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hqbaby · 9 days

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four — can i see you

tag, ur it! — sakusa ? iwaizumi ? osamu ?

*ੈ✩‧ love is a losing game your roommate, your ex, or the guy you totally haven’t been seeing—the choice should be simple, right? right?

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 1.1k content. profanity

You were a freshman. A stupid, naive, lost lamb of a freshman.

It was your first week at college and you’d gotten lost between classes. Your friends—stupid, lost freshmen just like you, though they’d never admit it—were no help at all.

After walking around, imagining how the professor would scold you for being late for class (you later realized they didn’t care at all), you admitted defeat and sat down on a bench to wallow in your misery.

You contemplated how you’d tell your mother that you were dropping out of school, leaning back and trying your best not to burst into tears.

And that was when you saw him. The love of your life who was going to wreck it all.

He was tossing a frisbee around with a group of guys whose name you’d later come to know all too well. From a distance, he looked terrifying, definitely not the kind of guy you could walk up to and ask for directions. Yet, there you were, somehow pulled out of your seat, drawn to him.

“Hey,” he said, like you were an old friend. “You good?”

That’s when the floodgates opened and you found yourselves bawling to this stranger, blurting out every single one of your doubts and fears as he pulled himself away from his group and sat you down on a patch of grass.

He nodded to each of your worries and rubbed your back, trying to calm you down. “It’ll be okay,” he said between your rambling. “Just relax a little.”

Eventually, you ran out of words and tears and devolved into a hiccuping mess, rubbing your eyes and nose, trying to breathe.

“That’s it,” he said, smiling as you started to settle down.

You blinked at him. The embarrassment suddenly hit you and you buried your face in your hands. “Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you said, avoiding his eyes. “I must look insane.”

He just laughed. “Nah, you’re good,” he told you, moving away from you and sitting down. “It’s good to let things out every now and then, you know. Helps the nerves or some shit.”

You looked up at him and cringed. Had you really just sobbed like a kid to this god of a man?

“I’m so fucking embarrased.”

He laughed again. “Don’t be,” he told you. “Do you want me to do something embarrassing to make up for it?”

You shook your head. “Please don’t. I’d feel worse,” you said. You wiped your eyes and let your shoulders slump. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he told you, getting up. He reached his hand out for you to take, and you surprised yourself when you took it and pulled yourself up. “Come on, let’s get you to class.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why are you so nice?”

He grinned at you and shrugged. “I don’t know about you, but it’s not every day that a pretty girl comes up to me and asks for help.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m really not,” he told you, grabbing your bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “Let’s go, pretty girl, you wouldn’t wanna be late, would you?”

The two of you made your way back to the building, stopping at the restroom so you could try and salvage the way you looked. You already messed up one first impression by looking insane, you didn’t want your classmates to suffer the same fate.

He led you to the third floor where your classroom was, pointing out different places you’d need to know later on as you went. “You’re an art student right?”

You nodded. “Painting major.”

“Damn.” He whistled. “That’s kinda hot.”

“You’re fucking with me, right?”

He shook his head. “I’m really not,” he told you. “You gotta have a little more confidence if you’re gonna make it through college, pretty girl.”

Pretty girl. He’d called you that more times that you could count in the short amount of time that you’d been with him. If anything was going to drive you to the brink of insanity again, it was that silly pet name.

“You’re not some creepy upperclassman who’s gonna start stalking me, are you?” you asked. “Because if you are, I’m only into that in very special cases.”

“Hey, I’m probably a year older than you. Two, tops.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

He stopped in front of the door. 312-B, the classroom you’d spent the last hour looking for. He handed you your bag and smiled that easy smile of his.

“For the record, I’m not,” he said. “A creepy upperclassman, I mean.”

You smiled. “Yeah, I figured. A little boring, but it’s fine.”

“I’m Osamu,” he said, holding his hand out for you to shake.

You reached out and told him your name. “Thank you, really.”

His hand lingered on yours before he pulled away. “Don’t worry about it,” he told you. Then, he winked. “You can always pay me back later, pretty girl.”

And just like that, he turned to leave, waving at you as you pushed the door open.

You sat down in class waiting for your professor who would show up thirty minutes late, and all you could think about was Osamu. And he was really all you thought about for the rest of the week. And the next two years.

“You’re distracted,” Tsukishima says, dropping the stack of books on your desk. “Mimi wants to give these away.”

“Like donate them?” you ask, looking over the titles. Art books that you suspect you’ll never be able to afford at the rate you’re going. “Would she donate them to me?”

He shakes his head and walks over to his desk. “She just said to give them away,” he tells you. “Have at them.”

Smiling, you slide the books over to the side of your desk and turn back to your laptop. “Have you sent the emails yet?”

“Weren't you supposed to?”

“Yeah,” you say as you look over your laptop at him. You flutter your eyes at him in an attempt to make him weak at the knees. “But I was kinda hoping you’d do it.”

Tsukishima looks at you, immune to your tricks. “I could have her fire you right now, you know.”

You snarl. “I hate you.”

“Thanks. Now, send those emails,” he says, turning back to his own work. “So, why are you so distracted today?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re never this crappy at your job,” he tells you. “What is it?”

You look over at where your phone is placed face down on your desk. You think of the text on it, waiting for your reply.

can i see you?

An overwhelming feeling washes over you. Like you’re a freshman again. Like you’re a fool.

You shudder at the thought.

“Nothing,” you say as you pull up the emails you were supposed to send. “Just tired.”

notes. and we're back!!! sorry for the late updates but we're starting back up again ;) so excited for you guys to read the rest of this series

#hqbaby.tag ur it!#hqbaby #haikyuu #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa #sakusa x reader #miya osamu #osamu #osamu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader

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hitlikehammers · 2 months

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stupid superpower

rating: teen tags: humor, brotherly ribbing, Dustin has a ✨stupid superpower✨, Dustin continues to have issues with his tone ✨for @slashify at my BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST for the prompt: Character Has Powers (requested to be Dustin)

“Look, see!” Dustin points at the mat he’s laid out on the coffee table in Steve’s living room. “This is why Dart was so easy, it makes so much sense now.”

He turns to them with the biggest grin that’s getting a little less gummy by the week, now, but…he looks so proud, is the thing.

And it is painful. The pride. What it’s for.

The way they’re gonna have to probably dash it.

“I,” Steve squints at the setup, start to finish, empty cans framing the perimeter before he sighs: “I am not seeing anything, man.”

“No,” Dustin’s voice goes pitchy, really, he should have outgrown that by now, s’looking like it’s a permanent trait, yeesh; “look.”

And he points with such…some superiority, such imperiousness, like…okay, so maybe it’s the least painful of the list, when they have to dash all that pride. Kid’s gotta fucking learn some humility, man. Like, sooner rather than later.

“I told you I could communicate with them!” Dustin pulls off his cap and throws it to the couch, triumphant. Steve watches the mat for a few more seconds before he straights up, cocks his hip and crosses his arms.

“You’re telling me,” he says slowly; “that you talk to slugs.”

Because that…that certainly appears to be what the argument has been. They’d kinda thought Dustin has been joking, in previous passing mention. Eddie, at least, definitely thought he was just being an annoying little prick for how many times he asked if either of them felt particularly chiropteran, muttering about traits from interactions, close encounters, bites would obviously count.

Like, it was Dustin, if they took all the crap he said to heart, weighed it seriously, they’d never do anything else.

Like: ever.

“Interspecial gastropodic extracommunicational phenomena,” Dustin rattles off, a little defensive, if Eddie’s gonna be honest; and it wasn’t exactly called for. Steve just asked a question.

Eddie, on the other hand…

“So slugs and snails,” Eddie confirms, droll as fuck by intention, because Eddie is actually very aware of his tone in most situations, thank you very much; “the shell doesn’t deter you.”

“No, I think it’s the whole at least the whole class, maybe the whole phylum,” and he’s so excited, but, he’s also being a fucking know-it-all about it and there is a part of Eddie that doesn’t want to squash Dustin’s enthusiasm but the bigger part of Eddie, but fucking far, knows for a goddamn fact no one could possible squash Dustin’s enthusiasm, or self-confidence, like, Dustin would happily go toe-to-toe with like, Stephen fucking Hawking, and brag afterward that the intellectual stimulation was lacking.

So Eddie doesn’t actually feel bad about any of this and Dustin rambles on.

“But I think if I got my hands on a limpet, or an abalone—“

And when he looks up he must catch something, like he must be able to tell, to read something despite Eddie being very fucking careful to keep a helluva poker face right now—and Eddie’s kinda proud, because maybe the little shithead can be taught.

“You’re joking,” Dustin concludes, dry as fuck and with the audacity to sound…disappointed? Like in a how-could-you-be-so-juvenile-as-to-stoop-to-this-level kind of way which. Which.

“Not at all,” Eddie clutches his non-existent pearls in mock offense, and Dustin’s eyes just narrow.

“I was right.”

“Might not want to say that too loud, Dusty-Buns,” Eddie shoots right back and Steve coughs unconvincingly to cover a laugh and Eddie bites his bottom lip to stop his own smile, less because of Dustin’s reaction and more just because…Stevie. Being adorable.

Steve being his Stevie.

“Yeah, that feels like slander,” Steve adds in thoughtfully, stroking his chin and everything before he turns to Eddie, considering.

“Can you slander yourself, if you’re embarrassing enough?”

And oh, oh: Eddie adores it when his boyfriend’s bitchy side comes out. He adores it so much.

“‘Course you can, big boy,” Eddie can’t help himself as he leans over and pecks at Steve’s cheek; Dustin scowls at them and Eddie can’t help himself, so he licks up Steve’s cheek for the disgusted grown from Dustin and the half-assed shove from Steve that doesn’t move him further away at all.

