#DREW THIS INSTEAD OF SLEEPING WHICH IS BAD BC I NEED TO WAKE UP AGAIN IN 2 YRS

[milkbreadtoast]

it's hot....🤒🔥

[terresdebrume]

The Witcher - Favorite Reads Masterpost

So, the previous one was getting really super long and Tumblr refused to save the latest update three times, which I’m taking to mean I’ve reached some kind of length limit. In view of that, and with a poke to @nyliekeo​ who asked to be tagged, here’s the second volume of my Witcher fic-reading adventures!

(Pretty much all Geraskier, because I’m only a multishipper in the sense that I have many ships across many fandoms.)

Volume 1

Last updated: April 10th, 2020.

Non geraskier fic

Her Current Is Pulling You Closer - TheMarvellousMadMadamMim

Specs: 1 900 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Eist/Calanthe - Swimming, shameless flirting

Summary: After nearly three years of marriage, Eist Tuirseach realizes there are still things to learn about his wife.

Becoming Water - Orockthro

Specs: 3 456 words - Mature - Trans woman!Geralt, curses, happy ending

Summary:  When Geralt was a child his mother kissed his forehead, wove flowers in his hair, and let him dance around the campsite they shared with the other druids. He loved dancing, the way his body moved and flowed; he was like water.

And then she left him in the road, spilled water on his feet, and a faint trail of dust where she and the cart were no longer. And a man came and took Geralt and made him into something new.

“Were you short? Waifish? Did those witcher mutagens turn you into, you know, the hulking sexy man that you are? At least they gave you such male perfection, what with the stubble and the jaw and the--”

“Shut up, Jaskier.”

(Or, Geralt is cursed with a female body during their travels. Only it's not so much a curse as a gift she didn't know she so desperately desired until now.)

of cockroaches and men - Potrix

Specs: 1 442 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Yennefer & Jaskier, Getting to know each other, BAMF Jaskier

Summary: As if being stuck waiting for her supplier in this sorry excuse for a town full of narrow-minded, superstitious simpletons isn't already frustrating enough, the first familiar face Yennefer spots when she walks into the grubby tavern is that of her least favourite bard.

Or, alternatively; sometimes you misjudge people, but there's nothing some badassery and booze won't fix.

all cooped up - alittlebitmaybe

Specs: 4 205 words - Mature - Polyamory, Pandemic 2020, Non-explicit sex, instigator Yen

Summary: Geralt's old university roommate, Jaskier, needs a place to ride out the pandemic. Geralt and Yennefer conveniently have a couch and Geralt, inconveniently, has a crush.

Cover it over and write it out - TheArcheologist

Specs: 3 214 words - Mature - Dyslexia, implied child abuse, Dandelion is a noble

Summary: There is something Geralt has noticed, after traveling so long with Jaskier. It is nothing major, nothing world ending or even warranting bringing up, but it is there, nonetheless, a funny little habit he can’t unsee.

“You’re better at this stuff than me, Geralt, you read it.”

Geraskier fics

pride - Besully (Briar_Elwood)

Specs: 737 words - Teen & Up - Trans Jaskier

Summary: Geraskier Week Dealer's Choice

He only manages to get the shirt untucked from the bard’s trousers when Jaskier’s smile disappears, and he scrambles backwards, holding the edges of his shirt down.

Do It Again - thisgirlsays22

Specs: 6 771 words - Explicit - Time Loop

Summary: By the twentieth time Geralt has gone through the loop, he decides to just throw himself off the cliff’s edge after Borch.

He wakes up to his twenty-first attempt.

“Fuck.”

Interlude; The End of All Things - TabbyCat33098

Specs: 3 496 words - General Audiences - Growing Old Together

Summary: Geralt realizes Jaskier is growing old and tries his best to return the rest of Jaskier's life to him. If only Jaskier would cooperate and take it.

