthinking it, babe." Lando sat by my side. "First of all, we can keep our hands to ourselves if needed and nobody will be there to out us, because if they do, they lose their job."

"And, they wouldn't believe we got luck enough to date you." Osc said, and Lan nodded.

"Yes, Osc is right and to be honest they think Osc is too boring to even try anything like this."

"I'm listening, Lando."

"I'm not saying it, McLaren people are, and come on, you look like a church boy, Oscar." Oscar rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Whatever, they won't figure anything, love, we promise you."

"This is risky as fuck."

"We just want to show up our girl a little bit, can you please go?"

"I'll go, but if anything happens, you both are the ones going to the PR meetings, not me."

"Deal." They both said together.

I got a gala worth dress, it was one of the Clio Peppiatt ones, and I asked for them to personalize it with a little McLaren logo in papaya, it was so beautiful, popping out in the middle of the whole black and silver dress. Both of my boys in black suits, Oscar with a traditional tie in dark dark midnight blue, and Lan with a black bow tie, both looking like a Disney prince. The two drivers were stopping at every step talking to everyone, I was a bit behind, not wanting to be seen by anyone, but it didn't work for long.

"This is (Y/n)." I heard my name as I was looking around, completely lost in my own thoughts. I looked at them and saw Zak Brown looking at me, so I smiled.

"Hi."

"Hello, nice to meet you." He looked at both boys and back at me. "So, you're friends with my drivers? How come I never saw you?"

"I was never invited to the paddock." I joked and Lando looked at me shocked.

"What? That's not fair!"

"Not a lie, though."

"You two need to learn how to treat a pretty girl, that's why you guys don't have a girlfriend." He shook his head and I chuckled. "You will be very welcome anytime."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, and you two, invite the girl, c'mon."

"We will." Oscar said, looking at me, then Zak walked away. "We never invited you?" Oscar asked and I laughed.

"Sorry, what I was supposed to say? That I didn't want to go?"

"Now you're going, I don't care what you say." Oscar said in a low voice before walking away.

"Uhh, Osc is mad, you're fucked." Lando whispered in my ear.

"Osc!" I called, walking a bit faster to get to him. "Don't be mad."

"I'm not." He is.

"I'm sorry, baby." I whispered in his ear and he looked at me, but didn't say anything. He walked to the bar and Lando put his hand on my shoulder.

"Didn't work, did it?"

"Nope, can you talk to him?"

"I can try, but I won't be getting punished because of you." He said walking to where Oscar was.

"Hello." I hear a voice behind me, when I turned I saw Pato O'ward with a big smile on his face. "I'm Patricio O'ward, but you can call me Pato, nice to meet you."

"Hi, I'm (Y/n), nice to meet you too, Pato." I smiled.

"I never saw you around, I'm wrong?"

"You're not, I'm Lando and Oscar's friend." He nodded.

"I love your dress, you look good in McLaren." He joked.

"Thank you, maybe I'll use more McLaren." He nodded.

"You should." His flirty aura is bigger than Lando's and I thought this was impossible. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Do you..." Before he finished his question, I felt a hand on my waist, and then another one.

"Hey, Pato!" Lando said smiling. "Everything OK?" Pato nodded.

"Yes, I was just saying her dress is gorgeous."

"I agree." Oscar said, squeezing my waist even more.

"That was all, see you guys around." Pato said and walked away.

"Pato, really?" Oscar said through clenched teeth.

"I was just being nice." I turned to look at them and get away from the touches on my waist. Both men had a drink in their hand, Lando was more in a happy mood than Oscar.

"He wanted to fuck you, you don't need to be nice in this case."

"Osc, it is not like I was going to give him my number or anything."

"Is kinda funny, Osc, did you see his face?" Osc bit the inside of his cheek, trying to suppress his smile.

"That was nice, but still, no more talking with that womanizer."

"You say it like your boyfriend isn't a womanizer too."

"Former womanizer! Now I'm a family man." Lando said, crossing his arms. Oscar chuckled and shook his head.

"I can't be mad at you for long, can I?" He ran his fingers through my hair and sighed. "I love you."

"Love you too, baby."

"Too much for pretending to be besties?" Lando said looking at the scene. Oscar rolled his eyes and pulled away.

"I want to go home."

"After dinner." Lando said, hugging Oscar shoulders. Osc nodded, and we started to walk off, but not before listening to a person behind us commenting.

"Does Oscar know Lando wants to fuck his girlfriend?" We looked at each other and laughed.

[woozinhos]

congrats on your new milestone! i’ve noticed you haven't written for jihoon yet! can i request prompt 15 with woozi soft love making no pressure<33

stop thank you oh my god my first jihoon request I’ve been waiting for this one ahhh I really hope you enjoy <3

Jihoon gently laid you down on the bed, his eyes filled with adoration as he looked down at you.

"You're perfect for me in every way," he whispered, his fingers tracing the curves of your body with a gentle touch.

He leaned down to capture your lips in a tender kiss, his mouth moving against yours with a slow, unhurried pace.

Jihoon took his time exploring your body, his lips and hands worshipping every inch of your skin as he left a trail of soft kisses and gentle touches in his wake. Jihoon moved down your body, his lips and tongue leaving a path of pleasure in their wake. He paid special attention to the sensitive spots he knew drove you wild, his touch gentle but skilled as he brought you to the brink of ecstasy.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "I can't believe I get to have you all to myself."

Jihoon paused for a moment, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and affection.

"I'm sorry I've been away at the studio so much lately," he said softly, his voice filled with remorse. "I know I haven't been giving you the attention you deserve."

Jihoon looked up at you with a determined expression, his eyes burning with desire.

"I want to make it up to you," he said, his voice low and intense. "I want to show you just how much I love and appreciate you."

You spoke, your voice soft and needy.

"Please," you whispered, arching your back as you sought more of his touch. "I need you, Jihoon. I need you to make me feel loved."

Jihoon's eyes darkened with need as he heard your words.

"I need to make love to you," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "I need to feel you, to be inside you, to show you just how much I adore you."

Jihoon positioned himself between your legs, his hands gripping your hips as he looked down at you with a mixture of love and hunger.

"You're so perfect," he whispered, his eyes roaming over your body hungrily. "I can't wait to be inside you, to feel you wrapped around me."

Jihoon slowly pushed himself inside you, his eyes locked on yours as he watched your face for any signs of discomfort.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he bottomed out. "You're taking me so well, baby."

As Jihoon began to move inside you, he reached out and intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hands tightly as he rocked his hips against yours. He held your gaze, his eyes filled with a mix of love and passion as he made love to you slowly and gently. Jihoon's pace was steady and deliberate, his movements deep and powerful as he filled you completely with each thrust.

He brought your intertwined hands up above your head, pinning them down as he continued to make love to you, his body pressed flush against yours. Jihoon's lips found their way to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites along your sensitive skin. He whispered sweet nothings in your ear, his breath hot and ragged as he neared his own climax.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice low and possessive. "All mine, and no one else's."

He quickened his pace slightly, his hips snapping against yours with a bit more force as he chased his release. Jihoon slowed down, realizing that he had gotten caught up in his own pleasure. He looked down at you with a tender expression, his eyes softening as he saw the look of pleasure on your face.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his movements becoming more gentle again. "I just got carried away. I want to make sure you feel good too."

Jihoon adjusted his angle slightly, searching for that spot inside you that would drive you wild. When he found it, he began to hit it with each slow, deliberate thrust, watching your face carefully for any signs of pleasure.

"Is that good, baby?" he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own orgasm.

"Yes," you gasped, arching your back and clenching around him. "Oh god, yes. Right there, Jihoon. Don't stop."

Jihoon groaned at your response, his eyes rolling back in his head at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. He increased the pace of his thrusts, hitting that spot inside you with every stroke as he chased both of your releases.

"I love you," he panted, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. "I love you so much."

Your body began to tense, your breath coming in short gasps as you neared your peak. Jihoon could feel it too, the way your walls were fluttering around him, signaling your impending orgasm.

"Come for me, baby," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "I want to feel you come around me."

Jihoon's words sent you over the edge, and you came with a cry of his name, your body shaking with pleasure. He continued to thrust into you, riding out your orgasm and chasing his own release.

With a few more powerful thrusts, he buried himself deep inside you and came with a guttural moan, spilling himself inside you as he reached his peak. Jihoon collapsed on top of you, his body spent and sated. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as he caught his breath.

"God, I love you," he murmured, his lips brushing against your sweaty forehead. "You're incredible."

[man-i-love-fanfiction]

To Share the Space with Simple Living Things - Hozier x Fem!Florist!Reader

Chapter Three: Chrysanthemums - Joy

Summary: You and Andrew meet outside of your workplace for the first time for a completely platonic coffee on him.

Word count: 2385

Author's note: i am so sorry that this took so long 😭 last week of school combined with finals combined with life i guess hindered me from writing. but i'm back on track!!! hopefully you all enjoy and if i don't update again soon happy holidays <3

tag list: @celery-grace @gayandfairycore @deathmybride @harry-bowie-mercury @hodgepodge-musings @blue-eyed-bug @secretttytttttttttt @dinner-n-dxatribes @padfootblackswh0r3 (if you want to be added just let me know!)

fic below the cut <3

This is not a date.

That was your affirmation all of Friday morning, repeating it to yourself.

You muttered it under your breath as you fixed your hair. It was mumbled as you laid out your outfit, specifically chosen to be fashionable but casual: your favorite sweater and a nice pair of jeans. You whispered it before spraying your perfume, a scent you had to dig through your closet for five minutes to find. Ironically, the scent was nothing close to floral. You said it to each of your houseplants as you watered them. They remained unconvinced.

Slipped on your shoes. Locked up your flat. Walked down the stairs. You repeated your mantra every time, because maybe if you said it enough times, it would become true.

By the time you made it to your car, you had said it so many times it felt like breathing. Your hands gripped the wheel. You locked eyes with your reflection in the rearview mirror and whispered your phrase of the morning one more time for good luck.

This. Is. Not. A. Date.

Stepping down on the gas pedal, you began to drive.

On the drive there, you prepared yourself for all possible scenarios. This kind of thinking came naturally — it always did, especially in situations like these. You ran through what your reaction would be if he showed up, what it would be if he didn't. What you would do if he had an insanely complex coffee order, or if he ordered a drink with six shots of espresso. What if he tried to order for you, or if he made some backhanded comment about another woman at the cafe? You doubted he would do any of these things, but you believed it's better to be safe than sorry. This thinking only paused when you parked in front the coffee shop and caught a glimpse of Andrew waiting inside. All of your previous repetition and fretting had made you ten minutes late, a fact you weren't fond of and hoped Andrew wouldn't chastise you for.

The moment you stepped into the coffee shop, all of your previous affirmations were thrown out the window. It wasn't a date. But after seeing Andrew you wished that it was.