“You’re just jealous that I have a superpower,” Dustin ultimately shoots back which: okay, Eddie knows he’s capable of better than that, he’s kind of disappointed, that was so weak.

“It’s a stupid superpower,” Steve points out, plain and simple and Eddie wants to clap his hands. He. Loves. His. Bitchy. Boyfriend.

So. Much.

“Or is it a superpower for stupid?” Eddie asks, turning back to Steve like it’s a genuine question, a worthy debate.

“Naw,” Steve shakes his head, almost regretful; “he is pretty fuckin’ smart.”

“More than one kind of stupid, Stevie,” Eddie notes with due gravitas.

“Envy,” Dustin sniffs, so goddamn superior. “Green’s really not your fucking color,” and ooo, there’s a little snarl, a little sneer on his lips; “either of you.”

“I look good in green,” Steve points out, not even petulant, just factual.

“For example,” Eddie picks up and talks over Dustin’s comment like he never made one, leveling the little asshole with a pointed look:

“Some people are stupid about their tone.”

Steve doesn’t even try to cover his snort that time.

“You look good in everything, sweetheart,” Eddie takes the opportunity to comment, to sneak another kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth as he purrs; “and out.”

“Disgusting,” Dustin gags and Eddie turns to glare as he bites out:

“Tone!”

Like, way to prove Eddie’s fucking point for him, wow, the lack of self-preservation is overwhelming here.

“I’m gonna go find El,” Dustin announces, like he thinks it’s an airport; “she will be thrilled to have someone like her around—“

“Remember what I said?” Eddie turns to Steve, exaggerates the knowing look he gives; “types of dumb,” then he turns again to Dustin, and knows his look is pitying, because he fucking means for it to be.

“Telekinesis and slug-speak aren’t even in the same universe, man,” and Jesus H., Dustin looks offended at the suggestion, which.

Which.

“The overlap of telepathic—“

“Slugs, Dustin,” Steve butts in, cuts him off; “I drown those fuckers in little bowls of beer in the yard. They go in willingly,” and oh. Oh, Eddie loves his boyfriend.

Eddie loves his boyfriend so goddamn much.

Because he hadn’t even noticed the set up, the slight of hand, because Steve had overturned the can of PBR he hadn’t finished, that had gone warm anyway, and dumped it into the shallow little bowl that used to have pretzel sticks inside, low enough to, to—

“Well they won’t anymore,” Dustin declares, fucking haughty with it; “because I will tell them—“

“Yet behold, special super slug-whisperer,” Eddie gasps and gestures wide to the mat where the slug demonstration had originally taken place: “whatever do we have here?”

What they have there is the little bowl of beer, set on the slug mat.

With slugs already drowned inside.

“Probably maybe you should be smarter about where you stick your attention if you really want to save your precious children from their hoppy graves,” Eddie shrugs, and infuses his words with as much fake fucking concern as he can fit into them because slug-whispering.

Fucking honestly.

Dustin only wastes a few seconds gaping at the scene, mouth working around something—comprehension, maybe, or just some degree of shock—before he turns his eyes up and glares at them both.

“You’re evil,” he says definitively, pointing; “both of you.”

“Go see El, Super Slug,” Eddie smiles indulgently; “she’s absolutely trembling with anticipation at the arrival of an equal, I’m sure of it.”

“After all, didn’t you say,” Steve shrugs and folds his arms over his chest, looks Dustin up and down before delivering the final blow:

“You were right.”

And Dustin scowls, and Eddie cackles, because that’s his brother, that’s their brother.

“Fucking assholes,” Dustin mutters, and leaves his slug mat and the beer-bowl behind as he stomps out the door: these children really need to learn about cleaning up after themselves, even if they leave in a stompy little huff like a goddamn toddler, fucking hell: but still.

Dustin’s their brother.

Like they were ever going to let him get away with bragging about slug powers.

permanent tag list (comment to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #henderfam #humor #fluff #established relationship #featuring brotherly banter with one mr. problematic *TONE*: dustin henderson #dustin has superpowers #(but just one really and it's very stupid)#dustin henderson #hitlikehammers' hobbit-birthday prompt fest #stranger things #gift fic #slashify

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justabigassnerd · 1 year

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Sick Day

Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x daughter!reader

Word count - 1,028

Warnings - colds, medicine, mentions of Goose and Carole, mostly just fluff

Summary - you're sick with a cold but thankfully your dad is by your side to help you feel better

A/N - hey y'all it's new fic time! this was a lovely anon request so I hope I did the idea justice because I always wanna do right by y'all! I won't ramble, as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

Like every child. You were prone to getting sick quite easily. At four years old, your immune system was still developing and so it was easy for a small bug that wouldn’t bother someone like Bradley to bother you. It always broke Bradley’s heart when you were unwell because there was only so much, he could do to make you feel better and he felt powerless.

This particular instance, you weren’t massively ill. You were running a slight temperature and you had a bad cough, but Bradley was relieved when he took you to the doctor’s and learnt it wasn’t cause for concern. As long as he kept you home to rest, gave you medicine and plenty of fluids, you’d recover in no time. When he had arrived home from the doctor’s, he called your kindergarten and told them you wouldn’t be in for a few days before texting Maverick to let him know he needed to be at home until you were well enough to go back to kindergarten. Bradley then took you upstairs, figuring you’d want to rest in your comfy bed.

“Okay, y/n/n. You wait right here and I’m going to get you some medicine. Sound good?” Bradley asks as he goes to put you down on your bed, only stopping when you whine in protest and cling tighter to him.

“No, daddy. Don’t leave.” You whine hoarsely, burying your face in his shoulder.

“Oh, honey, you’ll feel better if you rest. I’ll come back.” Bradley tries bargaining with you, fighting to not crumble when you pull away slightly and give him your famous puppy dog eyes.

“Wanna stay with you.” You whine once more, making Bradley fall apart right then and there.

“Okay, fine. Come on. Let’s find you some of your medicine.” Bradley says, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to the bathroom where the medicine cabinet was. He manages to find your medicine easily since it was at the front of the cabinet, but he had a much more difficult time trying to open the bottle and pour it on the spoon when you were refusing to let him put you down which meant he only had one free hand.

“Alright y/n/n. I have to put you down, okay? It’ll be quick, I promise. I’ll sit you right here in front of me, give you the medicine and then you can have some more cuddles. Does that sound like a plan?” He bargains, sitting you on the counter right in front of him as promised and sorted out your medicine as quickly as humanly possible. Your bottom lip juts out in a pout when Bradley brings the spoon of medicine towards your mouth, and you shake your head fervently in protest.

“Yucky.” You state, glaring at the spoon in front of you as Bradley shakes his head with a soft laugh. Oh, if Carole and Goose could see him now, they’d be laughing their heads off. Carole always told Bradley that when he was younger and he got ill, he’d be an absolute menace when it came to taking his medicine so much so that his parents had to tag team in order to get him to take it. It was clear you inherited your hatred of medicine from your father.

“I know. But it’ll make you feel so much better.” Bradley says, watching as you consider his words before looking back up at him.

“Promise?” You ask, beginning to trust your dad but needing the promise to solidify your choice.

“I promise, sweetheart. Now come on. Open wide, this plane’s gotta land somewhere.” Bradley then says, miming as if the spoon was one of the jets he flew and ‘flew’ it towards your mouth, even mimicking the sounds of the engine as you giggle before taking the medicine once it reaches you. Once you’ve swallowed the medicine, Bradley puts everything away and scoops you up once more in his arms.

“There we go. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Bradley questions with a grin as he bounces you on his hip slightly, eliciting a laugh from you that was quickly replaced by a cough.

“Okay, let’s get some rest, shall we? Do you want to lie on the sofa and watch a movie?” Bradley then asks, getting a nod from you as you wind your arms around his neck and snuggle closer. Bradley heads downstairs with you in his arms, first making a trip to the kitchen to fill a bottle with water for you and grabbing a few snacks before heading into the living room. Jokingly groaning as he eases himself to sit down after putting the bottle and snacks down on the coffee table. He lies across the sofa with you atop his chest and he pulls the blanket that sat on the sofa across the two of you tucking it around you more than himself.

“I wanna watch Lilo and Stitch please.” You request, snuggling as close as humanly possible while Bradley nods, finding the movie and hitting play before he wrapped his arms around you to give you the cuddles, he bragged had healing qualities. You barely made it half an hour into the movie before dropping off to sleep. Bradley looked down at you to check on you and smiled softly to himself. He knew from the second he laid down with you that it was just a matter of minutes before you’d fall asleep. You hadn’t slept well through the night before, and he knew the medicine could cause drowsiness. Bradley wanted you to get more sleep so he remains still so you can get the rest you need. He carefully placed the back of his hand against your forehead and was glad to discover your temperature had gone down since he last checked. Bradley then pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, running a gentle hand up and down your back as he allowed his own eyes to slip shut so he could join you in sleep.

Sick days weren’t fun for anyone. But with a dad like Bradley, you knew you were in the best possible hands.

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x daughter!reader #rooster #rooster x reader #rooster x daughter!reader #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x daughter!reader #x daughter!reader

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soft--dragon · 8 months

Text

Taking A Break

Words: 1,794

Warnings: None

This is my first Supernatural fic!! I started the show a few months ago and I'm on season 15 now (lord help me) Hope you guys enjoy <3

This is all entirely platonic, I do not ship wincest. Do not tag it as such. Wincest shippers do NOT interact with this post.

This was inspired by this absolutely adorable fanart by @carrie-tate . Go show her some love!! His work is incredible :D

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

Now, Sam wanted to go on record to say that he was grateful for Dean being his big brother. He had looked up to him ever since he was a kid, trying to be just like Dean - having a strong heart and an even stronger sense of loyalty. Where their dad had failed in their youth, Dean had picked up the shattered pieces left behind and made Sam's childhood as good as it could be. He'd sacrificed everything for Sam, and he'd do it again in a heartbeat. Hell, Dean had practically said those words himself.