//

How much longer will Jaskier be content with weathering the elements and contending with the uncertainty of mercenary work? How long until Jaskier realizes that in devoting himself to crafting a legacy for Geralt, he has forgotten to create a legacy of his own?

After all, he does not have a wife or children, for their nomadic lifestyle is conducive to neither. He has no home to return to between stints with Geralt, whether a sprawling mansion vaunting his wealth or a comfortable cottage replete with souvenirs from his varied exploits. How many experiences has Jaskier sacrificed because some contract or irate nobleman drew them elsewhere? How many untouched fields of snow has Jaskier never seen; how many harvests at Novigrad has he yearned to celebrate from halfway across the Continent—

“You’re staring,” Jaskier points out.

“You wanted to go to the Kovirian coast,” Geralt responds. 

a tapestry of scars - splendidlyimperfect

Specs: 7 688 words - Mature - Modern AU, Birpolar disorder, self harm, references to previous suicide attempt and car accident.

Summary: Jaskier comes into Geralt's life on a sunny afternoon in May - wide smiles and baby blue eyes; breathtaking stories and half-written song lyrics. He's mesmerizing and full of life, and Geralt can't look away. But sunshine doesn't last forever, and when Jaskier disappears, Geralt learns that beautiful things have dark and broken pieces, and even damaged people can help fix them.

Summer Mornings - The UnamazingTrashKing

Specs: 3 241 words - Mature - Fluff

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier are sort of a couple. They definitely wake up together and talk about spending the rest of their lives together.

An Incomplete Happiness - BlossomsintheMist

Specs: 22 497 words - Mature - Serious injuries, injuries recovery, unresolved sexual tension, unresolved romantic tension

Summary: Jaskier is traveling with Geralt when a hunt goes badly wrong and Geralt ends up injured.  Geralt soon realizes that the bard can take care of Geralt better than he'd realized, in his own way.

Hide Behind The Mound of Dead Bards - Bones (Doctorbones)

Specs: 17 296 words - Explicit - Temporary character death, Graphic depiction of violence

Summary: Jaskier is really bad at two things: shutting up and staying dead. Luckily, he can do both at the same time...for a while.

faith in transience - unconscious

Specs: 12 532 words - Explicit - Monster of the week, Service top Jaskier, attempted mind control.

Summary:  “I learn stuff about you to enrich my songs, thanks very much.”  Geralt starts.

“Like what?”

Jaskier strums a chord. “Plenty of things. You always ask the contractor if they want the head or not instead of just showing up with it, because you don’t want to shock people. You eat normal amounts of food when eating in public, instead of your usual awe-inducing giant amount. You sleep more when you’re hurt, but that’s the only way I’d ever know. You’re a bit weird about your potions and you count them a lot.” He glances up and grins. “Shall I continue?”

A handful of contracts go sideways. Recovering is easier with Jaskier there.

when midnight breaks their sleep - SummerFrost

Specs: 16 736 words - Mature - Modern setting, polyamory, polyamory negociation

Summary:   The first Snapchat that anyone ever sends Geralt is a picture of his own irritated face.

shrike_princess: can u believe this dumbass finally got a snapchat bc a cute boy asked him nicely

"It wasn't even that nicely," Geralt says flatly.

AKA: The one where Geralt is a bartender and Jaskier sings karaoke.

he, who i love - kinneyb

Specs: 1 279 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Established relationship

Summary: Jaskier looked forward to these nights the most; he was playing in a rundown tavern in a small town near the coast, coins gathered at his feet, knowing that at any moment Geralt would come bursting through the door.

He spun on his heels, strumming his lute with nimble fingers, the mark of a practiced player.

Jaskier had thought he’d reached his peak when he was younger. He had been proven wrong, of course, practice truly did make perfect. He was getting more attention than ever, and only half of it probably had to do with his new songs, all depicting the Witcher’s love story with a bard of the human variety.

He never directly mentioned himself, but the people had made the connection fairly easily, anyway.