It wasn't any particular factor. It wasn't the black denim jacket he was wearing, or the way he'd tied half his hair up, leaving the other half down. It wasn't even the smile on his face, reserved like he wasn't sure how to react properly when he saw you. It was a combination of everything; his presence alone was enough to make you flustered. So flustered that you were very close to forgetting to say anything when you walked up to him. Thankfully, at the last moment, you actually spoke.

“Hey! Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long,” you greeted him with a small smile.

“Oh, no. I just got here, too. You're alright.”

You walked inside together, and you looked around at your new surroundings. It was a small business, quaint and cozy, with framed photos of artworks by local artists; it was exactly what you would imagine a coffee shop that Andrew picked to be.

Because all of your overthinking (or what you preferred to call planning) on the way there, you ordered your coffee with ease. Andrew recited his order, a black americano, a surprise to you. You watched as he paid and gave his name for the order, the barista already recognizing him. He turned his head towards you and offered an explanation:“I’m a regular. I always come here whenever I need a pick-me-up.”

“I’ll have to come here more often, then,” you replied.

You found a small table in the corner and sat down to claim it for the both of you while Andrew stood by the counter, waiting for your coffee. What a gentleman.

You had yet to notice any flaws in him, only making your self-imposed rule of this not being romantic harder to follow. There had to be something about him that was off. There was no way he was so caring and endearing and funny all at the same time; he had to have an imperfection eventually. You didn't find it in the few minutes you watched him stand around, occasionally fiddling with his hands or putting them in his pockets. Your efforts grew even more futile as he walked over with the coffees in hand, setting them down on the table.

He shedded his jacket and carefully placed it on the back of the chair before sitting down in the chair opposite you. This simple action caused the fact that you barely knew Andrew to pop up in your head. Despite how connected to him you felt already, you had only met him twice before. On both occasions he wore long sleeves, so seeing him without a jacket for the first time gave you a much appreciated surprise.

His right arm had an entire sleeve of tattoos.

He had turned his arm into a mural for myths and legends. A portrait of a falling Icarus, wings disintegrating beneath a red sun. A tortured Atlas carrying the weight of the world on his back. Dante and Virgil arm in arm wandering through a circle of hell. Writing in script filled the empty space, seemingly verses from poems. It was all centered around two words placed across his bicep: Noli Timere. You’d be lying if you said it didn't make you even more attracted to him than you already were.

You could've spent hours just looking, analyzing every line of ink. It felt as though you did, though it's much more likely it was only for a few seconds. You were brought back to Earth by the sound of his voice.

“It's rude to stare, y’know?”

There was no real annoyance in his voice, but it caused you to attention like you had been caught. An explanation mumbled its way out of your mouth.

“I’m so sorry, I just- I like your arm. Tattoos. Your arm tattoos. They're…”

Beautiful? Enticing? Very attractive?

“…cool.”

You took a sip of your coffee, finding it the perfect time to cover up your embarrassment, as well as the flushed face that came along with it. Luckily, Andrew didn't notice (or if he did, he didn't mind) and continued the conversation, accepting your compliment with a crooked smile.

“Thanks. I try to put a lot of thought into them, give them some meaning, so they're all based on these stories that are important to me.”

“Makes sense. I’d hate to get a tattoo just to regret it a few years later. Even worse, a few months later.”

“Too many of my clients have had that exact issue. Come in a year after and ask for a coverup. Makes me question my work sometimes.”

“Clients?” You asked with a tilt of your head.

“Oh, right. I never mentioned it.” He paused to take a drink from his cup before continuing. “I’m a tattoo artist. The parlor I work at’s only a few blocks away from your shop, believe it or not.”

“Wow. Small world, I suppose. Maybe I could stop by someday and say hi.”

The boldness of your statement didn't fully process in your brain, and you quickly backtracked.

“If you’d be okay with that, of course.”

“Yes. Absolutely. You can come by whenever I don't have a client.”

“Call me over if anyone gets a tattoo of a flower and I’ll be there to explain everything it means. There is always the very dangerous possibility of someone getting a flower that means jealousy or a rejection.”

He didn’t reply, just flashed a smile, and the silence between you seemed… awkward. Combined with the way he was fidgeting with his hands, it almost made you think he was nervous.

“I’m actually thinking about buying a bouquet to put on the front desk,” he admitted.

“Really?”

“Yeah. A lot of people, they get nervous before their appointment, whether it's their first tattoo or their tenth. Having flowers right when you walk in might ease some of the tension.”

“That's a great idea. I know I’m biased, but flowers do tend to brighten my day."

“Do you have any ideas?”

You bit at your bottom lip as you thought, finally speaking again once you racked your brain for what could work.

“Chrysanthemums are a favorite with customers. Those mean joy and optimism. I could start with those and build from there.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“That's all I’ve got right now, but I’ll see what else I can come up with later. After coffee, I’m much more… insightful.”

As if to prove your point, you took another sip of your coffee, a longer one that left only a quarter of the cup left.

“So… this is official? You're placing an order?”

He nodded.

“If that's how this works, then yes. I’d like to place an order of one chrysanthemum bouquet for the purpose of making my customers happy. Please,” he replied genuinely.

“Your order will be marked down as soon as I get to the shop.”

“Feel free to take your time, by the way. I don't mean to pressure you. It's not like I have a deadline, and I know you probably have a million other things you have to do.”

You considered reaching for him, your fingertips flexing in his direction, but you restrained yourself, choosing words instead.

“You're not pressuring me at all. You made your order. Now you're asking me to do my job. My job that I love, by the way. If anything, I’m thrilled that you're so interested.”

The real question is whether you're more interested in my job or me.

You weren't bold enough to say what you were thinking, but you never had been. You had gotten so used to biting your tongue it was a miracle it was still in your mouth. You spoke again, but selected a much safer option of what to say.

“It's gonna take a few days since there's some orders before yours, but I have your number on file so I’ll call you when I finish it up.”

“I’ll be there. With my wallet, this time around.”

You thought about your proposition before realizing there would be a much more effective, though maybe you just wanted to visit Andrew’s job for a change.

“I mean, you said your place is only a few minutes away, right? I could always deliver it. Gives me an opportunity to get some fresh air during my day. Besides, you're probably much busier than I am, so it might be harder to find the time. Meanwhile, I can deliver it as soon as it's done, and everything works out.”

“You don't have to do that.”

“I know. I want to, though.”

He sighed and shook his head, a reaction you originally feared was out of annoyance, but you felt a small amount of relief when you noticed the smile that accompanied it.

“You need to stop doing nice things for me. Otherwise I’ll go bankrupt from buying you so much coffee to compensate.”

“I also accept gratitude payment in compliments, thank-you-cards, and checks.”

“What about credit cards?”

“Ooo, sorry. Compliments, thank-you-cards, and checks are your options.”

He chuckled, a deeper and richer laugh than before.

“Fine. You want a compliment? You're incredibly kind for doing all of this for me, and I sincerely appreciate it. Thank you.”

Another sip from your cup to hide the flush of your cheeks, though no amount of caffeine could calm the butterflies in your stomach.

“That covers your gratitude payment for now. I still need real money, of course,” you muttered. “And you're not getting your way out of it this time.”

“I would never. You can't pull the same con on the same person twice.”

“Oh, so it was a con? Did those flowers even go to your mother?”

“Nope. Underground flower smuggling ring.”

“Ah, I should've guessed. Tell your flower-loving crime boss that I’m thankful for all that you've done for me, but I unfortunately need to get going, because it's 9:30 and the shop opens at 10.”

Andrew complied. You two wrapped it up, and he put his jacket back on, covering up his tattoos much to your dismay. Your coffee cup, now empty, was discarded by the door.

“Thank you so much. For the coffee, for the company. Everything. Especially for the coffee, though, considering you barely even drank yours,” you commented, pointing at the half-full cup still in his hand.

“You’re welcome. And trust me, I was going to drink it, but I found myself much more engrossed in the conversation.”

Andrew grabbed the door and held it open for you, and you walked past him and thanked him. Both of you stood on the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop, unsure of how (or if you even wanted) to say goodbye.

“This is where we must part ways,” he said with a sigh.

“You say that like we're never going to see each other again.”

“A lot can happen in a few days, Y/N. You have no idea what the universe has up her sleeve.”

“Do you have some kind of knowledge about an apocalypse that I don't? Because when it comes to that kind of stuff, sharing is caring.”

“Just… prepping for the future, I suppose. If there is no apocalypse, I’ll see you when my bouquet’s finished.”

“I’ll see you then. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

You walked to your car, only a few footsteps away, the smile slowly fading from your face as he walked in the opposite direction. You sneaked a glance over your shoulder at him before opening the car door.

Sitting down in the driver's seat, you took a deep breath to bring yourself back to reality. Your mantra had been proven right: that was not a date. It just felt like one. A very successful one at that. He was a gentleman, listened to what you had to say, gave you a compliment, and you even set up an incentive to meet again. This not-a-date went better than most of your actual dates, and it was with a guy who, to your knowledge, had no romantic interest in you.

You were totally and utterly screwed.

[the-offside-rule]

Lance Stroll (Aston Martin) - Happy Hanukkah

Day 24 of Christmas

Prompt: The Differences in Christmas

25 Days Of Christmas

Y/n was filled with excitement as she stepped off the plane, a flurry of anticipation swirling around her. Christmas was just around the corner, and she was invited to spend the holidays with her boyfriend, Lance, at his family home. As she arrived, she took in the lavish surroundings, the elegant decorations, and the warm, inviting atmosphere that enveloped her. As she settled in, she stumbled into the living room, looking confused at how bare it looked and wondering why there was no tree.

"Lance?" She called out, looking around. Lance peeped in. "Where’s your Christmas tree?" Lance chuckled softly, a hint of surprise flickering in his eyes. "Y/n, I’m Jewish, remember?" He replied gently, his smile reassuring. "We don’t have a Christmas tree." Her face flushed in realization. "Oh! Right! I completely forgot." She admitted, laughing at her own oversight. "So what do you do instead?"

Lance was more than happy to explain. "Well, we celebrate Hanukkah instead." He said simply. "It’s a festival of lights. We light the menorah, play dreidel, and eat traditional foods. It’s a little different from Christmas, but it’s just as special in its own way." Y/n listened intently, fascinated by the rich traditions he described. "What kind of foods?" She asked, her curiosity piqued. "Latkes, which are potato pancakes, and sufganiyot, which are jelly-filled donuts." He explained, his eyes lighting up at the mention of the treats. "We’ll make some together!" The thought of spending time with Lance in the kitchen made her heart flutter. "I can’t wait to try them!" She said enthusiastically.

The next morning, Y/n and Lance were in the kitchen, the warm scent of donuts lingering in the air. "I just need to grab something from upstairs." She said, wiping her hands on a towel. As she made her way through the expansive house, she stumbled upon a door that was slightly ajar. Curiosity getting the better of her, she peeked inside. It was Lawrence’s office, filled with books and family photos. One picture caught her eye: a younger Lance beaming as he helped his father prepare food for the final day of Hanukkah.