Sam was lucky to have Dean. He knew that.

However, right now, he really, really wanted to be anywhere but stuck in a motel room with his big brother.

“Stay away from me, you dick!”

“C’mon Sammy, you can’t seriously still be ticklish can you?”

“I said stay away!”

Sam’s face was split into a wide, nervous grin, shifting his weight from foot to foot on his side of the dining table the motel room had. Dean was almost entirely leaning over the damn thing, a toothy smile on his face with that same spark in his eyes Sam had often seen when they were kids. He honestly didn’t know what spurred Dean into such a playful mood, and he knew what was surely coming along with it.

“We were in the middle of researching!” protests Sam, trying to divert Dean’s attention to the more important task of hunting the latest creature of carnage.

Dean merely scoffs. “Nope. You were researching and acting like you had a stick up your ass, I’m simply helping you balance work and living.”

“The work kinda is our life, Dean-”

“And there you go again.” Dean sighs impatiently. “Could you liven up at least a little? The motel room feels even sadder than usual when you get broody.”

Dean suddenly lunged around the table and advertently kicked Sam’s fight or flight into overdrive, a rather undignified squawk leaving the younger man’s mouth in fear of the speed his brother tore around the furniture. He bolted around the table to stop at the opposite side, mirroring his brother, who was grinning even wider.

“Stohop!” Sam pleads, a breathless laugh weaseling into his words and only egging Dean on more.

“Why? You’re laughing, aren’t you? That’s good!”

“Dean, I am going to kill you,” Sam swears, trying to look serious - but with his anticipatory smile and bright eyes, it was difficult to seem threatening.

Dean snorts. “Uh-huh, sure.”

Then, with the engrained speed of a trained hunter, Dean fakes out a fast step to the right and causes Sam to take off to the left around the table - straight into Dean’s awaiting trap. Realising his error immediately, Sam yelps and tries to backpedal in a panic, but Dean leaps forward and wrestles him onto the carpet before he can even hope to escape.

“Goddamnit!”

Sam’s outraged shout only made Dean laugh harder. “You gotta stop falling for that, Sammy,” he comments playfully, grabbing his little brother’s swinging arm and forcing it to the floor. In a split second, Sam’s yells of annoyance morphed into fast-paced pleads as he registered being pinned.

“No- no, Dean, listen- I’ll take a break, okay? I’ve been a stick in the mud, and whatever else you think. We’ll go out and get a drink somewhere. Sound good? Great. Fantastic. Now lemme up.”

Dean smirks in amusement as Sam bargained like a crossroads demon desperate to get a sale - paired with a nervous grin and hands held up in defense. As he pauses to take a breath between his rambled offers, Dean hums, effectively making Sam stop short.

“Tempting offer, but I think we'll both be entertained by this, bud.”

With the hand not holding his brother's wrist captive, he starts to poke along Sam's midriff, grinning when his younger sibling flinches away from it with a strangled noise.

"Dean!"

"Mhm?" Dean hums innocently, delighting in every involuntary jerk and muffled squeak Sam gave at the light prodding.

"Cut it out." Sam hisses through tightly pressed lips, eyes crinkling with his wobbly grin as he fruitlessly tried to avoid Dean's probing fingers.

Dean almost looked offended. "Cut it out? Dude, I haven't done this to you in years. Let a big brother be nostalgic."

Then, without any warning, he quickly squeezed at Sam’s sides, causing a shrill yelp to suddenly pierce the air. Sam dissolves into fits of laughter instantly, wriggling on the carpet in his mirth from childhood instinct.

“Aaaa~nd there it is," Dean snorts, his unforgiving nails digging into Sam's side and delighting in the familiar hiccuping giggles pouring from his brother's mouth. Even after all these years, his laugh hadn't changed a bit. "Always gonna be a little brother."

Sam's legs flailed wildly, shoes scuffing the floor in a repetitive motion to not kick Dean in the back. Though it was growing tempting the longer his big brother kept scratching at his damn sides.

"Dehehehean!" He protests through tumbling laughter, pressing an arm against Dean's chest to shove him away, but he hadn't grown out of his childhood habits. His strength was being sapped by the tingling sensation plaguing his body.

Dean notices and chuckles fondly. "What? Got something you wanna say, little brother?"

"Ihihim twehehenty fohohour!"

"And yet here you are on the floor giggling like a child. Something doesn't add up here, Sammy."

While his hand journeyed to squeeze up and down Sam's ribs, causing the man to be honest-to-god squeak in laughter, Dean got a rather mean idea. He lifts his hand above Sam, wiggling his fingers, and instantly, Sam curls into himself with wide eyes. The hand pressed against Dean's chest swiped out to snatch up the older man's wrist.

"Nonononono- nohoho Dehehean!" He pleads, his bright laughter unbridled in a way Dean hadn't heard in far too long. "Nohohot thahat!"

"Aww, why not? You loved this growing up."

Sam's face burns with warmth, suddenly glad he was already flushed from laughing, because he knew Dean wouldn't let him live that reaction down. "Ihihi dihidn't!"

"Liar, liar, Wendigo on fire," Dean scoffs, prodding Sam's stomach with his free hand and smirking as the man did his best impression of a folding chair, his giggles melding with snorts. With little difficulty, he tugs his wrist from Sam's grip and returns to the wiggling motion above his little brother.

Sam's nervous giggles increased as Dean kept his hand suspended, watching with wary eyes as it seemed to circle above like a vulture. Though, with Sam's eyes locked to the overhead threat, he didn't see the second wave coming until there was a sudden flurry of feather light touches ghosting over his neck.

"W-Wahahait! Crahahahap!" Sam squeaks helplessly, shoulders rocketing to his ears to block Dean's fingers from tormenting the soft spot. It had been a favorite of Jessica's when she wanted to mess with him - a delicate kiss or soft fingernails were enough to make him fold into himself in seconds. It was something she had used against him constantly when they were dating.

"Dehean!" Sam whines, pressing his head against his shoulders alternatively when his older brother starts targeting his ears.

Dean's heart melted slightly at Sam's childish noises, his smirk slipping into a fond grin without him realising. "Did you get more ticklish since you left for Stanford?" he asks, half teasing - half genuinely curious as he sneaked a few fingers into the gaps of Sam's top ribs, dangerously close to his underarms that were ridiculously sensitive.

Sam instantly jack-knifed in reflex, an embarrassing yelp pulling from his throat as he tried to protect his infamous soft spot. "Nohot thehere, Dehehehean! Uhuncle!" He cries out, half rolling onto his side and swatting at Dean's hands that place gentle pokes up and down his ribcage. As much as he was enjoying messing around with Dean, he wasn't sure he could handle that spot being tormented.

Thankfully, Dean hears the weary notes in Sam's voice from laughing so much. He chuckles fondly and pulls his hands away from the sensitive skin, observing his little brother, who is becoming one with the floor. The younger man gulps air into his worn-out body, holding his stomach that was slightly aching from laughter.

"J-Jesus," he gasps, wiping at his eyes that had gathered moisture from mirth. "That was brutal."

"Be grateful I didn't actually go for your worst spots," Dean snickers, "think we would've got a noise complaint with your screaming."

Sam kicks Dean's shin with his signature 'resting bitch face', but the lingering smile on his lips took away the effect. "Jerk," he grumbles.

"Bitch," Dean says right back with a warm grin.

He starts to get up from his crouched position on the floor, when Sam suddenly grabs his arms and yanks him straight back down, rolling Dean onto his back smoothly with practiced form. Dean's grunt of alarm was cut off by his own high-pitched shriek as it felt like electricity bolted through his hips.

"Don't think I've forgotten about your weakness too, Dean," Sam laughed, his thumbs making quick work in reducing Dean to nothing but a ball of loud laughter.

"Y-YOHOU DIHICKHEHEAD!" Dean yells out through hearty laughter, twisting on the floor for escape, but Sam wasn't giving him an out. He'd forgotten how quickly Sam could recover from these attacks.

"Sure, I'm the dickhead for getting revenge on you when you attacked me first," Sam rolls his eyes, then shifts his thumbs to massage along the tops of Dean’s hip bones. The older man throws his head back with a screech that could raise the dead, kicking his legs out and arms desperately trying to shove Sam away.

“Christ, Dean, you're the one that's gonna get us the noise complaint if you keep that up,” Sam snickers, yet he didn’t shift from that little bundle of nerves that was making Dean shriek with laughter.

Dean couldn’t formulate a snappy comeback. Instead, he just smacked Sam wherever he could reach in retaliation. Was it a well-thought-out counterattack? No, absolutely not, but it was better than doing nothing.

The motel room was filled with Dean's bright laughter for a good while, after all Sam had a retaliation mission to complete and years' worth of revenge to cash in. Though Dean didn't make it easy for him, managing to reverse their roles a few times throughout the ordeal - knowing how to take Sam down from growing up together.

The research lay abandoned on the table for the rest of the afternoon, ignored by the brothers duking it out - curses and laughter thrown around the room. The monster of the week could wait a little while longer. The boys deserved the break.