Near the Coast - IantoPace

Specs: 2 164 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Dresses

Summary: Geralt finds out some of the feminine things Jaskier likes. This is inspired by the images of Joey Batey & Madeleine Hyland in the woods wearing each other's clothes.

Shoot First, Ask Questions Later - Ladivviniatravestia

Specs: 3 427 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Defining the relationship

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier fuck, then try to define their relationship.  Too bad Geralt has no idea what he really wants and Jaskier has been hiding something.

parry, riposte - plutoandpersephone

Specs: 5 230 words - Explicit - Established relationship, competence kink, power dynamics

Summary: "How about it?"

Geralt looks at Jaskier like he’s just started to speak in some long lost, foreign tongue.

"You want to take me on in the sword ring?"

-

Jaskier challenges Geralt to a bout in the fencing ring. They both get more than they bargained for.

The Coast - NinjaSniperKitty

Specs: 1 856 words - General Audiences - Established relationship, overly protective boyfriend!Geralt

Summary: Geralt takes Jaskier up on his offer to get away and go to the coast for a while. While Geralt sees danger hiding everywhere along the coast, Jaskier hasn't been to the sea in years and only sees a good time!

Sweet, Silky, Soft, and Shiny - Girl_in_Red_Crossing

Specs: 3 251 words - Mature - Inappropriate use of candy

Summary: Just a couple of bros, sucking on sweet things... sharing silky things... lying in soft beds together... (kissing)...

The Witcher Wolf 2: Geralt’s POV - im_fairly_witty.

Specs: 15 338 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Animal transformation

Summary: It's been two weeks since Geralt drove Jaskier away from him on that mountain top and Geralt's been doing his best not to think about it by accepting every contract he comes across. But when a job goes badly he find himself cursed into the form of an injured wolf and is then saved by none other than Jaskier himself, who has no idea that the animal he's taken under his wing is his own witcher. Geralt must now try to alert Jaskier to his real situation and adjust to his new life traveling with the bard, learning several hard but very much needed lessons along the way.

Shadowplay - sospes

Specs: 26 539 words - Mature - BAMF!Jaskier, Espionnage

Summary: Geralt returns to Oxenfurt on a bright May morning to find flowers laid outside Jaskier's rooms and a fresh grave in the cemetery.

Except, as Geralt is about to learn, in Jaskier's world things are never quite what they seem.

An Old Man’s Tale - NotebooksandLaptops

Specs: 1 448 words - General Audiences - External POV, Old age

Summary: At the edge of the village, in a house surrounded by wild-flowers and weeds - re-built from its former crumbling foundations – there lived the Old Man. He’d earnt the rights for the capital O, capital M off of the rest of the villagers barely a week after he’d moved into their humble world. For he had not grown up here, like everyone else did. Yet he settled and settled as if he had always been there. He wandered the cliffsides, the beaches, the streets. He strung shells together and gifted them to the ladies of the village with a wink that betrayed the charming young man he once must have been. He bought the little ceramic pots Alicja sold on the market, and he filled them with weeds as if the weeds were flowers worth showcasing. And – most importantly – he sang.

-///-

Or, Jaskier settles in a costal village towards the end of his life.

For The Joy Of It - vvitchering (Witchering)

Specs: 848 words - Teen & Up Audiences - self esteem issues, body image

Summary: After spending years on The Path together, Jaskier and Geralt finally settle down. Jaskier notices one day that his new sedentary lifestyle has changed him in ways he fears Geralt won't accept.

The Silence Between Heartbeats - anarchycox

Specs: 7 969 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Jskier knows Geralt better than anyone

Summary: Geralt faced off with a sorceress, only instead of her magic killing him, it stole his voice. But this should be an easy fix, he knew many women who could heal this. But that would mean anyone noticing something wrong. He knew he was quiet, but seriously, did no one wonder why he wasn't saying a single thing? Months he traveled silent, no one noticing and it was driving him mad.

Until he runs into Jaskier, who notices immediately that something is wrong.Because of course it is Jaskier.