"Oh! I’m so sorry!" Y/n exclaimed, stepping back. "I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just exploring and got lost." Lawrence looked up, a friendly smile on his face. "No problem at all, Y/n. You can join me if you'd like." He invited, motioning for her to sit down. "I was just reminiscing about those days. Lance loved helping out in the kitchen." Y/n felt at ease as she sat down, her initial embarrassment fading away. "He told me you celebrate Hanukkah. I’d love to hear more about it, I just don't wanna annoy him with all the questions I'm asking about it."

Lawrence was more than willing to share. He talked about the significance of the menorah, the stories behind each night of Hanukkah, and how the family would gather to celebrate together. The conversation flowed easily, and Y/n felt grateful for the insight.

Just then, Lance walked by, overhearing snippets of their conversation. He paused, feeling a swell of pride as he watched his dad share their family traditions with her. “Dad, what are you telling her?” He called out, playfully suspicious. "Just some stories about your childhood." Lawrence replied with a grin. "Did know your girlfriend is curious about our traditions?" Lance smiled, his heart swelling. "I’ll take her to the airport to pick up Chloe and Scotty. She can learn more about Hanukkah from them!"

On the car ride to the airport, Y/n leaned back in her seat, looking out the window as the scenery rushed by. Lance glanced over at her, a content smile on his face. "Are you finding everything okay?" He asked, genuine concern lacing his voice. "Oh, I’m loving it!" She exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. "Your dad told me so much about Hanukkah. It’s all so interesting!" Lance’s heart skipped a beat. He thought to himself, I’ve definitely found the one. They arrived at the airport and helped bring the bags back to the car. Y/n chatted animatedly with Chloe and Scotty as they walked ahead, while Lance lagged behind, soaking in the happiness of the moment.

As they loaded the car, Chloe turned to Lance with a knowing smile. "This is the happiest I’ve seen you in a while." She remarked. "It’s because I’ve realized I’ve found the one." Lance replied, a serious note in his voice. Chloe rolled her eyes playfully. "You’ve said that about the last two girlfriends, and we all know how that ended."

"Yeah, but this time it’s different, and I know I've said thay before too, but I mean it this tims." He insisted, his gaze locked on Y/n, who was laughing with Scotty.

Once they were back in the car, they turned on the radio, and Christmas songs filled the air. Y/n joined in, singing off-key but with pure joy, and Lance couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Chloe watched them, feeling a warmth in her heart, like when she and Scotty started dating and still to this day felt. She finally understood what Lance had been saying; he had found someone special.

*please lmk if there are any mistakes! This is just the understanding I have from my Jewish friend about Hanukkah*

[gigglemugger]

The Naked and the Blind (or The Ballad of Meg Halsey) | Chapter 7.

Fandom: Re-Animator (Movies - Combs), Herbert West - Reanimator - H.P. Lovecraft.

Pairing: Herbert West/Meg Halsey

Rating: Explicit, or at the very least Mature.

Archive Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence.

Chapters: 1. | 2. | 3. | 4. | 5. | 6. | 7. | 8. | 9. | 10. | 11.

Synopsis:

"Meg Halsey had a problem. In fact, she had several problems, the first of which, she acknowledges while looking at her semi empty living room, is that she can't afford to live alone anymore. The second one is that she doesn't wanna go back to her daddy's house again. This would be an inconceivable notion to her thirteen year old self, even her sixteen year old self, but at twenty five, she'd really choose living under the bridge first. Ok. Maybe not that." Meg Halsey is perfect: Beautiful, accomplished, a bright future doctor. She escaped her hometown and moved to New York, where she likely would have stayed forever. After her mother dies, though, she is forced to move back to Arkham and face everything she wanted to leave behind. --- A.K.A I made a tumblr post about how Crampton/Combs are romantically involved in all of their collabs, got replies and decided to write down a suggestion of "what if Meg was the protagonist, not Dan?" Also I did the cop-out summary thing and pasted the first paragraph of the fic. It's highway robbery. Criminal (I'm sorry).

Word Count: Multi Chapter, so far 22,356.

AO3 Tags: I uhhh......... I have no idea what I made it started with one tumblr post then one reply and here we are, I included other works by Lovecraft here and rounded Arkham up and then ran, Character Study, In a way, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Dan Cain, he doesn't exist, Danbert shippers cry I get it, Canon-Typical Violence, Animal Death, Eventual Romance, Slow Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, this fic is an affront to god just like herbert's reagent, Not Beta Read.

Language: English.

CW: Meg went through some trauma. Dead parents, dead cat. She also helps kill her dad later on, considering, so. It's a heavy fic, but if you liked the movie you'll be fine.

Chapter Summary: Things get much worse. In the aftermath, Meg watches Ghostbusters with Ace. Yes, that's right. Ghostbusters.

AO3 link.

(Happy holidays!)

Chapter notes:

Continuation of what I said before. This is also where the explicit rating comes in, in the sexual sense. Weeee! Also, if I got the chronological order of Ghostbusters scenes wrong, I'm sorry. I only watched once.

7. Cause there's nothing else to do...

Silence, in Meg's head. Complete void. Her very core shook, her hands, legs, everything with it. The crunching sound of her dad's bones, the man walking over him with force beyond what would be possible—those came in slowly.

West was mangled, but breathing.

She herself was breathing. Was she?

The room started up again around her almost too fast when her dad started crying out. The subject mimicked the sound, putting his hands over his ears…

And Meg could do nothing but stare.

The subject—the reanimated subject that both she and West had been responsible for—started hitting her father's head against the cold floor.

She watched.

Herbert made a noise behind her. Why couldn't she move?

This is a dream… A weird, horrible dream. When I wake up, I won't even remember.

“Stop!” Herbert yelled, a mimic of his early cry. He sprinted towards the subject, taking his arms, but was unable to move him

The dean cried.

This is what shock feels like from the inside.

The beige telephone, the breeze.

You've felt this before.

After the phone call you couldn't move.

You needed to go back home.

It was exam week. You stayed.

She died.

“Meg!” Herbert yelled. She looked down at him. “Snap out of it!”

A move, a twitch of the leg and she was on again. She threw herself at it—fruitless, as the corpse flung both of them away with ease.

The dean cried. Meg looked at him from a distance, being raised, hit against the wall.

He wouldn't be strong enough to fight. The subject bit his fingers off.

Meg heard the saw buzzing before she saw it. West perforated the center of the body, coming through bloody and victorious.

She watched as he laid him on the floor gently, before sprinting towards her father.

He shook him, he checked his pulse. Meg laid down, looking at the bright fluorescents. They pierced her eyes, which she welcomed, considering the alternative was replaying her father's fingers being bitten off one by one.

The room was silent, as silent as her brain had been, but not still.

She was cold.

“He's dead.”

“I know.”

Meg raised her body and threw up. She saw the vomit and only then computed what was happening. When she turned back to West, he was dragging her father's body.

The floor is cold… The floor is cold.

“What are you doing?” Her voice came out labored. Her throat was sore. When she screamed she couldn't feel it, but now it was burning. Old Miskatonic had nothing on it.

“I'm getting results,” he answered as if it was obvious. His reagent was removed from his pocket, a new syringe was employed—and her hand was on West's thigh in a second. He looked down at her with wide eyes.

“Don't.” She sounded confident and determined. She felt like she had fallen from a building, broken through the floor and kept going for several floors. He kneeled to talk to her, eyes wide in desperation, begging to be let through into her brain.

“The subject listened to us, made a conscious move…” She grabbed his shirt on the shoulder, bunching it up. The blood and sweat were cold against her skin. They were close together, noses almost touching.

“Herbert, you will not turn my dad into that.”

He paused.

“You're right,” he nodded, agreeing. “Maybe the subject just wasn't fresh enough, but I can bring him back…” She waved her head and he looked at her.

“Don't.” West's face contorted into a mask of annoyance and impatience. Meg's didn't move.

“This is the freshest subject we'll get save for killing one ourselves…!” She laughed, more of a shriek really, making him pause mid sentence. Her body convulsed forward, the smell of vomit, blood and chemicals making her stomach churn again. (She continued laughing for ten seconds. He counted).

“Sure!” Meg said, finally. “I'll kill someone. We'll get someone straight from the main floor. I don't care.” She held him even tighter, knowing it was bound to hurt. “Don't. Touch. My dad—he's not a subject.”

“If you could have done this for your mother, would you?” He asked. She remembered the conversation she had with her father mere hours ago.

“How did you…”

There is nothing one can do against death.

“Yes…” Meg admitted, softly. She let her forehead touch his shoulder, feeling empty. His tie was crooked. She fixed it before moving away to lay on the floor, limp.

“I will bring him back,” Herbert assured. Without further argument, he picked the flask back up, not bothering with recorders, the freshness of the subject taking priority.

Meg didn't do much, just laid there, waiting.

“I’ll show you…” Herbert murmured. The fluorescent lights didn’t bother her anymore. “I’ll show all of you...”

A beat, two beats. Meg was shaking, but didn’t feel it—she knew it from seeing it.

When her dad started moaning to indicate he was alive, West spoke again.

“Dr. Halsey, you once did me a favor by letting me into your medical school. Welcome back to life.”

Meg was sitting at a hospital bed. That was the first real recollection she had of that day, or at least of after she successfully reanimated her first corpse. Her father was dead.

Twice, Herbert's voice said in her head. He failed…

They failed.

“Meg?” She lifted her head. It was Harrod. “Here, it's for your throat.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking the plastic cup, but holding it limp over her knees. “Did she pick up?”

“Yeah, she's coming to get you.”

“Thank you.”

“Take those,” was all she said in return before leaving.

The official story was that Dean Halsey ‘went crazy’ after finding out that Meg and West were indeed together—behind his back. He flipped out, attacked both her and West, before being mercifully stopped, leaving behind two victims in a complete state of shock. He was in a padded room, taken away in a straitjacket. Meg was sitting, free, in a hospital room. Her pills were limp in her hand.

Her parents were dead, her cat was dead… All she had in the world was her roommate, who was coming to pick her up.

And West…

She shook her head, like an etch-a-sketch. At least the hospital was calmer. Meg wondered if she could ever step foot there again without having a mental collapse.

She finally dawned the pills.

When Ace arrived, she hugged her.

“So your dad flipped out?” She nodded. Ace smiled, sympathetic. “Don’t worry, I get it.”

They stood huddled together against the cold. It was getting firmer, the weather, which meant it was only going to get chiller.

“Where's West?” Ace asked. Meg sniffled.

“No idea.” It was true. After being cleared out, he looked at Meg briefly and disappeared—probably knowing that once she recovered complete control over her body, at least psychologically, she was gonna rip his head off.

It’s not only his fault, but you know that don't you?

“I know we haven't known each other for too long, but you could have told me you two were like that. I wasn't gonna say anything.” Meg smiled.

“I know. I'm sorry.”

“It’s ok, I have my private life too… Still, next time I’ll cover for you.” She hummed in response. “Is your dad going to be okay?” Instead of answering, Meg started crying.

Home was inviting, warm. Felix the cat greeted her, a souvenir from better times.

“I'll make you some tea.”