#lee!sam winchester #ler!dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester #not wincest #wincest dni #supernatural tickle #spn #supernatural #my fanfic

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tvrningout-a · 1 year

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the rollercoaster i just went on MY GOSH like yes i'm happy and hyped as heck!! and it's got the gears in my head turning!! but man i might fight gege with my bare hands

#bel reads jjk #don't read the tags if you don't want spoilers -- i'll try to be vague about some of what i'm talking about just in case but #this is your warning!! to stop reading!!!#okay......... alright #i'm very happy to see a certain character bc i've been waiting for a silver lining!! to all this mess!!!#but i'm >:(((((((( about some deaths >:(((((((((#which is what i was afraid of though i will say the deaths didn't reduce me to tears like kny did #but i'm mad and i know it's 'realistic' and makes sense bc there's all these powerhouses coming together #but that doesn't mean i gotta like some of the decisions gege made as far as choosing who lives and dies #i do like the bit of development we got for noritoshi and maki and choso though uvu #honestly the minute the sumo and katana guys appeared i knew it was gonna be a fun chapter :' )))#i've really enjoyed a lot of the side characters gege's thrown at us during the culling games and i'll be sad if they gotta go #and that's all i'll say for now bc i already said a bunch asdf #now i just need to think about miyuna and tsugumi's reactions to everything and what they'd even be doing #time to finally make a verse for the culling games arc i suppose!#oh my gosh chiyo too........ oh no ASDFG #anyway excuse me--#get ready to ramble | ooc

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saruman-the-silly · 9 months

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Let me help

tags: phantom x gn!reader, hurt/comfort kind of, maybe angst? idk wanted to write something short but it got a bit longer so anyway yea :D at first a I had no clue of what Quintessence ghouls were so I googled something and I hope I got the powers right, if not, then that's on me my bad lol

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He was in so much pain. The burning had begun so suddenly, and it wasn't stopping. Why was this happening?

"PHANTOM!" He could hear some distant yelling- who was that? The voice seemed so familiar, but strange in so many ways. The burning sensation was spreading all over him and his fingertips started to tingle. It was starting to consume him, to swallow him whole until- he was pulled down abruptly, falling on to the hard and cold stone floor.

"PHANTOM, oh god, oh nononono this isn't good this is so not good- why didn't anybody prepare me for this what is going on-" Phantom, he remembered his name suddenly, groaned in pain and rolled to his side to look at you, his angel, panicking beside him. He squinted, and studied your beautiful face for a moment.

"Now hold on a minute, what just happened? I only remember trying to walk to the gardens." You smiled at him tearily, and cupped his cheek. "I thought you were gonna rip yourself in half, you idiot." You sniffled, getting him up.

"Maybe next time don't try teleporting in such a weak state, you dummy."

Phantom looked confused for a second- oh yeah, he had barely slept 3 hours last night after coming home from the tour, and yes, he did try to teleport to the gardens where he said he would meet you.

"Ah, well, yeah, that coul be the reason for it," He winced in pain, now suddenly feeling the burns over his body. You frowned, and started to walk back to your rooms, holding him upright.

"You do actually know the consequense if you exhaust yourself and go around using your powers? It's not gonna be pretty, I've heard some stories of what happened to the other ghouls after exhausting themselves and trying to use their powers." You opened the door to your room, leading Phantom in to sit on your bed. He groaned in pain when he sat down, the pain only just now fully getting to him.

"I'm sorry doll, I just wanted to see you and I thought hey, why not teleport because I hadn't just seen you in what, 3 months-" Phantom started to ramble, but you shushed him while gently smiling. You cupped his cheek, and he sighed, leaning into your touch. You leaned down, and kissed his forehead, then his cheeks before looking at his eyes.

"I missed you too. But you just need to be a little more careful, okay? I don't want you to rip yourself in half, just because you're excited to see me, darling." Phantom smiled a bit sheepishly at that, and brought your face closer to kiss you gently. "I promise I won't try to teleport again when I'm so exhausted."

"Great! Now, off with the shirt pretty boy, gotta treat those burns." He laughed, and removed his shirt. You got some ointment, and gently started applying it. Phantom shivered at the contact, and you grinned. "Cold?"

He laughed, and replied. "A little." You hummed, and applied the ointment to the worst burns. Not that you needed to do a lot actually, Phantom usually healed pretty quickly even without help, but the worst burns would leave a scar if not treated.

After you had finished, you offered him a glass of water, which he gladly drank. He flopped back down on the bed, and you laid down beside him. Both of you were quiet, just listening to each other breathe. Phantom looked to be deep in though, and when you were about to ask what's up, he opened his mouth.

"Do you ever feel like you've just not found your place?" You propped yourself on your elbows to look at him.

"Well, not really no. Why?" He sighed, and kept looking at the ceiling.

"I just feel sometimes like I'm just wandering around, trying to find a place where I truly belong. Since my summoning I've tried so hard to fit in, and yeah, I have, but, I don't know why this feeling still follows me everywhere." Phantom turned to look at you, with an unsure expression on his face. You studied his face for a moment, before replying.

"You do know that what you're feeling is super okay?" He smiled and replied: "Yeah I know, it's just a bit weird sometimes since I'm relatively new around here." You took his hand, and rubbed it comfortingly.

"Yeah, but you know, I was at first very out of place here. I felt like I was just floating through everything, and not really finding a place or people that would help me be, yknow, me?" Phantom nodded, listening.

"At first, it was awful, since I'm not good with new people or with a new, weird situation. But after settling down, I started to find things that made the whole process more fun, like you and all the other ghouls.

So what I'm trying to say here, it can be tough to find your own place in the world, and the road there can be rocky and difficult, but you will find it. I'll be there to help you find your way." Phantom smiled at that, and gently brushed a hair out of your face.

"Thank you, angel." He whispered, before gently pressing his lips to yours.

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here it iis, I'm back and alive muahahaha writer's block - 0, saruman the silly - 1

wanted to write something a little comforting, and finished this on my phone lol so sorry for any mistakes, I'll check them later

anyway love you all and thanks for reading <3

#the band ghost #ghost band #ghost the band #ghost bc #nameless ghouls x reader #nameless ghoul #nameless ghouls #namelessghoulettes #phantom ghoul #phantom ghost #ghost band fanfiction #ghost ghouls #the band ghost fanfiction #the ghost band

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ellie-24 · 11 months

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USS Randall Ramblers Part 3

Okay, this is the 2 in 1 deal everyone's been looking forward to not!

Writing prompts:

"Are you always this shy?"

"You're staring."

Tagging my partners in crime. @vintageshanny @from-memphis-with-love @thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @powerofelvis @be-my-ally thank you for the support, the debates, the inspiration and the horniness.

Summary: Phone calls aren't enough. These two just can't stay apart for too long.

Word count: ~ 5.5 k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Frankfurt am Main, Germany

"Talk to me, honey, whatcha do today?"

His smooth, velvety voice instantly made Mary shiver and she had to supress a childish giggle. She tightly gripped the phone and caught her reflection in the full length mirror on the other side of the bedroom, seeing herself blushing furiously and smiling. With a sigh she sank further into the matress and slowly twirled the cord in her slightly trembling fingers.

"Actually, I should be asleep already." She grinned teasingly, even though he couldn't see it.

"Aww, Come on, tell me something nice. Please. You know I can't go to bed without talking to you." He mumbled with a pleading tone. Mary could almost picture the famous pout he was probably sporting right now.

She raised her eyebrow. It's been almost four weeks since her visit to Bad Nauheim. It was then that he told her that he would be stationed at Grafenwöhr for the next six weeks, putting him even further out of her reach. But he'd call her every day. That's at least what he promised upon seeing the distressed look on her face. And he actually kept his promise.

For 4 days.

After that, his calls became less frequent. Mary didn't want to admit it to herself, but hearing his voice three or four times a week instead of every day didn't feel enough. It scared her a bit. She was falling way too fast for him and the mere thought of his calls possibly ceasing completely one day made her heart ache terribly.

That's why she sat by the phone on her nightstand every evening, waiting for him to call and ease some of the anxiety she felt. She'd stare at her phone for hours, eyes burning and heavy, stifling yawn after yawn. On some occasions Mary felt kind of pathetic, especially when she'd pass out from exhaustion while sitting up against the headboard, drool already gathering at the corner of her mouth. Oftentimes he'd call her when she was already fast asleep anyway, usually around midnight. The sharp ringing would pull her out of her dreams, which mostly revolved around him anyway, causing her to be wide awake in an instant.

If it was up to him, they'd probably talk to each other throughout the whole night. Sometimes he'd ramble on and on for hours as if he had no one else to talk to and sometimes he just wanted to listen to her talking about her day, family drama or the latest gossip at work. She found that gossiping was rather fun with him because he actually paid attention, unlike other men she's talked to.

"Well alright, you know it's Barbara's birthday on friday." She reminded him.

"Didn't you want to organize a little party at the office?"

"Yeah, scratch that, probably not gonna be a real party, but I really want to get a cake. I asked the other girls if we want to split the cost for a really fancy cake. You know with layers and frosting and decoration and the whole shebang. Now, guess who had a problem with that."

"If you ask like that, sweetheart, it's gotta be Kate." He chuckled.

Mary threw her hands up in frustration. "Of course it was her! Anyway I met up with Helga in my lunch break and her uncle owns this cute, little bakery and he'd probably do it for half the price... Hopefully Kate will be on board with that."

"Honey, just tell me, I'll pay for the damn cake."

"You don't even know Barbara!" She laughed.

"I-I know, but it means something to you." He clarified in a soft voice.

Mary pressed her lips together to stop the embarassing squeal that threatened to espace her and tightly held the phone against her chest. After taking a deep breath she put it back against her ear. "You're so sweet."

"I'm just trying to help my little girl."

Her cheeks started to hurt from smiling so much. "And I appreciate it... I'll let you know what Kate says."

"Alright, sweetheart. What else did ya do today? Wanna know everything."

"Not much I'm afraid. After work I just went straight home. It's so cold, being outside really isn't fun."

"Yeah, you tell me. This damn cold here is driving me crazy."

"And then it also started raining when I walked home from the bus station. I was soaking wet when I arrived. Fingers numb and everything." Mary continued and flexed her hand as if proving to herself that, yes, she could really move it again.

She heard him click his tongue. "Aw, my poor yittle baby. You all bundled up in your blankets now? All warm and cozy?"