Who else in the end would it be, who properly saw the White Wolf?

tailored - jeannie_tangerine

Specs: 4 874 words - Explicit - Geralt has a kink and Jaskier is absolutely into it.

Summary: in which Jaskier finds out that Geralt has a kink and is more than glad to indulge it.

oh darling please be mine - kickassfu

Specs: 749 words - General Audiences - Introspective, fluff

Summary: Geralt’s head turns to him just as he’s jumping into his arms. Obviously, he catches Jaskier, in his very strong, very big arms. Still probably processing what’s happening, Geralt’s body is tense, unmoving. Jaskier doesn’t care.

New Monsters Stories - Kathkin

Specs: 20 209 words - Explicit - Urban fantasy, mutual pining

Summary:  “So do you have a name?”

“Yeah.” The man who had saved his life less than an hour ago – the white-haired, absurdly buff, weirdly sexy man Jaskier might have called taciturn if he was feeling charitable and surly if he was feeling less so – dug into his second burger.

Jaskier waited. “Are… you going to tell me what it is?”

The man paused mid-bite, and looked at him reproachfully as if to say how dare you. How dare you interrupt me. Can’t you see I’m enjoying my cheeseburger. Can’t you see this cheeseburger is the most important thing in my life right at the moment. He swallowed, and said, “Geralt.”

It turns out almost getting eaten by a werewolf can make your whole life go careening off in a new, terrifying, wondrous, artistically flourishing direction. Who knew?

Professor Pankratz - martistarfighter

Specs: 1 147 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Established relationship

Sumary:  “Come teach my class with me tomorrow.” He whispers in the witcher’s ear. He’s sporting a neatly trimmed beard these days, and it tickles Geralt’s neck in the most tempting way.

Geralt chuckles dryly, but the lack of an immediate quip tells him that Jaskier is serious. It’s a little scary how often they can read their minds by now.

“Don’t think so. You’re the teacher, Jask. I’ve got nothing to tell them.”

“But you’re the reason I’m still alive and teaching in the first place. Besides, you can just sit there, look pretty and answer some questions. My students have heard a lot about you, they’ll adore you.”

As someone pointed out, there's too much 'witcher watching out for his idiot' and not enough 'the witcher is a himbo who loves his college educated bard husband, who is qualified to teach' content out there. So I'm fixing it with a self-indulgent ficlet!

and i plan to be forgotten when i’m gone (yes, i’ll be leaving in the fall) - Stockholm_Syndrome

Specs: 18 083 words - Mature - Discussion of assisted suicide, discussion of suicide, depression, curse, no MCD

Summary: “That was more emotional than I expected.” He finally said “I didn’t think I’d have time to share this with you, and I.” Jaskier interrupted himself, as if unsure if he should continue. “I suppose I didn’t think it would upset you so.”

“Jaskier” Geralt growled, not able to express how ludicrous that idea was.

“Yes, I suppose I was wrong there.” Jaskier replied with a helpless shrug.

---- Or, Jaskier is cursed to turn into a monster. He doesn't think this is important information to mention.

Chopsticks - thisgirlsays22

Specs: 12 175 words - Explicit - Piano teacher!Jaskier, friends to lovers, modern setting

Summary: “Yennefer sent me a check for eight lessons for you,” Jaskier said the following weekend, wearing a beige button-down with--

“Does your shirt have owls on it?” Geralt asked, caught somewhere between amusement and horror.

Jaskier looked down and tugged on the front of his shirt as if he had to remind himself what was on it. He beamed at Geralt. “Yeah! Do you like it?”

“Not particularly.”

The smile swiftly disappeared.

“It’s not terrible,” he amended, stepping back to let Jaskier inside the apartment. Then Jaskier’s initial words sank in. “Wait. Yen did what?”

Hanging up on Yennefer was always a mistake.

what’s in a (pet) name? - janie_tangerine

Specs: 1 415 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Fluff, pet names

Summary:  "So," he clears his throat one evening, having just rinsed Geralt's now clean, soft white hair, and damn how he wishes the man would just take care of it somewhat decently, "I was wondering."