“Thank you,” Meg said. Ace arranged for Ed to bring her car back home. Nothing to throw on the bowl. Her face was swollen, puffy. She had an extreme headache and when she finally found the couch, she knew she wasn’t getting up.

“Ow…” Meg said. Her body ached—she could remember being thrown all over the place. The pills weren’t enough to make it all go away. No amount of ibuprofen could, probably.

I held onto West’s shoulder. There was a rotten smell. I gave up, we were getting ready to leave…

“Here,” Ace said, putting the mug in front of Meg. She stared at it. Yesterday it had been coffee… “Have you slept?”

Oh yeah… Right…

“No,” Meg admitted, taking the mug. Earl Gray, the only type of tea she had around, the only one she drank. “I should, shouldn’t I?”

Ace sat down, criss crossed her legs and looked at Meg with her big brown eyes.

They were shiny, like West’s.

“I think the right thing for me to say would be yes: Yes, you should go to bed, yes you should try to forget this for a second—but you won’t. So, instead, I’ll ask you: What do you need?”

Meg cried into her mug. The ride home wasn’t enough? But Ace looked like she expected that.

“I have Sixteen Candles on VHS. Do you wanna watch that, to take the edge off a little bit?”

“Is that the one with that red haired girl?” Meg asked, using both her hands to dry her tears. She could barely lift her arms.

“Molly Ringwald, yes. She’s sixteen and her parents forgot her birthday, real tragedy.”

“Why do you have that on VHS?” Ace shrugged.

“I have Christine too, if you wanna watch a killer car. I also have The NeverEnding Story and Ghostbusters…”

“How many VHS tapes do you have?” Meg managed to ask. Her throat was sore and her tears were still flowing—she wasn’t hiccuping or convulsing, but she was steady.

Perfect little cry for the perfect little girl.

“A couple. They’re expensive, but I buy the ones I like, or stuff I saw on TV and wanna see again.”

“Sixteen… Candles…” Oh, here we go. The hiccups. Not so perfect after all.

Well, at least you are human, unlike that… Her brain conjured up the image of the subject hitting the door. Next came the feeling of West holding her back, his arms around her as she cried out, his breathing on her neck, his voice close to her ear…

“Yeah,” Ace said, unphased. “It’s light, but it’s romance…” Meg waved her head.

“Let’s watch Ghostbusters. I didn’t catch that one in theaters…”

And you go to the theaters since…?

Not since 1979, at least.

“Ok, it’s good. Doubt it will make you laugh, but it’ll try. You should really finish your tea. I’ll make popcorn, do you think you can eat that?”

Meg wasn’t sure.

“I’ll try.”

Ghostbusters was fun. It didn’t distract her—her thoughts were with her dad, in a padded cell somewhere, in the dark—but as far as comedies went... Ace did a lot of the talking about how it was much more accurate when it came to real life ghosts and supernatural phenomena than she expected when she took Ed to see it with her.

“Since when have you two been together?” Meg asked. Rick Moranis was running through New York. She was trying to eat some more butter popcorn—it was soggy and it stained her fingers, making them slimy. She appreciated any other sensorial sensation other than pain, though. At least the tears were gone. Small talk would surely fill the crater forming slowly in the decaying tissue of her heart.

Dramatic much?

Shut up.

“We met during a club meeting, at Miskatonic. People who believe in the paranormal, all that,” Ace said without looking at anything other than the screen. “He was interested in my history with the practice, I was interested in why someone who looked like him was interested.”

“Why do you say that?” Meg asked. Ace smiled.

“Eddie looks like a rich boy and is a rich boy. I wasn’t poor growing up, my family does pay for my education, but Eddie is old money. It made more sense when he told me he was sick a lot as a child and read copious amounts of… Anything, really, to pass the time. His family is also weird, not like mine, but…”

“How weird is your family?”

There was silence. New York boomed through the speakers. Meg looked at the screen and fought her feelings.

She desperately wished she hadn't left, that she hadn't come back for her mother's funeral, to take care of her dad, to meet Herbert West…

“I’ll tell you if you tell me the truth about you and West.” Meg looked at her, glad to ignore the television. Ace continued. “I know you and him weren’t together. Sure, it made sense, but other things didn’t click. Your dad suddenly losing it, really losing it makes no sense. I mean, I thought it did, but then I thought about it again, and…”

“Ok,” Meg said, stopping her. She put the bowl down. She had no idea it had even been on her lap—she must have eaten almost all of it. Ace looked expectant. For a second, Meg almost felt like telling her everything—to unburden herself:

Let someone else have all this mess, go to bed and don't think about it for a while. C'mon. Of everyone you've ever met, she is probably the least likely to judge you.

C'mon, Megan. Say it.

Say it.

“It's complicated. It's…”

“OK,” Ace said, with a nod. “I get it. Let's finish the movie, ok?”

Dark at first. Slab, in the middle of the room. A corpse, looking at her. It was her own mother's, of course. Her dreams were getting less subtle.

“Meg,” a voice, a hand on her arm. Herbert materialized in front of her, the needle full of green—pulsating and neon. The newfound fluorescents did nothing for her complexion.

“You are cold, sure, but you have some warmth to you. Your aura. I read it somewhere…”

“Thanks mom.”

“How old am I?”

Why do you ask?

“Meg,” Herbert's hand went further up, to her forearm. He was closer, the needle squirting reagent. “I can save her. I can cure her. I can experiment on her.”

Less and less subtle.

What?

She didn't know. She looked at her mother's corpse. She had no head.

“She doesn't have a brain.”

“She doesn't need one,” Herbert said and smiled. With an almost skip of his step, he walked to the slab.

Meg watched. She also wanted to know what would happen.

“The head is in the trash can,” she said. “I should put it back.”

“No. It'll cost us results.”

Meg watched.

“Maybe if I…” Herbert looked back at her. His eyes were green. Expectant.

There was a tick tock. It was her Felix clock. Eyes going back and forth.

“Ms. Halsey.”

“Yes. I want you to save her.”

I want to know.

Meg watched. Herbert injected the reagent. He looked at the watch he had on his wrist.

“Twenty seconds…” She approached the body, and him. She put her own hand on his forearm. He didn't move. He seemed to be sweating, damping his blue shirt. “Thirty seconds.”

The trashcan started screaming. Both she and him looked at it, startled.

“Go get it,” Herbert said, finally. Meg turned towards him, an indignant expression on her face, nails against her palms. “Well? It's your mother. Not mine.”

“Your parents are dead.” The screams were louder, but she didn't budge, she kept looking into his eyes. Herbert looked back.

“So are yours. Fetch the head.”

Meg walked to the trash can—her doctor resolve on, her pink scrubs immaculate, ready for surgery—and pulled it out. Her father looked back at her. He was screaming, but no sound came out. That seemed natural to her.

“What now?”

“We'll sew them, of course.”

Meg never did see the sewing. The dream shifted. It was her house—not her old house, the house she shared with... Her mother and father were drinking tea with her. The television was on, airing Sixteen Candles.

“I'm so happy you invited us here,” her mother said, putting her cup down. Her head was sharing a neck with her dad's.

Meg beamed.

“I'm glad you could make it at a time in which… is at home.”

Her fiance… Husband… Was a doctor. She stayed at home a lot. She was happy. He was making noise in his office, getting something. She didn't know what.

“A bright young hope for the future of medicine,” her dad said, assuring her mother. He turned his head towards her. They had half clothes, her mother wore red, her father wore tweed. He had an earring on, she had his reading glasses.

“I'm back,” he said, entering the room, well humored. Meg was happy with the choice: He was tall, athletic, brown eyed and brown haired. He was bright. He was perfect.

She fixed her bob, making sure it was flipping inwards.

“...Is happy to finally get you here, mom,” Meg said, when he sat down.

“Oh yes, Meg talked so much about you. You're basically her idol.”

“Oh, please. I did my best with Meg, but it was all her. She's the bright one. She gave us no troubles.”

“No bottom drawer files,” her dad said and laughed. He laughed too, her mother laughed. Meg didn't laugh immediately, but read the room and followed suit.

The dream shifted. Meg was fucking West on the slab. There was no mother, no father. The room was darker. The clock was gone. They panted and sweated out.

She had her old white bra on, which she sometimes wore beneath more sheer blouses. It was loose on her, he had pulled it down to see her body better. Otherwise, she was naked. West dragged his hands up her torso, towards her breasts, and squeezed them. She was on top. His glasses were gone—had fallen somewhere.

He looked up at her while she looked down.

The room seemed to be composed of them alone. There was no sound other than the metal underneath, the panting, her moaning, his moaning.

More vocal than originally expected…

But he is intense, isn't he?

That's a way of saying it…

“Harder,” Herbert said, commanding. Meg stopped, locking her legs on both of his sides. “Meg,” he said, putting his hands on her hips, to pull down. She didn't budge. They were both out of breath. Her hair definitely looked ragged, but he still looked prim.

She hated that. She wanted to keep hearing him make those noises. His naked torso was illuminated by the shallow fluorescent light, his legs were half naked…

God…

“Or what? What are you going to do?” His eyes sharpened.

“Leave, but you don't want that, do you?” Meg locked him further in place. He smiled. “I figured as much…”

Mockery. His main defense mechanism.

That and attacking.

Silence again.

“Why?” Meg asked. The question seemed to echo throughout the room. Herbert raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” He repeated, half laughing. She wanted to kiss him, but had a vague notion that much of the sex was prefaced with her being pressed against a wall—or vice versa. “Why do you think?” He buckled again, she didn't let him.

“I don't know. That's why I'm asking.” He grunted, squirming.

“You and I… Are similar.”

“How?” Meg asked. She couldn't possibly understand. Herbert stopped trying to push into her and she counted that as a victory. He raised his body, pulling her closer, his lips touching hers briefly. Meg didn't try to pretend she didn't want to and raised her hands to bury her fingers into his hair.

“The main difference between you and I,” he began, looking into her eyes, caressing her neck, going down to her collarbone, with the hand he didn’t squeeze her waist with, “lies in upbringing. You were appropriately raised by a cushy family, in a cushy neighborhood. Had I been brought up as you were, maybe I'd be more like you. I'd be a nice proper doctor. I would have had swimming lessons. I'd have an alcoholic mother. I'd learn how to pray. I'd have found myself a nice girl…”

“...Or boy…” Meg completed. He smiled.

“Oh. You're not even sure I'd be interested in having you like I am now, are you? Pretty little Meg Halsey…” He took a strand of her hair in between his fingers and let the thought trail off as he began thrusting into her again, with some effort. “How long have you wanted this?” Meg sighed. He sounded perfectly normal, unphased. The sounds were gone.

This was natural to her.

“A while…”

“What's a while?” Meg didn't want to say. Herbert laid her down on the slab once more, for a more comfortable position. She flinched at the cold against her back. His head covered some of the light in that strange space and she saw him with a halo around his head. “What's a while, Ms. Halsey?”