Mary pulled the soft fabric up to her chin. "I am."

"And you're wearing your fuzzy little socks? Don't want your sooties to be freezing."

"Yes, Elvis. I'm all warm again, don't worry." She chuckled and watched the raindrops race down the glass window next to her.

When he spoke up again, his voice sounded clearer, as if he put the phone closer to his face. "I-I wish I was there with you sweetheart, sharing a blanket, just like on that ship. Remember? With you running your fingers through my hair." It sounded like he was smiling.

She smiled as well and bit her lip, the memory still very clear in her mind. If she closed her eyes she could still feel his soft hair on her skin. "And your cold hands nearly giving me a heart attack. But yeah I'd really like that. You're a lot comfier than my pillow."

He cooed. "You're such a cute thing. The bunk beds they have here can give ya a mighty back pain, I'll tell ya. Getting some real sleep is a damn hassle."

She sighed and her face scrunched up. "Oh, I know, I shouldn't complain. They make you sleep in these horrible beds and then they want you to walk miles and miles through that mud and I don't know what. Without getting some proper rest!"

He hummed. "And it snowed the other day. You won't believe it. We were knee deep in the snow. The vehicles nearly got stuck, and there were these stupid photographers everywhere, trying to get a glimpse. I looked like a damn idiot."

"Elvis don't say that. What are you supposed to do? And I think it's very brave of you to carry on and do your job, despite everything. And damn these photographers, I'd like to see them do what you gotta do, first."

"Language, yittle. Doesn't suit ya."

"Elvis, don't, you're starting to sound like my mother." She laughed.

He sighed. "One of us has to be the responsible adult."

"A responsible adult? Where? I can't see one."

"Very funny, sweetheart."

She shrugged. "I know. One of us has to be the funny one."

"I'll tell ya if there weren't hundreds of miles seperating us, I'd put ya over my knee now, little girl."

Mary's eyes went wide and she nearly pulled her blanket over her head, as if hiding would improve her situation. "Elvis!" She finally gasped.

"Where's that smart mouth now?" He teased.

She tucked a few locks that had fallen over eyes behind her ear. "I'm just trying to cheer you up with that smart mouth."

He snorted. "Getting on my last nerve sometimes, that's what you do, sweetheart."

She knew he was pulling her leg but she couldn't stop the words that followed. It was just too easy to mess with him sometimes. "Well, then I suppose you should just stop calling me."

There was a pause. "Now, you know damn well I could never do that."

She hummed.

He took a deep breath. "Talking to you is what gets me through all this." His voice got lower, almost like a whisper, which made it hard for her to understand him. "Honey, I'm already dreading tomorrow, ya can't imagine."

Mary squeezed her eyes shut as if actually feeling his sudden anguish just through his voice. She didn't even want to imagine the look on his face right now. Whenever reality would set in, it overwhelmed him in an instant. She never really knew how to respond to his complex and seemingly all-encompassing emotional turmoil. "Oh Elvis, I wish I could help you somehow." She mumbled helplessly.

His voice trembled. "...Cherry, I-I gotta see you. I-It's so horrible here, please I have to see you."

Mary still wasn't sure what to make out of the fact that Elvis sometimes nicknamed her after his dog of all things, but she tried to believe that this was just his very unique, strange way of showing affection.

"Elvis... you know I'd love to visit you. But I can't ask my mum to come with me again."

"I-I know, sweetheart. But they won't let me leave. I can't come over." He paused for a second. "I just... I miss you."

She took a shuddering breath. "I miss you too. Terribly."

He groaned and there was a low thud, which made her jump slightly. It sounded like he hit the phone against a wall or something. When he spoke up again his voice sounded strained. "Let me talk to your father, yittle. I need to see you. Y-You can stay at this inn, my father stayed there as well when he visited. The owner, she's a sweet older lady, she'll take care of ya."

Mary pursed her lips. "Well, I guess you can try. I'll also make sure to use my pout on him. Do you think it'll work out?"

"Trust me. I'll make it happen... Love you."

There it was again. He started saying it a few days ago, their phone call now always ending with the same sentiment. Mary wasn't too sure what to make of it. She always told her friends that she loved them. Was this the same thing? It certainly didn't feel the same, the butterflies in her stomach and the lightheadedness she would feel whenever he'd utter those three special words were proof of that. But what exactly did he mean by it? Mary didn't know if she would call it real love yet. Of course she deeply cared for him, but love seemed to be something for grown-ups. Something that she still felt too young for.

"Love you too." She'd still always reply, both out of a weird sense of obligation but also because it did reflect her feelings towards him and she wanted him to know.

He'd always let out a pleased hum before hanging up.

Grafenwöhr, Oberpfalz. One week later.

Mary looked around tentitavely. Everything here seemed to be made out of wood. She tried not too make much noise while walking around, the floorboards creaking with every step she took. The chairs and tables looked carefully crafted, albeit a bit used and discoloured in places. Mary raised an eyebrow when she looked over at the counter at the other side of the room, with various kinds of liquors stacked onto the shelves behind it. All in all this place seemed to be a bar rather than an inn but she quickly decided that she didn't care. Right now she seemed to be the only one here, except for a few faint voices that could be heard from behind the heavy, wooden door next to the counter. Mary pondered what she should do while carefully inspecting the crochet tablecloth in front of her. She even briefly wondered if she was at the right address.

"There she is! My sweet girl." His voice suddenly boomed behind her. With a jump she quickly turned and saw Elvis beaming at her as he approached, determination in his stride. In an instant she felt his arms around her, a feeling that seemed to be almost familiar by now. She leaned against him and hugged him back, her arms around his neck in a tight grip. She pulled him even closer, happy that she could actually feel him again, and he laughed.

When they parted again he smiled down at her, his eyes wandering towards her lips. Mary felt her heartbeat picking up rapidly when he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers in another short, yet incredibly sweet, kiss. She looked at up him, eyes wide open, her cheeks red.

He softly caressed her waist. "Little Cherry came here all alone just to see me. She's best. Been on my mind the whole day now."

She reached up and rubbed her hands over his hard chest with a smile. "It's so good to see you again."

Suddenly the door behind them opened and a kind looking, middle aged woman wearing an apron appeared. She threw a towel over shoulder, her gaze flickering towards Elvis, then her.

Upon seeing the curious look on her face he stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Ma'am, this is Mary. She's my guest."

Her face lit up. "Oh, you're Mary. I am Frau Feiner. It's lovely to have you here. I hope you'll like it, if you need anything just ask me."

"Thank you, that's very kind." Mary nodded with a smile and looked back at Elvis. He guided her towards a nearby table and promptly plopped down onto the wooden chair. Without warning he pulled her onto his lap and gently patted her stomach with a grin. "Come on, sweetheart, ya gotta eat something. Mrs. Feiner here makes the best Schnitzel. Ain't that right?" He hollered over to Mrs. Feiner who was still busy wiping the counter.

"That's true." She replied with a wink and disappeared through the same door she'd come from before.

"That sounds great, now we only need some Schlager music to round it off." Mary joked, eyeing the old jukebox in the corner of the room.

He snorted. "Ya really listen to that?"

"Helga sometimes makes me. It's not that bad actually. But I still prefer that other guy. That rock 'n' roll singer. You know the one we talked about before?"

"The one who's been on TV and everything?"

"Yeah, that's the one!"

"Mhm. You talk a whole lot about him, honey, makes me wonder if I should feel jealous."

His strong arms pulled her closer to him, so that she was now fully leaning against him. He winced a bit at his own action and squeezed his eyes shut with a shake of his head. Mary furrowed her brows and reached out to gently stroke his hair, just how he liked it. "What is it? You're not feeling well?"

He closed his eyes and leaned into her soft touch. "Just a bit tired, honey. And a bit of a headache. Spend the whole day at the Czech border, patrolling."

Her frown deepened. "Oh no, I hope they didn't give too much of a hard time."

"Honey, the thing is I constantly feel like I-I gotta prove my worth or something. Everyone in the Army still thinks I'm a damn joke."

She shook her head. "I only hear good things about you, Elvis. Part of the reason why my father allowed me to come here on my own is because he trusts you to take care of me. Word gets around you're doing a great job serving your country."

"Definitely don't feel like it."

"My father told me he heard that you're always the first one to volunteer if there's a difficult task ahead. Always doing way more than what's asked of you."

He threw up his hands. "That's because I'm trying to do everything in my power to show them that I'm worth my salt. Gotta work ten times harder than any other G.I.!"

She carefully patted his chest, playing with the breast pocket of his jacket. "I know, it's not fair. But it's paying off, believe me. You should be proud of yourself."

He looked down at her fingers, avoiding her gaze. "Don't know."

Mary reached up to cup his chin, forcing him to look at her. "I'll get you there. I'm certainly proud of you."

He furrowed his brows and his eyes briefly welled up before he managed to catch himself again. It seemed like he wanted to say something, his mouth opened and closed multiple time before he swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He watched her intently for a moment before a half smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "S' good that you're here now. It's balm for the soul I'll tell ya. I already feel so much better. It's like magic." He mumbled and pressed his cheek against hers.

She giggled. "I'm no wizard, Elvis."

"Are you sure?"

She gave herself a once-over. "Last time I checked I wasn't, no."

"Maybe a little fairy then. Far more fitting. Look-wise, I mean. Although-"

"Careful, Presley." She warned jokingly and jabbed a finger against his chest, making him chuckle.

Ms. Feiner then approached them, two plates in her hands and swiftly set them down on the table with a sweet "Enjoy!" before making her way back again. Mary gave him another look and quickly kissed his cheek before sliding out of his lap onto the chair next to him. He playfully narrowed his eyes at her and pulled her chair towards him, making sure their legs were touching under the table. With a giggle she quickly started eating, feeling rather hungry because her nerves had made her skip lunch that day.