"What?" Geralt says after he doesn't go on for a bit. It didn't sound particularly annoyed. Right on.

"This is a very broad question, but I was just curious, no need to answer if you don't want to -" Jaskier starts, having learned that giving the man a way out is always a good bet.

"Just get on with it, won't you?"

Jaskier clears his throat, leans down, puts his elbows on the rim of the tub. "How do you feel about pet names?"

Or: in which Jaskier has a question for Geralt. It doesn't get answered the way he had assumed.

As Long As You Were Mine For A Little While - whisperedstories

Specs: 12 815 words - Explicit - Friends with benefits, mutual pining

Summary: It starts with Jaskier offering a helping hand when Geralt needs to let off some steam. The thing is, Jaskier likes taking care of Geralt—however he can—and Geralt lets him, so he just keeps doing it.

And as long as they never talk about how he's in love with Geralt, they're both happy with the arrangement, right? Right.

Of Debt and Debtors - sp_oops

Specs: 5 136 words - Explicit - Semi-public sex

Summary: Two bros, chillin' in a ta-vern, five feet apart ‘cause they—fuck, they really missed each other, not that Geralt will ever admit it—and anyway, in a minute here, they're gonna have to get closer than they ever thought possible. (Or, sometime after Episode 6, they meet again, Jaskier’s in trouble again, and Geralt saves them. Again.)

This One I Shall Choose - DorkMagician

Specs: 3 751 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Quiet pining, the exact moment Geralt falls in love

Summary: Geralt falls in the river fishing for a djinn and winds up soaked. Jaskier sees the opportunity to do as his mother told him a long time ago and takes the first step when he offers Geralt his handkerchief.

Skin Deep - Sospes

Specs: 8 935 words- Teen & Up Audiences - Fluff, getting together, non consensual tattooing, implied/referenced rape, implied/referenced childhood abuse

Summary: “What’s that?” Geralt asks.

Jaskier blinks. “It’s a tattoo,” he says. “Have you never seen a tattoo before, Geralt?”

Geralt fights the urge to roll his eyes. “I know it’s a tattoo,” he says. “What’s it a tattoo of?”

They say there are 5 ways to show your love (and I don’t know any of them) - Mayathelittlebee

Specs: 5 989 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Fluff, humor

Summary: May be if Geralt stopped being so dramatic for a moment he'd finally realize that loving Jaskier is not as hard as he thinks.

I don’t mind if I’m with you - janie_tangerine

Specs: 11 152 words - Explicit - In which Jaskier has to quelle his murder instincts concerning how much Geralt’s life sucks

Summary: or: five times plus one in which Jaskier finds out that Geralt is missing on good life experiences and promptly sees to fix it.

Fill Me Up - Mysticmajestic

Specs: 402 words - Teen & Up Audiences - Romance

Summary: Geralt only knows how to give, and give, until he's empty. What is he to do with Jaskier, who only wants to give back to him?

Little Things - QueenForADay

Specs: 3 315 words - General Audiences - Domestic fluff, Ciri ships it

Summary: In the first few months of knowing the Witcher, he experienced first-hand how shut-off Geralt could be with the world around him and those within it.

At some point, and he can’t pinpoint where, that shroud started to slip away. He saw how much Geralt could, and does, actually care. It’s as fierce as the way he fights.

They spend a great deal of time watching each other; when they finally fell into a bed together, they spent most of their nights learning what the other liked, mapping the plains of skin and muscle underneath the other.

But it’s the other things, the little things, that Jaskier thinks about the most.

O, Empathy - almostnectarine

Specs: 32 624 words - Mature - Body swap, friends to lovers, questfic

Summary: “How did you manage,” asked Geralt, with infinite patience and only a desire to know the facts, and not at all a little meanhearted glee, “to insult a sorcerer while his tongue was down your throat?”