“A… week? Two… weeks?” She asked. She didn't have the capacity for coherent thought while he was fucking her. “At least since… Since you…”

“Yes?” He asked, leaning his head slightly to hear her better.

“...Came to my house…” He laughed. Meg hated the way it made her body tingle. She put her hand over his heart and the facade fell through when she felt how fast it beat, pumping blood into his veins.

He didn't stop. It was as if he wasn't human.

“God, you are such a little whore, ms. Halsey. Maybe our sweet red haired classmate was right…”

“I didn't… Think about it…” Meg explained. “I don't think I know. I wanted you to…”

In the car. She remembered. You stared at his hands too much not to want them on you.

Herbert hummed as if he heard her thoughts, putting his hands over her again. She had one leg raised—he had a hand on it and another over her stomach.

He thrust into her harder and she moaned louder. It was rare she had full freedom to make noise like that, to show how pleased she was. He smiled.

“You used to ride those stupid men, in dormitories, inside your childhood bedroom,” he dropped his body further into hers, kneading them together. She put her legs around his waist. “And now look at you. You're under me. You and I, ms. Halsey…”

“Yes…” Meg agreed, powerless to think or say anything else. Her mouth was dry. She dug her nails into his shoulder, wanting to grab him as strongly as she felt, as much as she wanted. He didn't seem to mind.

Didn't you have a husband? Fiance?

You did…

Somewhere…

“You and I…” He repeated, thrusting, slightly out of breath. Meg put her head against him, moaning against his skin. “...Will live lifetimes together.” He raised his head and kissed her forehead, next to the roots of her hair. “You'd make a fine specimen.”

When she came in the dream, she woke up.

[sissylittlefeather]

If I Can Dream: Chapter 5

A/N: The next few chapters of this one are going to come fast and furious. We're halfway to the end and the last one will be on Christmas Day. Please keep reading! Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

Summary: It's 1975 and Jo Bellamy has been in love with Elvis for 20 years. She doesn't even care that they haven't met yet. All she needs is a chance and she's determined to get one

But Elvis doesn't feel much like Elvis anymore. What happened to the man he used to be? He's pretty sure he's long gone.

Can a chance encounter with Jo change the ill-fated trajectory of his life?

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, no smut in this one but Jo does get into some pretty heavy topics. She describes her trauma history and lightly (and I mean lightly) touches on a history of verbal abuse from her dad, sexual abuse from an ex-boyfriend, and feeling suicidal as a teenager. Some of these things are real for me, so I tried to handle them delicately in a way that wouldn't be triggering, but I need to mention them anyway.

Word count: ~2.4k

Forever, then. It's right on the tip of his tongue, but he holds it back for some reason. He'll think about that tomorrow. For now, he drifts off to sleep with her in his arms again, perfectly content.

******

On Sunday around 1 in the afternoon, Elvis wakes up to the sound of the shower going. He looks around in the bed for Jo and then puts two and two together. The steam pours out of the bathroom when he pushes the door open.

“You want some company?”

“Shit!” Jo pokes her head out of the shower curtain. “You scared me!”

“I'm sorry, honey. I just missed ya in the bed.”

“Oh, I was trying to shower and be back before you woke up.” He gestures again to the shower.

“Can I join you?” She smiles and opens the curtain, her naked body glistening with the water running down it.

“Absolutely. C’mon, babe.” He smiles as his eyes drift down her body and he whistles.

“You sure you really want this old man?” As he removes his pajamas and drops them on the floor, Jo nods. He steps into the shower and groans when the hot water hits his back. She wraps herself around him and sighs.

“I love this old man.” He kisses the top of her head and holds her tightly.

“He loves you.” They spend the next twenty minutes or so in the shower. He washes her hair and she runs a wet sponge around on his body.

The time together is a blissful escape, but there's something floating around in Elvis's brain that he just can't ignore. Eventually, as they wrap themselves in towels first and then fluffy robes, he has to say something.

“Hey honey?”

“Yeah?”

“Last night in the car, why did you move my hand?” She looks at him strangely.

“When?”

“When you were… suckin’ me… I put my hand on your head and you said 'don't do that.’ Why?” A look of realization crosses Jo's face and she nods. She bites her cuticle for a bit, trying to figure out how to say what she needs to say.

“It's kind of a long story.”

“Well, if you want to tell it, I'm here to listen.” Jo continues to bite her cuticle and then plops down on the bed. She lays down so she doesn't have to look at him while she talks.

“I have to start with my dad. My father was not a nice man, especially when he drank. He never hurt us physically, but his words hurt almost as much. And he yelled. All the time, at me and my mom. I was an only child, so I got the full force of his anger every time.”

“Did he…?”

“Oh, no. Nothing like that. But it set me up to think that's what love looked like. As soon as I started dating, the men I chose were trash. They were always older, mean, angry men who didn't treat me very well.” He takes her hand gently and she squeezes her eyes shut to try to keep the tears from sliding down the sides of her face.

“One of them… well, he liked to be in control, completely.” Elvis nods, thinking of how he used to always be dominant and in charge in the bedroom. “He would… make me go down on him and when I did… well… there's a reason your hand on my head was bad.”

She looks over at him as the tears slide down into her hair. This wasn't a secret she wanted to share, but here it is, on the table for him to see and do with it as he pleases. He holds his arms out for her to crawl into his lap. She does, curling up and leaning into him. He strokes her back affectionately and sits quietly with this information for a bit. Finally, he speaks, but the words feel empty.

“I'm so sorry, honey.”

“It's okay, I'm mostly over it. But that particular thing brings it all back. I can't think I'm losing control of my own body or it gets to me like this.” He holds her face in his hands and kisses her cheek.

“Tink, I promise I'll never do that again. Thank you for tellin’ me.” She nods and kisses his nose. “While we're on the subject of your past, you told me last night that I saved you too.”

She shifts uncomfortably in his lap.

“Yeah?”

“Will you tell me that story?” She looks into his eyes contemplating how it might impact them. But he's going to find out sooner or later. Might as well be now.

“I can't believe I'm about to tell you this. In 1953, my parents split up. Even though my dad was cruel, I was still forced to stay with him sometimes. By the time I was 16, I desperately wanted to make it end. I didn't know how to get out of seeing my dad, but I was desperate. You know how big everything seems when you're 16.”

“Yeah, honey, I remember.” She takes another deep breath and continues.

“Well, Evelyn could tell I was really down. Just when I'd hit the edge of my ability to take what my life was, she forced me to go see this kid play on the back of a truck in a parking lot.”

“No…”

“I fell in love with you that night. And my love for you kept me going even when the worst things were happening to me. Your music was my lifeline. Your movies gave me an escape from my miserable existence. When I had no one else, I knew I had you.” He looks at her incredulously. “I sound insane. God, you probably think I'm crazy.”

“How many shows?”

“Six. Well seven if you count the one where I ran on stage. Three in the fifties, two in Vegas, and one when you were on tour in ‘72.”

“Why didn't you ever try to come talk to me?” He picks up her hand and kisses her knuckles gently.

“I did! I even got kicked out once. But I could never get to you. Fuck, you're probably thinking I'm crazy and trying to figure out how to get away from me-”

“Tink, the only thing I'm thinkin’ right now is that I wish I'd found you in 1955.” She looks up at him, her eyes wide.

“You mean that?”

“With my whole heart. I've needed you for 20 years and didn't even know it.” He moves his fingers up and down her back soothingly.

“You don't think I'm insane?”

“Oh you absolutely are, but not for the reasons you think. I'm glad my music and those terrible movies were a comfort to you. It makes me feel better about making them, honestly. But I wish we'd found each other back then and saved ourselves all the pain.” She shakes her head as he leans in to kiss her cheek.

“No, there's a reason it didn't happen until now. We had to be ready. Think about it, I was so unstable then and you were young and wild. We would've been a recipe for disaster. This is better.” He pulls back and looks at her.

“Honey, you are somethin’ else. I'm so glad I found you.” He holds the side of her face with his hand and presses his forehead against hers. “I love you, Tink. And I don't think I'm ever gonna stop.”

“I love you too, Elvis. So, so much.”

******

After their serious conversation, Jo is ready for an easy day with Elvis and he knows it. They lay in the bed in robes, tangled in each other kissing and tickling and generally acting like young people in love until Jo's stomach growls.

“Oh, Tink, honey are you hungry? I am.” She giggles and her stomach rumbles. He leans over and acts like he's taking bites of her belly, tickling her instead.

“Ah! Yes! I'm hungry!” They both put on fresh pajamas and he takes her downstairs to get something to eat. After that, they lounge in the TV room for a while, not really watching what's on the screens. They spend more time making out like teenagers than anything else. Elvis thinks to himself that he should be embarrassed by their behavior, he is 40 years old after all, but he can't find it in himself to do so. He's so happy with Jo that he's practically giddy. And she's living her literal dream life, so she's not going to stop them from doing what feels natural. Still, as midnight approaches, Jo knows what has to happen. She crawls over into his lap, straddling his thighs again and he wraps his arms around her waist, kissing her neck.

“Elvis, I have to go home.” He pulls back and looks up at her in shock.

“What? Why?” The thought enters his mind that this might be a good thing and give him space to think about what the future of their relationship could possibly be, but his heart feels like it's in a vice.

“I have to work in the morning and I have no clothes here.”

“Honey, we can give Jerry your key and he'll go get some stuff for you.” She smiles and kisses his cheek gently.

“As nice as that sounds, I don't really want Jerry touching my panties. Do you?” He darkens a bit.

“No. I don't.”

“Exactly. I need to go home. I also need to sleep tonight and something tells me if I stay, that won't happen.” He nods and looks down, holding both of her hands in his. The thought of being without her makes his chest hurt. “I'll come back, though, if that's what you want.”

He puts his hand on the side of her face and his eyes search hers for a second.

“Are we kidding ourselves, honey?”

“What do you mean?” Her heart beats faster and it feels like she can hear her pulse in her ears.

“Maybe we should just see this for what it was. I have a career and a daughter and an ex wife and you… I just don't think you'd enjoy the fucking wild ride that my life is. You deserve someone stable, who'll marry you and give you children. I'm never gonna not be Elvis Presley.” She stares at him with her eyes wide and wet.

“I know that. I love you-”

“I love you too, Jo, but maybe this was just a beautiful weekend that we'll never forget.” His voice catches on the last part.

“You don't call me Jo. Elvis, what's happening?!”

“I'm just trying to save us both from the inevitable pain of how this ends.” She stands up off his lap and shakes her head.

“No, you're ending it before it starts. I want to know why.” He sighs deeply. How can he tell her that he's afraid? “You said things to me, Elvis.”

“I know, honey, and I'm sorry but I'm just not-”

“Not what?!”

“Not who you think I am.” The tears that have been threatening to spill out of her eyes finally do and slide down her cheeks.

“Then who are you, Elvis?” He shakes his head and looks at the floor.

“I dunno. But not the kind of man you need.”

“Elvis, look at me.” He reluctantly lifts his chin. “You're the man I want.”

He sits there silently staring up at her. He's torn between pulling her back down into his lap and asking her to marry him and telling her she should leave and never come back.