"You wanna go to the movie theatre at the base later? I'll invite some friends so I can show you off and then we'll have a nice evening, what do you think?" He asked and gently nudged her with his shoulder.

She slowly blinked at him. Actually she'd hoped to spend the evening alone with him, but the prospect of being 'shown off' sounded intriguing as well. "Uh, sure why not? Sounds fun."

He smiled at her, his mouth full and swalllwed. "Okay sweetheart, then you'll get all fixed up and I'll have someone pick you up in an hour alright? Mrs. Feiner will show you the guest room upstairs and she'll take care of ya, okay?" He lifted his fork to his mouth. "Damn, that's good." He mumbled to himself as if he hasn't eaten in years. After they both finished their plates, when Elvis finished his third portion anyway, he briefly pecked her lips again before heading off to the base again.

Mrs. Feiner took her updtairs and she quickly settled into the small guest room. She decided to call her parents to let them know that everything went well, or she'd never hear the end of it. After that she tried to calm her sudden nerves again. How would Elvis introduce her to of his friends? Who even were they? Fellow soldiers? She just hoped they'd be nice as she combed her hair, her gaze transfixed on the thin layer of snow still covering the window sill.

When she arrived at the training area about an hour later she spotted Elvis standing at the entrance of the movie theatre, along with another man and a small, brunette woman. The enthusiastic smile on Mary's face quickly died when she saw Elvis reaching out to stroke the strange girl's cheek and leaned over to softly kiss her cheek. Mary halted in her tracks, nearly stumbling over her own feet. She couldn't stop the burning feeling of jealousy coursing through her veins at the sight of him being affectionate with another woman. He had a reputation of always being very loving and warm in his interactions with the women in his life, his fans, that's at least what she knew from magazines and his many apperances on TV. But this... seemed more intimate. She didn't like it.

"Come here, Mary!" Elvis shouted and gestured around wildly. The deep breath she took formed a small, misty cloud around her face and she slowly walked towards them, careful not to slip on the frozen cobblestone ground. She tried to ignore the knot in her stomach as her eyes flickered between Elvis and the woman next to him. When she was within reach Elvis grasped her hand and turned back towards his friends. "That's her. Isn't she the cutest thing y'all ever saw?"

"Hello, I'm Elisabeth, it's so nice to meet you!" The brunette spoke up with a polite smile and a light German accent.

Mary tried to force a sweet smile as she shook her hand.

"Mary." She curtly introduced herself. The girl seemed to be nice, at least she made an effort, but Mary just couldn't bring herself to like her, no matter how hard she tried to ignore her personal feelings. She wondered if she was acting childish and tried to control the creeping feeling that maybe she did take her and Elvis' relationship more seriously that he did. Even though this was only their third time meeting each other she knew that no one ever made her feel the way he did and she was certain that no one else ever would. Her thoughts started to spiral for a horrible, incredibly long second before the other man spoke up and held out his hand as well.

"Rex, pleased to meet you."

Mary didn't look at him, her gaze fixated on the stoneground beneath her as she tried to control the chaos in her head. Elvis put his arm around her shoulders with a smile, his body pressing into hers. The feeling of his solid strength so close to her made her feel both grounded and erratic at the same time.

"Are you always this shy, Mary?" Rex inquired with a gentle smile after a few seconds of her refusing to look at him. She then absentmindedly shook his hand before it would get even more awkward.

Elvis let out a little chuckle, his body vibrating against hers. The feeling finally pulled her out of her wicked thoughts. She cleared her throat and tentitavely hugged Elvis as well, her hand gliding over his back. "Well, it's not often that you go out with a world famous celebrity, is it?" She offered and tried to look flustered instead of hurt and confused. With a flick of her wrist she carefully squeezed his side, making him jump slightly.

Elisabeth briefly touched her arm. "Don't be nervous, Mary. He's a nice man. And I should know, we're here together almost every evening." She replied with a genuine, kind smile that was probably meant to calm her.

"Is that so?" she asked and looked up at Elvis, whose face betrayed nothing, a stiff mask displaying nothing but utter neutrality. "Well then there is nothing to worry about I suppose." Mary quipped and leaned further into him.

The four of them made their way inside with Elisabeth and Rex happily chattering and leading the way. Mary barely managed to pay attention to the conversation, but politely nodded along every now and then as Elisabeth kindly linked her arms with hers and pulled her aside a bit, telling her about her stepfather being a sergeant in the Army and how he and her German mother met and got married. Elisabeth then proceeded to share the story of how she and Elvis met at this very movie theatre only a few days ago. Mary kept looking over to him, now apparently deep in a conversation with Rex. When he caught her eye he winked at her and she quickly averted her gaze again.

The auditorium was small and practical, nothing fancy, with seats that didn't look too comfortable and bare, grey walls. "I wanna sit in the back." Elvis announced and leaned in closer to Mary. "What about you, Cherry?" He whispered into her ear about a second later.

"I don't care." She replied, her expression indifferent.

He briefly frowned at her in confusion.

Elisabeth then gestured towards the seats next to her. "What about here?"

Rex nodded and Mary looked at Elvis.

"Come on then, honey." Elvis chimed in and pulled her along with him, towards the back. She turned her head and saw Elisabeth and Rex shrugging at each other as they went to sit down. Well at least she would be alone with him now, she thought as she eyes the last row where no one had sat down yet. Shortly after her and Elvis sat down, she felt him watching her intently, trying to figure out her why she's been acting so strange ever since entering the movie theatre. He was interrupted by a small group of soldiers approaching them, seemingly wanting to sit down next to them.

"Go on, get your own row, damnit!" Elvis shouted over to them, making them look at each other and shuffle away quickly.

He then let out a content sigh and put one arm around her, his hand resting at her neck. He gently smiled down at her and briefly kissed her temple. His soft, tender touches almost made her forget his earlier interaction with the German girl he apparently saw almost every evening. She still felt his gaze burning into her profile and shifted in her seat. He didn't even try to make it subtle, facing her shamlessly instead of the screen. Mary focused on keeping her breathing even and tried to act as normal as possible but despite her best efforts her head eventually turned towards him on it's own. Instead of feeling caught and looking away his eyes lit up and leaned in closer to gently bump his nose against hers.

"You're staring." She whispered.

"What, I'm not allowed to look at the prettiest girl in here?" He grinned.

She hummed, not quite believing what he said.

"What? I'm just saying how it is."

She leaned back and looked straight ahead again.

He cleared his throat. "You know, I can't help but feel like you're, uh, angry with me, honey."

"It's nothing."

His hand around her neck reached out to play with a strand of her hair, gently twirling it between his fingers. "Come on, sweetheart. You think I'm gonna fall for that? I already told ya I know everything there is to know about women."

"Really, it's nothing."

He clicked his tongue in frustration. "Stop being so stubborn. As much as I'd like to read your mind and see what's going on in that pretty little head of yours, I can't. Ya gotta help me a bit. Please, talk to me."

Mary bit her lip and looked away from him, thinking about how she should phrase what exactly bothered her. If she should tell him at all. His fingers now drew comforting circles on her arm and he was uncharacteristically patient while waiting for her to sort out her emotions. "...Alright, uh, I guess... First-" She held up a finger. "-you promised me that you'd call. Every day."

He opened his mouth.

She held up another finger, silencing him. "Second. You said 'no other girls'."

"There are no other girls, just you." He replied without hesitation.

Mary raised an eyebrow at him, her gaze flickering towards the brunette a few rows in front of them and then back to him. He lowered his face and looked at her through his lashes. "Now, don't gimme that look. Elisabeth... she's just a friend. A-And she happens to speak German, which is useful, I reckon. That's all, Cherry. Now, don't spoil the fun and be good, okay?"

She huffed. "I'm not trying to ruin the mood. And I don't want to tell you what you can and can't do. I'm not like that. Just..." She let out an exasperated sigh. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

He turned his body back towards her and gently cupped her cheek. "...A-Alright, I can see why you're mad at me. I-I get it now, trust me... I've neglected you too much. I'll make sure to take care of you more."

"Elvis, that's not-"

He lowered his head and moved to nuzzle his nose against her neck. "Mhm, that's what my widdle baby needs and what she deserves." He whispered, his hot breath ghosting over her exposed skin. It tickled her and she tightly gripped her skirt, the heavy fabric now bunched up in her fists.

"Elvis-"

He rested his chin on her shoulder. "Cherry, you're my best girl, I want you to know that."

Mary sighed and tried not to let her cheek sink into his soft hair. She failed. "...Is that true?"

He hummed and moved closer to her neck again. "S' the gospel truth, honey." With that she felt the feather light brush of his soft lips against her pulse point. She let out a small yelp when he continued peppering soft kisses along her now heated skin. He put one arm around her waist to pull her closer towards him. She could feel him grinning against her when she lifted her chin and angled her head away from him to give him easier access. While he licked, suckled and mouthed at her neck she quickly looked around the dimly lit room, relieved that no one seemed to pay attention to them. Mary had to press her legs together when his hand moved over her jaw, along her neck until it rested just below her clavicle. He could probably feel her heart beating wildly in her ribcage.

"Elvis." She whispered.

He let out a low grunt in response.

"Kiss me."

"I am." He murmured, his voice muffled.

With a playful click of her tongue she promptly moved away from him and his touch, making him whine as he tried to chase after her. She let out a small giggle at his confused face and leaned over to press her lips against his, her fingers brushing over his jaw. He laughed into the kiss before eagerly moving his mouth against hers. His hand grazed over her upper body, back to her clavicle before moving down further. Mary couldn't suppress a small groan when he attempted to slip his tongue inside her mouth and briefly squeezed her breast at the same time.