“Don’t make me recount the entire sordid affair, Geralt,” said Jaskier, with a surprising note of desperation breaking through his gruff monotone. “I’m already having a rather shit day and all I’ve done so far is wake up.”

“In my body,” said Geralt.

“Yes,” said Jaskier, with the insolent cadence that was unmistakably Jaskier’s, but in Geralt’s voice, emerging from Geralt’s face and frame.

“And I’ve got yours,” said Geralt, from Jaskier’s.

and for that love to be with men - sebviathan

Specs: 6 734 words -Mature - Emotional constipation, self discovery, self acceptance, geralt is a whole ass gay man who doesn’t know what being gay is

Summary: Something's not right about what I'm doing but I'm still doing it—living in the worst parts, ruining myself. My inner life is a sheet of black glass. If I fell through the floor I would keep falling.

The enormity of Geralt's desire disgusts him.

at last, at last, at last, oh I thought you’d never ask - elegantwings

Specs: 15 040 words - Explicit - Arranged marriage, slow burn, trans!Jaskier, in this house we love Yennefer of Vengerberg

Summary: Geralt is given firm instructions from Vesemir: He is to get married to a Redanian noblewoman in the hopes of improving relations between witchers and the rest of the world. Once the ceremony is over, he plans to drop his new spouse off at their new home and carry on with his life as he always has. Little does he know, his future wife is not a woman, and not so easily left behind. He's not really sure he'd like to get rid of Jaskier, either. Over the next several years, they learn to navigate their new relationship, first while Jaskier completes his degree, and then when Jaskier insists on accompanying him on the road. And no matter what anyone else has to say about it, Geralt is absolutely not in love with his husband.

it’s what my heart just yearns to say - chasing_the_sterek

Specs: 1 071 words - Teen & Up - Slice of life, Jaskier: what if I found a way to make Geralt admit when he needs things

Summary: "If you could have one blessing," Jaskier says, eyes lit green by the fire between them, "What would it be?"

Geralt looks at him. The whetstone is smooth and friction-warm in his palm, edges rounded from use. It's been with him for a long time: almost four years.

Jaskier has been with him for even longer, but he's never done this. Geralt squints at him, but only thing different to this morning is the yellow firelight changing the colour his eyes appear.

"What," he says.

not a goodbye, a thank you - Potrix

Specs: 2 915 words - Mature - Graphic depiction of illness, near death experience, talk about death, found family

Summary: Somewhere further in the courtyard, Lambert yells out a colourful curse while Ciri cackles maniacally. Eskel is taunting the former through his laughter, and Vesemir’s voice joins in with barked commands and corrections once the clang of steel against steel continues. Somewhere above them, on one of the balconies overlooking the yard, Geralt can hear the scratch of quill against parchment as Yennefer works on her correspondence, interrupted every now and again by the tapping of nails against an inkpot.

He realises what’s wrong an instant before everyone else grows suddenly, eerily still; Jaskier is quiet.

After Summers of Fasting (I Feel Hunger At Last) - Artemis_Unbound

Specs: 3 793 words - Teen & Up Audiences - A six pack you can see is not a good thing, Jaskier tricks Geralt into Not Being Starving anymore, Love confessions

Summary: Defined six-pack abs are a sign that someone has been starving and dehydrating themselves, not a sign of incredible strength. It's just not healthy.

Jaskier sees Geralt shirtless for the first time, sees all that defined musculature, and is Horrified. He's slept with enough warriors and soldiers to know what that means. And he decides, this stops now.

Tunes Without Words - foxy_mulder

Specs: 22 021 words - Mature - Self-esteem issues, past abuse, miscommunications, misunderstandings

Summary: The plan is this:

He will note all the things that annoy Geralt, and he will stop doing them, and then Geralt will want him around. It will work.

It has to work, because Jaskier cannot be left behind.