“Elvis… Do you not want this? Do you not want me?” More silence. He wants her so badly that it hurts, but something makes him hold back and leave everything unsaid. “How can you do this?”

“Jo, I don't know. You make me crazy. And I-I said a bunch of stuff that I shouldn't have. But now that I'm thinking clearly-”

“This is thinking clearly?! Elvis, why don't you just admit that I scare the shit out of you because what we have is real? Why can't you just say that?” His mouth pops open for a bit and then he closes it. How did she know?

“I’m not scared.”

“Bullshit.” She turns and runs up the stairs. He tries to follow her, but she's too fast. When he finally catches up to her, he's winded and she's gathering all of her stuff in the bedroom, which isn't much. He stands in the doorway watching and trying to catch his breath as she pulls off the pajamas and puts her dress back on.

“Jo, please.” She stops and turns to face him with one shoe on.

“I'm not doing this back and forth thing with you, Elvis. I'm too old. I have loved you for twenty years. Either you want me, or you don't-”

“Why do you get 20 years to decide and I get 5 days?!” Her mouth drops and she stares at him in disbelief. But he's right.

“Has it really only been 5 days?”

“Yes!” Her mouth curls into a tiny smile.

“Well that's just ridiculous.” He tries to suppress a grin.

“Yes! It is ridiculous!” She erupts in a giggle and he tries not to laugh. “I'm trying to be serious here, woman.”

Jo flops on the bed and howls with laughter, tears squeezing out of her eyes.

“5 days!” She croaks out between giggles. He sits next to her on the bed.

“Yes.” He looks down at her, his eyes sparkling as her laughter is finally slowing down. “You're not helping me love you any less.”

“You really love me?”

“Yes, goddamnit, I really do. I'm just not sure how we make this work.” She sits up and kisses his cheek.

“Let me go home tonight and go to work tomorrow. We can talk about it when I come over, if that’s still what you want.”

“Yeah, I think that's good.” He pulls her into his lap and buries his face in her neck. “I just need some time to think, Tink. It don't mean I don't love you.”

“I understand.” She lets him continue to nuzzle her.

“And you're right.” He mumbles into her neck. “But I'm not just scared; I'm fuckin’ terrified.”

“I know. It's okay.” She turns and puts her arms around him, kissing his forehead gently.

******

What happens now?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

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[on-a-lucky-tide]

A soldier yearns for home as a pining pilot watches on.

cw: hints of a shitty ex, soldiers away for Christmas.

Nik hadn’t questioned the guitar that John had loaded onto the Black Hawk. He had transported more unusual things into the heart of eastern Europe, and would do so in the future at John's behest, no doubt. That hadn't stopped him inspecting it while John had been busy briefing the 141 and an attaché of mercenaries Laswell had sent to support.

The case was solid black plastic, chipped and dented, and littered with band stickers. Some had faded to white completely, while others had peeled in places. His eyes lingered over a few bands he'd never heard of - The Fratellis, The Wombats, The… Pigeon Detectives - and some he did. John had a rather broad musical palette.

The instrument itself was well loved too, with a chip out of the main body and more faded stickers across the back and front. The varnish had worn off the fretboard, but the strings were relatively fresh; Nik ran the pads of his fingers over them and they hummed out a warm note. The musical echo of John's smile, Nik thought fondly. He clipped the case closed and grabbed a ratchet strap from a shelf to keep it secure.

They made camp in an abandoned building in the suburbs outside Timișoara. Nik could think of worse places to spend Christmas than the City of Roses, but everyone else's spirits were low. It was Christmas Eve and every soldier huddled in that little building was yearning for hearth and home. Nik had spent so long without one that he had learned to find solace where he could, and if that was enjoying the philharmonic opera and a glass of Țuică in a beautiful Romanian city after the mission, then so be it.

As he walked the floors, he heard Gaz talking softly on his phone, Soap and Ghost too, with muted Scottish voices coming through from the otherside. The lieutenant had lost so much and the sergeant had taken to including him in his own family. One day they would make it official. Nik had already picked out his suit for the occasion.

The team had a limited amount of downtime before all boots hit the ground and they went dark, and every single one had searched out their loved ones in whatever way they could. Nik hadn't realised his own heart had done the same until he ended up outside John's door.

It was ajar and Nik could hear him moving around. He was about to knock when he caught sight of John sitting down in front of a laptop, and his hand hovered in midair. A hazy picture appeared on the screen, flickering once as John adjusted the antennae.

“C'n y’ear me, Carol?”

“Yeah, John. C'n ‘ear ya, la.”

“‘Ow ya keepin’?”

“Fine, it's… I wish y’were ‘ere. I'm… it's hard. Bizzies were round lookin’ fer ‘im, he's gone an' been a prick again.”

“I know, ‘m sorry, be home soon–ahh, there she is!”

Nik leaned in and saw a new face appear on the screen. Kimmy. She was a combination of John and his sister, without a single trade of her father, as far as Nik could tell; erratic brown hair that had fought a comb to the death, broad nose and distinguished forehead, and those blue eyes were clearly a Price birthright, because they gazed owlishly from the screen as she worked out who her mother was talking to and then squealed with delight.

“Uncle John! You commin’ fer scran? Ma go’ pigs in blankets from down The Asda an’.. an’ that spotted dick wi’ custard, an’ an’...”

John chuckled. “Naw, love. Gotta sort out some bad men, then ‘ll be ‘ome, but ‘m gonna miss dinner.”

“Again?”

“Yeah, love, ‘m sorry. Ma got the clobber ya asked fer though.”

“Yeah…”

She didn't look convinced and Nik's heart ached for her.

“Bu’ listen, figured we could still do ar sing along at least. You ready?”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Eh, yeah! Wait, wait…”

She left the screen, returning moments later with what looked like an Action Man doll in a carrier vest, and plopped herself back down on her mother's lap.

“Ready!”

John tweaked the strings and played a few trial notes to test the tuning, before he opened up into the introduction. Nik had never heard him play before. Not in all the years they had known each other, and it felt strangely intimate now, John's full bicep sloped over the body of the guitar as he strummed through the chords, agile fingers moving across the frets. Nik wished he could see from the front. Imagined it so clearly in his mind’s eye.

And then John started singing and Nik had to place a hand on the wall to steady himself.

“I wanna thank the storm that brought the snow, and thanks to the string of lights that make it glow, but I wanna thank you, baby. You make it feel like Christmas.” His voice was rich, the auditory companion to the dark amber of the whiskey in his office, gravelly and a little rough from so many years smoking strong cigars, but he carried a note perfectly, even if he was keeping the volume low. Nik felt his heart trying to beat out of his chest, a little breathless as he drank in every word.

Despite the subtle crackle of the poor laptop speakers, Carol’s voice carried just as well, low and silky, as John played through her verse, his smile visible even at the sides through the perk of his round cheeks. “It barely took a breath to realise, we're gonna be a classic for all time. I wanna thank you, baby. You make it feel like Christmas.”

When they fell in together, Nik realised this wasn't a one-off. They harmonised perfectly, practised, John dropping his lower baritone to allow Carol's voice to carry over the top, and Kimmy’s delighted squeak made Nik grin so broadly his face hurt. “Sweet gingerbread made with molasses, my heart skipped and I reacted, can't believe that this is happenin’, like a present sent from God, sleigh bells singin’ Hallelujah, stars are shinin’ on us too, I wanna thank you, baby… you make it feel like Christmas.”

John leaned back, dipping his shoulders, chuckling as he played through another bar, before he carried the next verse with Carol humming and echoing beneath. “Thought I was done for, thought that love had died, but you came along, I swear you saved my life, and I wanna thank you, baby, ‘cause you make it feel like Christmas.”

It was as Carol squeezed Kimmy and pressed a kiss into her hair, the Action Man dancing across the screen in Kimmy's small hands, that Nik realised John was singing to his niece. Not some abstract lover provided by the song, but the little girl that beamed at him like he was a superhero, held by the sister he had raised himself. John had no wife, no children, but he did have a family. A family that loved him, missed him, looked at him like he hung the stars.

Nik dropped his eyes for a moment, but he couldn't look away for long. It was like staring into a bonfire in a snowstorm; the warmth on his skin warding off the bitter cold, but the intensity of the light hurting his eyes. He wanted it so ardently that his entire body ached.

“I never thought I'd find a love like this, but I found forever in that very first kiss, I wanna thank you, baby, you make it feel like Christmas.” Carol finished the lyrics and they harmonised through the last few bars as she kissed her daughter’s rosy cheeks, bouncing her on her lap as she giggled.

John struck the final note and rested his palm over the strings to bring their warm hum to an end.

“Ahh, ‘gain! Again!’

John chuckled, a sound even warmer than the one made by his guitar. “Naw, sweet’eart. S’time fer bed, or Santa ain't gonna visit."

“Yer Santa,” Kimmy said tartly. “An’ y’ain’ ‘ere.”

“Olrigh', smartarse, but if I ‘ave t’ get a flight back over ‘specially t’ rob yer presents back, I will.”

“You wouldn't."

He said nothing, but Nik could picture the raised eyebrow, the stern set of his eyes and lips. Kimmy pouted and slid from her mother's lap, looking mischievous and reluctant, but complying because she knew there was no room for negotiation. Before she disappeared, she leaned in and the camera caught the top of her head as she kissed the screen.

“Love ya, Uncle John. See soon.”

“Sleep tight, ya little beast.”

She scurried away and Carol looked back at her brother, her eyes, just as blue as his, brimmed with anxiety. “You come back safe, y’ear? Safe. No heroics, ya get the job done, ya get yer arse t’ my dinner table before New Years.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She kissed her fingers and they covered the camera briefly. “Love you, big brother.”

She took one final look at him and then the camera went black. He stared at the screen and then let out a long, rattling sigh, his face falling to his palm. Nik’s heart caught in his throat and he was frozen between leaving John to his sadness or offering comfort and revealing he'd been hovering there the whole time, invading his privacy.

He didn't need to worry for long. John's phone rang and he snatched it from the nearby table, sliding his guitar behind him to hang down his back. “Price,” he said, a stern bark. Back to business; John tidied away into the recesses of his heart, Captain Price assuming his place. John listened intently, hand on his hip. “Copy. ETA?” Another pause. “Fuck, that's too soon, we’re… yeah, Rog, we’ll be ready. We’ve got Nik with us.”

Nik smiled, stepping back. He had barely retreated four paces down the hall before his phone buzzed in his back pocket. It was John: “need you, 5 mins”.

Nik ducked into a nearby room to wait out the time. If he appeared too quickly, John would know he had been lingering nearby. He had no right to have invaded that private moment, and John deserved to believe it had been all his. A quiet moment to himself before the clusterfuck to come.

As Nik waited in the dark for the minutes to tick by, he added two new people to his silent, unwavering commitment to John Price. Nikolai would personally return John to Carol and Kimmy, their hero, safe and sound. They would sing together at Carol’s dinner table by New Years, Nik would make sure of it.