"You!" She gasped with a grin and gently tugged at his earlobe. He chuckled, his teeth clanking against hers, and boldly squeezed her breast once again. It sent shockwaves of pleasure directly into her lower belly and their lips quickly met again in an open mouthed, heated kiss. He put a hand on her knee and Mary shivered when he moved it higher and higher, fingers digging into her the supple flesh of her thigh. A small sound escaped from the back of his throat, adding to the throbbing sensation she felt. He was now dangerously close her core and just when she thought he'd touch her there and ease some of the ache, he pulled his lips away from her. When they parted they just looked at each other for a moment, both breathing heavily. His hand still soothingly rubbed over her thigh and she swallowed hard.

"All good again?" He asked with a grin, still a bit breathless.

She exhaled shakily. "Sorry, Elvis, it's just, uh, I don't know."

"Tell me, honey."

She shrugged and leaned forward to press her forehead against his. "I guess I don't know why you would want to spend time with me... I'm nothing special." She cringed at herself while saying it out loud, being openly vulnerable with others wasn't something she was particulary fond of. It's not that she didn't trust Elvis, she just preferred to deal with her emotions on her own.

He urgently hugged her closer to him. "Honey, no no no, don't say that. I don't wanna hear any of this nonsense. You have no idea how special you are to me. I-I can always talk to you a-and you never judge me. You're there when I need someone to take care of me."

"I guess." She mumbled, her eyes burning.

"You always cheer me up, honey. Lemme do the same for you now. I don't like seeing you sad. Wanna see that smile again."

She hummed and shrugged, not trusting her voice right now.

He gave her another kiss. This one was slow and sweet, his pillowy lips barely brushing against hers as he held her cheeks in his big, strong hands. Then he went on to pepper her whole face with small kisses until she couldn't stop the grin tugging at her lips. He stopped and gently ran his fingers through her hair and cupped the back of her head.

"There's that pretty smile I love so much." He mumbled.

She let out a watery laugh. "You really know how to make a girl feel good."

He bit his lip with a smile, his eyes twinkling. "Oh, my sweet Cherry, you have no idea."

Also tagging a few people who seemed to enjoy the first two parts. Please let me know if you don't want to be tagged! @godlypresley @18lkpeters @lookingforrainbows @richardslady121 @kingdomforapony @c-rosenn

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis fanfic #elvis x oc #elvis fanfiction #army elvis #50s elvis #writing prompt game #ellie writes

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bawltongue · 11 months

Text

ROOMMATES - Pt 2

(jonathan davis x stealth transmasc reader <on t, post op top surgery>. takes place in early 90s, very beginning of korn. reader gets notice by landlord that they will have to share their space with a new roommate- that being jd. despite the readers initial lack of excitement, they get to know each other and develop a mutual liking)

18+ !!!!!!!

warning: substance use, lots of swearing, sexual tension, general faggotry

The morning following your tender night with Jon, you were awoken by the feeling of him unconciously slinging his leg over you. You were completely entangled in his grasp; arms clasped around your chest, leg slung over yours, the sound of his soft snores against the back of your head. Entrapped, yet you didn’t mind one bit. You were beaming uncontrollably before you were even fully concious. It felt so good to know someone you liked so much felt the same way about you. You laid in his clutches for a few extra minuets until the heat from his body and the blankets became a bit too much, causing you to try your best to inch away without waking him. The moment you slipped out from his arms, he whined drowsily.

“Mmm, no…” he groaned out in a sleepy, raspy voice. Eyes still closed. “Come back.”

You let out a light chuckle, turning toward him to see him sprawled out and half asleep still. His long, thin limbs outstretched toward you in an awkward position. “Sleep… please, Y/N.…” He muttered out. He looks so fucking cute. You couldn’t stop staring at him. His chest hair poking out of the top of the blanket, dreads messily encompassing his face, his stubble coming through.

“I want to, Jon… but I think you’re forgetting you have rehearsal today. Remember? I uh, wanted to tag along this time.”

He perked up a little and rolled onto his stomach groggily, holding his chin up with his hand and opening his eyes to look at you. A sliver of light that shone in through a broken blind lit his tired eyes up and made them appear like they were almost sparkling. It gave you butterflies to be making eye contact. You just found him to be so beautiful; and now you can allow yourself to express it as such. Leaning over the bed, you planted a soft kiss on his forehead.

“You’re finally gonna come?” He grinned showcasing his signature crooked teeth.

“Mhm. I’ve wanted to since you brought it up, I just never went ‘cause I didn’t wanna seem annoying.” You went over to your closet and started shifting through clothes, trying to find something subtly cool enough to impress his bandmates. He sighed, upset slightly that you would’ve ever thought he’d find you annoying.

“Anyways, it’s already like, two. I dunno what time-“

“Oh shit!” Jon sprung up clumsily and shoved his face into the clock on your dresser. “Fuck, okay, get dressed quick. We gotta bounce ASAP.”

He zipped past you and into the living room where his things were to throw on some random articles of clothing. You could hear him cursing under his breath from your room while you got changed. It was stressing you out a bit. Jonathan hadn't particularly struck you to be the most punctual guy. You grabbed your wallet and keys before walking out into the living room to catch up with him. With a death grip on your wrist, he pulled you outside and to his car. On the drive there, he was rambling about the songs they were writing, his bandmates and how they met, breaking down their personalities for you so you weren’t thrown for a loop. He was clearly teeming with nervous excitement to finally have you witness him sing with his band.

“Do you think your friends will like me?” You quietly asked, bouncing your leg with anxiety.

“Of course they fuckin’ will! ‘Cause I like you.” He raised his eyebrows and smiled at you, momentarily taking his eyes off the road to reassure you. “You’re likable… and cool. If anything, I’m more worried that you won’t like them.” He came to a harsh break at a stop sign and turned toward you, a soft and sympathetic expression on his face. “You’re gonna do fine. I know you get anxious about social stuff, but I promise. They’re just a couple ah weird dudes. It’ll be like chillin with a bunch of monkeys that play instruments and drink beer.” He beat his chest and howled like an ape to make you laugh; it worked.

For the remainder of the car ride, he held your hand in his, intertwining your fingers and rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. Initially you were hesitant to be the one to grab his hand, but he shamelessly snatched yours up once he saw your fingers twitch. The sweaty palms didn’t deter him from wanting to keep your fingers laced as long as possible. The two of you pulled up into the driveway of a relatively small home. The garage was wide open, revealing three men sitting in a circle drinking beers around various instruments. The one who had a series of braids sticking out of his head stood up and waved cartoonishly with both arms.

“JOOOON! YOU’RE LATE, BITCH!” He ran up to the car and beat on the drivers’ side window. Jon turned toward you, quickly uttering “That’s Brian” before opening up the car door and embracing his friend. You felt your heart rate increase at the thought of interacting with a new group of people. All you could do is stand by the car and silently observe. They briefly caught up and exchanged friendly banter. You were trying to learn their names through the conversation.

“Where’s Fieldy, ya’ll?” Jon questioned.

“Muthafuckin’ late again of course.” The one Jon had referred to as David responded, a wide cheeky grin on his face. Jon was so stressed out about being late, but the guys didn’t really seem to care nearly as much as he did.

“It’s cool, we’ve just been cracking into the beers he left last sesh until you guys showed up. Here.” The one with dreads slurred out, handing a beer to Jon. “Hey man, want one?” He gestured toward you, holding a can and smiling sweetly. It snapped you out of your silent observation and you walked toward him, forcing a smile on your face as you grabbed it. “Thanks brother, I appreciate it.”

“No prob man. Names’ James, but you can call me Munky.” He drunkenly fist bumped the hand you had clasped over your beer. “That goofy motherfucker is Head, and that’s David.” He pointed to his friends who both enthusiastically waved at you. Jon was smiling uncontrollably as he pulled up a chair behind you for you to sit in and join.

“Cool. M’ names Y/N. It’s dope to finally meet you guys.” You nodded your head and cracked your beer open, taking a seat. Jonathan sat on the ground criss cross between you and Head.

“We know. Jon talks about you like, a lot. Woulda assumed he was tuggin’ on your nuts behind the scenes.-”

“Oh yeah, we go at it fuckin’ hard.” Jon smacked Heads’ shin making a goofy expression. “Shut the hell up before I tug your nuts.” You couldn’t suppress the heat in your face. It was really cute that Jon talked about you so much to his closest friends. You laughed awkwardly and took a sip of your beer, patting Jons head. He threw his head back and looked up at you. “See? A bunch of fuckin’ morons.” He slyly winked.

For the next forty five minuets until Fieldy arrived, the boys made a conscious effort to make you feel comfortable. They talked about their instruments, tattoos, cracked jokes and tried to make you laugh as much as they could. A couple beers in and you found yourself feeling significantly more comfortable then expected. They really made you feel like part of the group and seemed to enjoy your company despite your somewhat reserved nature. Jon was beaming with excitement every time you commented, laughed or interjected. You had learned how they came to be a band and their first impressions of Jon; listening to them reminisce was really sweet and intriguing. It only made you want to learn more about Jonathan and his life.

Once Fieldy arrived - and got pelted with empty beer bottles due to being ridiculously late - he introduced himself to you before they got fully set up to play. You sat on a foldout chair in the driveway, your fourth beer in your hand as you watched them scramble to their respective spots. Before you knew it, you were deeply enveloped in music you had never heard before. You had no idea Jon was capable of projecting his voice and creating the sounds he was making. The emotion on his face and the way he moved and danced while singing sent waves of shivers down your body. Peeling your eyes away for even a second wasn’t an option. In fact, the whole band had your attention in a chokehold. It felt like a new world had opened up for you. Even when they would stop in the middle of a note and have a technical discussion, dick around or try to figure something out, it was beyond intriguing to listen to and watch. Every now and then before he’d start singing, Jon would nod at you to make sure you were doing okay. You were more than okay.

They played a total of 7 songs, each at least twice. It was mesmerizing. You caught yourself with a gaping mouth more than a couple of times. The boys wrapped things up and all shuffled over to you to ask your opinions. You could barely get your thoughts to come out as words in your half drunken, completely awestruck state, but did your best in showering them with compliments. You got a hug from Munky, Fieldy and Head and an honorary fist bump from David after they had invited you to come back to the next rehearsal. Jon said his goodbyes to his friends and you guys dipped with a pack of warm beer and a tightly packed joint that Fieldy sent the both of you off with. You hopped in the passenger seat of the car, and waved goodbye to the band; both of you a little bit intoxicated. The second Jon pulled out of the driveway, he turned to you with a hopeful smile.

“Now that it’s just us… what’d you think? Like honestly?”

“Dude, I think you’re fucking amazing. I think I’m your biggest fucking fan now.”

He snickered somewhat timidly. “Really? That means a lot coming from you.” Jon snuck a quick glance of admiration at you, fighting back a toothy grin. “Can I maybe get a kiss for doing so good?”

“You can get a million kisses!” You leaned over the center console in his car and left a series of quick kisses all over his cheek, causing him to giggle. He turned his head for a brief moment at a stop sign and your lips impacted each other sweetly. The two of you turning hot in the face, his cheeks bright red.

“We oughta crack into these beers and this mothafuckin’ joint when we get back to the apartment.” Jon excitedly mentioned. You felt eager, yet a little anxious to get high with him now that your feelings were out in the open. For the rest of the short lived car ride, you rested your hand on his thigh while you had lighthearted conversation. Every now and then giving a squeeze when he’d come up a bit too fast at a stop light, or make a harsh turn. It’s almost as if he started doing it intentionally at one point just to feel your grip tighten on him just a little bit.

Arriving at the apartment felt relieving after a long day of socializing with new people. The pressure you felt for the last few hours started to melt away a bit once you glanced around. Realizing you were home alone with the man you had deep feelings for and were getting progressively more comfortable around with every day. Jon pulled two lukewarm beers out of the pack and handed you one, fumbling with the joint in his pocket. He grabbed your free hand and started pulling you toward the balcony door; clearly very eager to get crossfaded together. The two of you sat down on the cruddy chairs, the sun beginning to set as orange light shone on your faces.

“Ready to get fucked up?” He toothily smiled, flicking the lighter you had left on the ground outside and taking the first deep inhale. You couldn’t help but smile, observing how attractive he looked blowing out the smoke. You shifted your seat closer to him so your knees were slotted in between each other. He raised the joint up to your lips and lit the end, prompting you to breathe in a hardy hit. You leaned your head back as you exhaled above you. Your head dropped down again and your eyes met with Jons’. He was staring at you with a soft gaze of adoration.

“Shit, you’re so fuckin’ handsome.” He took another hit of the joint. “It blows my mothafuckin’ mind.” He once again pressed the still lit joint to your lips, simultaneously taking a swig of his beer. A grin spread across your face as you remained locking eyes with him, taking a drawn out hit; a bit bigger then you anticipated, actually.

“Says you. You’re fucking beautiful.” You accidentally exhaled smoke into his face making him squint slightly, but not lessening his smile. He put his hand up to your cheek softly and caressed it with his thumb. His eyes darting between your pupils and your lips. The two of you already feeling yourselves getting gradually more intoxicated as the beer and weed intertwined in your systems. You couldn’t tell if your comment had gotten tears to well in his eyes or if they were already starting to glaze over.

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“Very beautiful. I’ve thought so since you first bumbled into my apartment.”

He couldn’t help but lean fully forward, closing in the last few inches between your faces. Smashing his lips into yours lovingly, he moved his other hand up to your cheek as he held your head gently. Your own hands found his knees as he barely gave you time to breathe before pulling away from your passionate kiss. There were definitely tears in his eyes.

“That means a lot to me, Y/N. You mean a lot to me.” Jons’ voice cracked out, your face still resting in his hands.

“You mean a lot to me too. You make me feel so normal.” You sighed, lightly dragging your fingers along his knee. “Jon… thank you for accepting me.”

“Accepting you? Man, I hit the fuckin’ jackpot!”

You both laughed as you lightly slapped his thigh, him leaning in to give you more kisses, occasionally nibbling on your bottom lip. The taste of smoke and your beers mixing in a comforting way, sending firecrackers and fast heartbeats through both of you. Before you knew it, you had finished almost the whole joint together. Talking about your feelings and attraction through the hits you were taking, giving each other soft kisses and light touches.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever actually liked a guy this much.” Jons’ eyes were totally bloodshot as he gazed into yours. “It feels so weird. Not like a bad weird, just a different weird… like, I wanna know every part of you.” He paused for a moment before moving his hand down from your upper thigh to your knee. “Not like that. Well, yeah, like that, but not just like that. Don’t get it twisted, I definitely want that… Just- Should I stop talking? I sound like a fuckin’ pervert now.”

He slapped himself in the forehead which prompted you to burst out laughing. He giggled in response, relieved that he hadn’t creeped you out, but obviously feeling mildly embarrassed. You reached a hand out to peel it away from his red face.

“You’re fine. I know what you mean…” you wrapped his fingers in yours, squeezing his hand lightly to reassure him.

“I don’t think I’ve liked a guy this much either. In fact, I don’t really think I’ve liked anyone this much. So it is kinda weird, but I dig the weirdness.” You leaned forward kissing him on the lips swiftly. “… and for the record, I wanna know every part of you, too. Both in the innocent, sweet, deep secrets sorta way and, like- well, the other way. How could I not?” You glanced down for a moment attempting to hide your expression from him. It wasn’t often at all that you talked about your feelings with people. You had probably spoke more about yourself and the inner workings of your mind with Jonathan in the last month then you had with anyone your whole life. It was a much needed change. He was sensitive and empathetic. Easy to talk to, whether the conversation was serious or stupid.

“That definitely makes me feel better.” He stuttered out; his voice cracking a little bit. Jon moved his hand back up to your thigh and squeezed softly, biting his lip. “I really really like you, Y/N.”

“I really really like you too, Jonathan.” You placed your hand on his and leaned in to kiss him. It very rapidly went from a sweet, soft kiss to getting rougher in nature. He was soon biting at your lips and pushing at your teeth with his tongue. His hand rubbing your thigh as he pushed his knee in closer to your crotch, your legs fitting together like puzzle pieces. He had his other hand running through your hair sweetly, lightly tugging a few strands each time you’d bite his lips back or let a soft noise out into his mouth. Your own hands were weaving through his dreads, curling them through your fingers and pulling his head toward your own. The two of you had completely lost track of time as you passionately made out and caressed each other for hours. Getting progressively more desperate for each other, but taking it slowly regardless. Pulling away for a much needed breath, you shifted your glance at the night sky; leaving Jonathan panting and resting his head against the nape of your neck.

“How long have we been out here?”

“I have no fuckin’ idea. Can we keep kissing again?” Jon bit at your neck in a needy manor and ran his fingers up your back, giving you goosebumps. Your hands still gingerly holding and petting his hair. “Please?”

Placing a kiss on top of his head, you sighed out; “I have work tomorrow, bubs. I gotta be up early.” Disappointment prevalent in your voice. Your high had began to come down quite a bit ago and your exhaustion and realization started to kick in once you noticed the darkness outside. Jon bit your neck with a bit more force, making you jump a little in your seat.

“Fuck work, when I’m famous you won’t need it no more.”

“I know. Until then though, we need to afford rent. Come on, you big baby.” You snickered and tried to stand up, to which he limply collapsed onto your lap, trapping your body down. You couldn’t stop from giggling wildly at his childish behavior. It was one of the stupid little things about Jon that you found so endearing. Somehow, you managed to stand up, finally getting him to lazily rise to his feet. You caught yourself looking up at him. It was easy to forget he was taller then you. Planting another quick kiss on your lips, you grabbed his hand and led him into your room, eager to lay down. Looking at the time on the clock felt of very little importance.

“I can sleep in here with you again?”

“Dur.”

Jon swiftly stripped to his boxers and collapsed onto the bed as you followed suit. The two of you excitedly covered yourselves with blankets and scooted in close to one another. Something you had learned very quickly, even before discussing your feelings with each other, was that Jons’ love language was physical touch. He always had to have his hands or fingers on you, his head resting on your shoulder, your legs on him, his arms around you, and so on. Now that your mutual feelings were out in the open, he had already gotten significantly more touchy. He pulled you close to him, enveloping you in the feeling of his body hair tickling your bare skin and the warm embrace of his arms around you. You decided in the moment it would be best to ignore his boner pressing against you, though it was making you feel distractingly hot. Jon’s fingers were playing with your happy trail, tickling you slightly.

“I like your hair…” he breathily whispered in your ear, giving you chills. “You’re such a pretty boy.”

“Thank you…” A wide, sleepy grin plastered across your face with his words. You wanted to flip around and kiss him so fucking bad, but were too comfortable. “I like your everything.”

“I like your everything.”

Despite your mutual frustration, it didn’t take long for the pair of you to fall asleep. Jon nodded off first, caressing your skin with his fingers until the sound of his soft snores hit your ears. Shortly thereafter, once again trapped in his clutches, you had no choice but to fall asleep in his arms as well.

The night was quiet and peaceful. The two of you had shifted around in your sleep a few times so you were no longer wrapped in Jons’ arms. It had been only a couple of short hours before the sound of a faint squeak had awoken you. You remained half asleep, facing the wall of your bedroom until your eyes shot open with a sound you weren't at all anticipating. You froze, eyes wide, trying to figure out the noises your ears were registering.

#jonathan davis x reader #jonathan davis x transmasc reader #jonathan davis x ftm reader #jonathan davis fic #jonathan davis #korn fic #bawltongue writes #roommates #fic

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