Nik left the room and knocked on John's door. When he entered, he was greeted by a lopsided smirk as John looked up from checking his M1911. “Time to get evil, Comrade.”

Nik grinned back. “It would be my pleasure.”

[paladin--strait]

soulmates part 5

luke hughes x reader

sorry this is so short! i'm hoping it'll kinda be like a filler chapter that'll kinda set things up more. sorry that its moving kinda fast, i'm hoping to keep this series under ten chapters.

tw!!: some language, use of y/n, reader can be depicted as any body shape/size. this story moves kinda fast, since I want it to only be a couple of parts long. this is a complete work of fiction. I am no way saying or implying that these people act the way they do in the story. I am open to any sort of constructive criticism! thank you!

-

"quinn." i say, shutting the door to his room behind me. "we need to talk."

he sits in silence on the side of his bed, staring blankly at the wall. "what." his words have no emotion behind them.

"what the hell is going on?" i cross my arms as i move to stand in the line of his vision.

"nothings going on." he says, his tired eyes flickering to look up at me.

"bullshit, quinn." i step towards him, "i need to know."

"i told you, it's nothing." he shrugs, looking at me with an annoyed expression on his face.

"but it's something."

"it's not your business." he fires back, his tone a little more harsh than i hope he intended it to be.

"but it is quinn," i plead, sitting beside him and putting a hand on his shoulder. "it involves me somehow and i need to know what it is."

he doesn't respond, his shoulders dropping as he sighs.

"i don't want to spend the last two weeks at the lake house with some of y'all being so depressed. there's tension, quinn. and it's killing me already, killing the others. they won't tell me what's going on, so i need you to."

"fine." he says, looking over at me. "i..." i wait for his response, hoping it's nothing bad.

"i made a huge mistake." he sighs and i look at him with a confused look on my face. "i shouldn't have tried to set you and luke up together."

my brows furrow, "why not? i thought you said we would be perfect for each other."

"because..." he looks down at his sock covered feet, "i didn't realize...how much i like you..."

my eyes widen slightly at his sudden confession, "what...?"

"i like you, y/n." he looks back up at me, this time with a look of pure adoration in his tired eyes. "me and luke...we got into it after you left for vancouver. brock said something about the way we act towards each other and it made me realize how much i truly like you..."

my shoulders slump a little, "quinn...i don't know what to say."

"you don't have to say anything. i know you don't like me that way and i'd prefer we stay friends. if you still want to be, that is." he says, his lips pursing into a line after he finishes speaking.

"i'd love to still be friends with you, quinn. you're everything to me. but, i don't like you like that and i don't want our opposing feelings for each other to take a toll on our friendship." i explain, hoping he'll understand.

"i agree completely." he nods, "but luke is upset with me and i don't want me and him to be upset with each other and there be even more tension if the two of you end up together."

"i'll talk to luke, try and work things out." i stand, putting my hands in the pocket of my canucks hoodie. "i think i like him, quinn. he's different than what i thought he'd be. he called me a few times while i was gone to check up on me, he's really sweet."

quinn smiles softly, "i'm glad he's been so good to you. i'm sorry about all this."

"don't be sorry, quinny. everything will be okay. and i'm sure it's just a little crush, you'll probably get over it soon." i smile at him, holding my arms wide open for a hug and he stands immediately, placing his arms around my waist and pulling me in for a hug. it's gentle but loving, his chin placed on my shoulder.

i let go, walking over to his door and opening it to leave, "you'll get over it soon, i promise." i whisper, smiling at him softly.

but i don't hear the words that leave his mouth after i shut the door behind me. "probably..." his words laced with sadness and defeat as the bed dips under him as he sits back down.

-

i walk down the hallway and to luke's room, knocking on the door.

a few seconds later, a tired looking luke opens the door. his eyes are red and puffy, like he's been crying. "hey luke...can we talk?" i ask. he nods, opening the door further to let me in. i walk in and he shuts the door behind me, looking over at me. "i just talked to quinn and-"

"shut up." he cuts me off, his hands placed on my hips as he pulls me closer.

"luke...what are you doing?" i ask, my eyes widening with confusion and almost a hint of excitement.

"what i've been wanting to do for a while." luke's words are quiet and sweet, with a sense of urgency and nervousness hinted in there too. "what i need to do before he takes you away from me."

[gravity-falls-fanatic89]

Me, just having a moment here...I'm not a fan of Christmas because of it being a lot, so I wrote a little comfort story just to help myself and all of us know Stan would be there if you needed the support. 🫂

Stan Pines x Reader fluff/All ages

Simply Having A Wonderful Christmas With You

It was Christmas day, and it looked like a picture perfect snow outside the windows of the Shack. You woke up to Stan with his arms wrapped around your waist, and his chin nested on the top of your head. You couldn't help but snuggle in deeper to him, and burrow a little in his arms and the blankets.

But your wiggling made him wake up with a snort. "Mornin' babe. Merry Christmas." And you turned your head to give him a kiss on the chin. He still had his eyes closed, but smirked.

"Alright, if ya just wanna stay in bed, we can do that for Christmas instead," he said, nestling his scruffy chin into the back of your neck and hair.

"Merry Christmas handsome," you sighed. "And as much as I would love to spend the day in your arms, everyone is going to be over in a bit. We should get ready."

"Alright, alright...I'll getcha later, babydoll." And he kissed your neck, and you two got dressed for the little party you were having at the Shack.

Everyone came and the party went well. The place was warm and cozy, and everyone was enjoying food, and each other's company. As it was getting dark, you started to feel tired, and realized you forgot your anxiety meds. Realizing that made you start to get nerved up, and feel claustrophobic in the house.

Before you could feel a panic attack come, you excused yourself from Melody and Wendy, stepping out onto the back porch by the old Pitt Cola machine. Snow was falling steady, and calmed you down, reminding you of the snowglobes you used to have as a kid.

Closing your eyes, you took a bunch of huge breaths, and focused on listening to the wind as it lightly blew. It was cold, and soothing at the same time. Then you heard the door behind you open, as Stan stepped out.

"Gettin' overwhelmed hon?" he asked, putting a thick blanket over your shoulders and handing you a hot chocolate.

"A little bit. Just so many conversations going on, the lights are bright, and it was really stuffy," you said, feeling guilty. "Sorry I had to step out."

Stan put his arm around your shoulders, and squeezed. "Ya never need to be sorry for that. No one thought a thing about it. So, drink the hot chocolate, and I'm gonna dim the lights for dinner, and get it calmer in there for ya."

He bent in to give you a kiss, and you giggled as you looked up afterwards, seeing him hold mistletoe over the two of you.

"Thank you handsome, I needed that." And you sipped the hot chocolate as he went back inside to get dinner set.

You drank the hot chocolate, and closed your eyes for a little longer, thankful for the sweet gestures that Stan had done to help you through Christmas. It took everything out of you to get through the holidays, and he was on top of it all: Picking out a tree, decorating with you, finding gifts, wrapping them, baking cookies....Just all of it. He kept you from sinking into a bad rut like years past before you met him.

A final gulp from the cup, and you proceeded into the Shack, and the lights were off, minus the tree in the living room. The warm glow was relaxing and eased your anxious mind. Everyone was at the table, minus Stan, as he was walking over to check on you again.

"Better, sweetheart?"

You looked up at him, and your heart felt full, and loved. "Yeah, I'm much better now, handsome. Thank you for being here for me through all this. This has been one of the nicest Christmas holidays I've had, and I'm excited to celebrate Hanukah with the kids too. I love you so much...And Merry Christmas, my love."

And you tilted up for a kiss, and Stan drew back. "I love you too, and Merry Christmas. Now, let's go celebrate and enjoy it with family."

He took your hand, and you walked in together, and your Christmas was complete.

[lemongrasstea1677]

Switcheroo

Jin x MC

Sypnosis: Due to an anomaly accident, Jin and the Honor Student switched bodies! how would their whole day go with each other's body?

(MC/Reader will be called Honor Student here)

||•||

"Captain? Are you awake yet?"

Tohma knocked on the door of his captain, a firm but not too loud knock as he knows how it irritates Jin when someone is making too much noise in his presence

and due to the accident yesterday, an anomaly was acting out where Jin and the honor student happened to be passing by and got both dragged into, both are lightly injured yet still needing some medical assistance from a nearby "medical" dorm

the captain of the Mortenkranken hesitated to treat Jin even if he was offered tons of paycheck but as soon as he heard that the Honor Student needed treatment he practically jumped at it saying something how he's the most befitting to do their treatment.

seriously that narcissistic self important doctor should be put in his place for once

"Good morning Tohma-kun..." a soft deep voice cut Tohma off his thoughts, Jin opens his door and yawns at the sight of him

"Oh? it's unusual for you to greet me, did something good happen today?" Tohma smirked, he's going to use this gesture later to tease his captain to no end

"Huh? why would something good need to happen for a greeting? anyways do you need something?" droopy half lidded eyes looked back at him, giving off the impression of a vulnerable and defenseless handsome man who just woke up

a man who is the total opposite of Jin Kamurai

"You are acting quite strange Captain, are you perhaps sick?" Tohma brought his hand to Jin's forehead before putting his forehead against it

"T-Tohma-kun!?" Jin jumped back at his gesture, face completely flushed and embrassed before letting what he said sink in and finally the confusion stir

"Wait... captain?"

•||•

Meanwhile, the Honor student of the Clementia dorm was seen striding towards the Frostenheim, with a frown that seemed permanently pasted on their face. Their blazer wrinkled as if they slept on it, some buttons of their shirt and tie almost undone

walking fast as you can might not have been a good idea after all as they bump to the captain of Sinostra, Hoshibami Taiga

"Huh? who the fuck're you?" Taiga scowled down at the person he bumped to

now, the normal Honor student would've apologized immediately whether they are in a bad mood or not and it doesn't even matter if it is Taiga, they'll apologize no matter who it is they are too kind for their own good. it'd be a bonus if Taiga decided to pull them somewhere and include them in his hijinks

but instead they acted completely out of character

"You're in the way, move." They scowl at him trying to walk past him, but instead stopped as he Taiga gripped their arm pulled them closer to his face

"Ha!? who do you think-- oh its you little kitty!" Taiga lightened up, finally recognizing their face up close

anyone would expect the honor student (?) would be embarrassed by his words but the anger deepens in their face instead

"call me that again and i swear I'll-"

"Jin-san!" a deep hearthy voice calls out interrupting the Honor student (?) from digging their grave by talking like that to Taiga

"Haah..... I'm glad I've found you, um I'm sorry Taiga-san but I'll steal the Honor Student from now!" Jin (?) apologizes to Taiga before hurriedly grabbing the Honor Student (?) and walking off together towards Frostenheim leaving the red haired man stunned with a baffled face

"...did that bastard just say sorry to me?"

||•||

"this feels so weird to look at" Kaito mumbled watching the two

"It is... very strange indeed" Luca agrees crossing his arm watching the same scene as Kaito

"I cannot agree more" Tohma added with a smug smile amused by what he is watching

Jin Kamurai, the cold king of Frostenheim is with a kind expression pouring tea for the Honor Student who is the opposite; having a neverending scowl plastered on their face whilst laying down on the sofa one will normally find Jin laying in

"Jin-san, I'm done with the documents as well I'm going to class no-"

"Good, now go tell the chef i want meat for today, don't disturb me until its lunch time I'm taking a nap." The Honor student or Jin in their body cut them off before turning his back and sinking in further to the sofa

"B-but...!"

"And also, don't do anything weird with my body, if i hear you go running around doing shit that would get people talking you'll pay for it" He threathens them, striking with a glare

"But what about my classes Jin-san? i also have gym today...." a moment of silence before he grumbles in their voice and propped him themself up

"....tch, The two of you lead the way" Jin walked out of the door, followed by Luca and Kaito sharing glances at each other before striding off after him

"Ah, remember to act like the Honor student Jin-sama if you don't want for people to be figure out what's going on and spread rumors about y-"

Jin slammed the door shut cutting off Tohma, who lets out an amused chuckle

"My, My, the honor student is so grumpy" Tohma snickered while The honor student in Jin's body sighed and slumped at his statement

"Can't we really just go on our day as usual? i mean its just our bodies that switched..." the honor student asked sitting down on the sofa Jin on their body laid down on earlier

"You can't at all, Jin tend to really care about his reputation and he's the future president of Japan's anomaly branch, we can't have him acting not like himself for a day... even if it is for the better he acts like you for once" Tohma explained while picking up and fixing the documents from the tea table

"I see... i kinda know Jin-san's schedule, but seeing as he is the captain he must have tons of work" They say picking up the untouched teacup and bringing it back to the tray as the real Jin left it not even touching it before he left.

Tohma grinned darkly, seeing an opportunity he won't get the real Jin to do even if he begged and dropped to his knees

"Well now that you mentioned it, he mostly help me with my paperwork during his free time" a lie, Jin wouldn't do that unless he is interested in the paperwork Tohma is working on and it's not even called helping when he blows a cloud of smoke at his face and give his own statement here and there while laying down lazily listening to some classical music

"That seemed like a lie but okay, I'll do my best then!" they beamed, Tohma's grin widen.

||•||

"what's their first class?" The honor student (Jin) asked them in a nonchalant voice, eyes half lidded looking bored

"U-uh well we both have Anomalous Information Studies today." Kaito nervously glanced at the sight of them, the approachable and kind honor student he have a crush on, acting cold and uninterested aches his heart a bit

"...okay" Jin doesn't seem to argue about it continuing to walk infront of them, Luca observes Jin in their body and thought to himself how the honor student would walk together Luca and Kaito, talking to them about something and perhaps their position sometimes in between of the two since him and Kaito act as a barrier for them if anything happens but now it seems like the honor student is leading them two acting more of a captain than a friend to them, though he must say he do love to see the honor student in a more cool aura and he can't help his mind wandering about the cool version of them and not Jin inside their body

"Oh if it isn't the honor student!" Ruistops at his steps and turns his attention at the honor student (Jin) as walks up to the trio, his charming smile brightens up the hallway making the passerbys turn their heads

"You look cuter today! did you do something with your appearance?" he looked at them with a smile and a flirtatious gaze, it took them a moment to answer before stepping forward and looking at gim properly

"...take a guess" The honor student (Jin) smirked at him crossing their arms

"Uhh, yes? i won't know if you don't tell me the deets--"

"Figure it out, if you can't then don't talk to me" The honor student (Jin) walked past him, their face returns to the same irritated scowl they are wearing earlier

"they seem... odd today don't they?" Rui scratched his chin confused, by how they acted towards him

"Yep, must've woked up in a wrong side of bed...or wrong body..." Kaito whispered that last bit but Luca heard him and nodded his head

The honor student (Jin) entered the classroom, some of their classmates looks at them before turning away instead to whisper, in Jin's case this isn't new at all he's used to this treatment ever since he was young, being an heir does get people talking alot. some even approaching him to get his favor

But this is different, the hushed whispers don't speak of compliments and opportunities, but instead of pity and concern

"They look grumpy today...."

"I wonder what happened that made them so angry"

"it's probably those ghouls huh? I'd be stressed out too if i have to spend my days running around them"

Jin was about to turn his back and snap at the hushing stufents before remembering Tohma's words, the servant would probably just be quite in their seat and it would be a bonus if they actually defended the ghouls

What a bother this day is

Luca and Kaito later on entered and sat next to him

||•||

"Do these men just go after them all the time?" Jin grumbled in the Honor Student's voice in P.E. uniform as he strut down the hallway

From the vice captain of Hotarubi, then to Alan and his first year to that happy go lucky anomaly carrier from Jabberwock. he can't believe how many ghouls had stopped on their tracks just to talk to him or the honor student in question

they just really even have to piss him even more off when he got lingering touches from them that stayed longer to be considered as a gesture. A pat in the head, a tuck of his hair in his ear, even going as far as hanging their arms in his shoulder...! just how touchy feely is HIS servant to these people really?

He can't also believe he had to dress himself in the dark and close his eyes the whole time he was dressing himself on their gym clothes

he clicked his tongue before walking to up the tracks, he stretched his limbs before preparing for his turn at the tracks watching the other general students finish a lap

Jin might not be the fastest runner in the world but he isn't bad when it comes to physical classes

so he sprinted as fast as he could

but he absolutely forgot he was in their body and gave it too much sheer force that he felt their legs almost give up with every stride he took when the adrenaline rush lowered bit by bit

he slowed down near the finish after a lap, the anomalous coach blew its whistle writing down something in the clipboard before he limped to the side with his laboured breaths as he felt the cramp finally getting to his or he meant their calf.

"Woah!!" few heads including Jin's turn to the usual deep cold voice that looks down on others is now toned with amazement for someone he considers his servant, Jin (The Honor Student) is here, in the shade of trees with admiration in his eyes while he gazed at the Honor Student

Everyone thought that was unnerving

"What are you doing here?" Jin whispers as he strode up to them slowly clearly tired from the whole running he just did in their body

"Ah, Tohma let me take a walk since I'm done with my work and i forgot i was in your body so i thought i was late for class and rushed to the tracks and..." Jin (the honor student) noticed how their legs shakes as the real Jin in their body gripped his body's shoulders with force they couldn't imagine they had in their fingers in the first place

"Jin..?"

"Well since you're here, carry me to the nurse's office i think i ran too much with this weak ass legs of yours" The honor student (Jin) slung their arms in Jin's (The Honor Student's) shoulders as they limply walked together with the cold tyrant captain of Frostenheim that who is seemingly to be in their mercy

The general students is going to mind their business on this one.

||•||

from a far, it seemed romantic really

in fact one would think like this;

the stoic stone cold captain of Frostenheim finally warming up to the wholesomeness the Honor student always seem to carry around them and now its Jin's turn to carry them and cheer up the Honor Student with the same warmth who's actually being so frowny and snappy today

"You were so cool Jin, i never ran that much in that class so seeing myself run that fast, it's so amazing!" It was really astonishing seeing his features smile like he have no problems to worry about, but he figures his face can only smile like that if they were in his body, only they can smile in his place.

he smirked at them

"If you think I'm that amazing for giving you a good grade in your records then do me a favor and--" a sudden force in his back cut him off as he slipped away from his body and slumped down together with the person who decided to just back hug him all of the sudden

Flowery scent filled up his nostrils as soft cotton invaded the stomach of the body he's currently on

"~~!!"

it's the lavender haired weirdo from Jabberwock, clinging to him-- no to the Honor Student this guy probably thought of

"Towa-kun? please let go of my- i mean the Honor Student" They say with firmness, trying to imitate the stoic Jin Kamurai, the real Jin in another hand find it amusing

"..." Towa stared at Jin (Honor Student) for a moment with a unreadable expression before letting go of the Honor student (Jin) and instead jumping and hugging Jin before enclosing his leg in his waist

"Woah! what's this all of a sudden?" Jin (the Honor Student) was taken aback by Towa's sudden change of target as the boy hums happily in his hold of them

"~~~! ~~!" Towa nuzzles himself further into Jin, hugging tightly as he could

the real Jin watched in awful shock at the scene before him, he doesn't know on which he'll be more appalled at;

at the blatant display of unwanted affection in his body or at the blatant display of affection for them infront of him

"Towa, you can let go of me i have to take Jin to the infirmary" Jin (The Honor student) tried prying Towa away from his body therefore only furthering Towa's clinging to be even tighter

"...---!!" Towa pouts at Jin (The Honor Student) before letting his legs slide down but not his arms that is still wrapped Jin's torso

"Didn't you hear them? they told you to fucking let go" The honor student's spoke with venom as Jin spites at Towa with their voice

"...." Towa silently glared at The Honor Student (Jin) as dark clouds started to brew outside with thunders that can be heard in the distance

"Towa..! I'll visit Jabberwock later, so please let go? I'll bring you a pretty flower later, okay?" they promise to the lavender haired boy in Jin's voice before accepting it with a smile and letting go of Jin's body before skipping down the hallway away from them

"Are you okay Jin?" They crouch down at him, he stared daggers at making them immediately nervous at his contact

"No, now help me up i think that guy dislocated my- i mean your ankles" Jin grumbles in a condescending tone as The Honor student helps him up finally slinging him back at their- his shoulder

"now about that favor, i want you to not let the other guys touch you THAT much anymore" their eyes widen at Jin's request as if its the most baffling thing he'll make them do

"...They don't touch me alot" They protest at him, fixing him up their shoulder before he slips again from their hold

"Oh yeah? i had five of them touch you everywhere earlier without me telling them to do so, actually make it six if you also consider that boy suddenly attacking me from behind " He clicked his tounge remembering the whole ordeal earlier, who the hell does that boy think he is glaring at him like that

"Towa didn't mean it, it's just that... he's very clingy you should understand him" They open the infirmary door alerting the sleeping nurse cat to wake up from its nap on the desk with the lunchbreak tag nearby it

"No, now do it or I'll ask your physical ed to take down the score i did for you today" Jin reprimanded them, it's a bit weird for him to be this worried for some little touches by other ghouls, but to be honest it's cute

"what are you giggling at?" he raised his eyebrow at them as they giggle at him even further

"i guess i can do what you asked" They beamed at him once again, he can't really get used seeing his face with that warm expression

but maybe, just maybe.... someday he'll experience to smile like that

if only....

"good, because if you don't then I'll tell them myself to fuck off forever in your body or not so you'll stay with me forever" he turns himself away from them before plopping and laying down in a infirmary bed ignoring the cat nurse that's sitting by in the nurse's desk that picked up a document, waiting for him to sign

"is that a promise?" Jin ignored them too but he guess they knew the answer

by the next day the two turned back to their original bodies, but Jin's promise remains if he sees one of those assholes try touching them once again

||•||

i got bored so.... ye

(I'm posting this at 1:36 am so i might be regretting this later on but its gonna be fine iguess)