The Path Not Taken - sospes

Specs: 40 149 words - Mature - Extraordinarily bad misunderstanding, Idiots in love, Explicit sexual content

Summary: Jaskier comes across an injured witcher in a backwoods town, months after the events of the dragon hunt. It all just sort of escalates from there.

.

[worldwidemochiguy]

Sunkissed (soft! yandere jungkook)

Word Count: 1.2K

Masterlist

Requested by @callingholly​

‘Hey! For the song thing can you do “Sunkissed” by khai dreams with jk?’

Hi!! I’m so sorry it took me so long to do this also it’s kind of bad I'm ngl I just couldn’t focus while writing it but I also didn’t want to keep you waiting any longer 🥺 i might try and rewrite this at some point bc its such a cute song and this is such a shitty fic lmao sorry 🥴

Now Playing: Sunkissed by Khai Dreams

0:39 ───|────── 2:06

      ◁              II             ▷|

              ∞            ↺

It took Jeongguk a while to wake up, reluctant to be pulled from his dream of you and him dancing across a beach, enjoying the sunlight and chasing after the warmth of each other’s arms. He could feel the light of morning through the blinds, and something shifted slightly on top of him, making a soft humming noise. That was the thing that finally drew him out of sleep — imagining the pleasant sight of your sun-kissed face resting against his chest, smiling contently in your sleep. 

He cracked one eye open to see you there, as always, resting safely in his arms. Jeongguk was so glad he had taken you away to be sequestered in this quiet place, where he finally had the chance to give you all of his time. At first, you had resisted, he recounted fondly, but it was foolish. He was patient with you, and slowly but surely, his love broke down every single barrier until all you could do was give in to him. 

You wriggled in your sleep, nuzzling your nose further into his collarbone and he suppressed a coo, stroking your hair back softly enough not to disturb you, though part of him wanted to wake you up so he could receive his daily morning kisses. But you getting adequate rest came above everything else. All he wanted was for you to be healthy and happy, he wanted to be your rock, your light in the darkness. He was so glad you found him just in time to give him his real purpose in life.. When you had found him — bumping into him on the street, of all places — you had been in a dark place, having just moved to a new city after your parents died. You were all alone. You needed someone. Jeongguk needed someone to take care of, and you had arrived in his lap like the perfect gift he never realised he needed. 

At first, you hadn’t known that you needed him too, such a silly baby, Jeongguk remembered amusedly. But you didn’t need to worry about what you needed anymore, you could leave it all to him. Jeongguk didn’t want you to worry about a thing, and he knew you felt the same way about him since you stopped struggling to resist him and instead you let him in. 

Jeongguk decided it was time for you to wake up, so he ran his hands up your sides gently, causing you to stir, brow furrowing as you tried to remain asleep. He chuckled softly, then leant in to place a quick peck on your hairline. When he pulled back, you followed him, eyes opening slightly as you emitted a needy sound. You always were so weak for kisses. When you realised he wasn’t leaning in to kiss you again, you tilted your head up fully with a pout. Jeongguk was struck for a second.

“You’re so… lovely.” He muttered, and you tilted your head, eyes widening slightly in your sleepy state. He laughed, then repeated, “You’re so lovely, baby. No one can blame me for falling for you, I couldn’t help it.” You giggled, then ducked your head into his jawline, blushing.

“I love you.” You whispered against his golden skin, and Jeongguk felt his heart skip a beat. He knew he’d never get used to you saying that. 

“I know, and I love you even more. It’s so…” Jeongguk searched for the right word, before smirking, “It’s so lovely loving you.” 

You rested your weight on your forearms and pushed up so your beautiful face was hovering above Jeongguk’s. Your cheeks had taken on a pretty- no, lovely shade of pink and your eyes were filled with fondness. 

“You’re so cheesy.” You acted like you were unbothered by all of his declarations, but Jeongguk knew you better than that. He twisted over so that he was on top, pinning you to the mattress as he tickled you mercilessly, eradicating the final vestiges of drowsiness as you shrieked and cried beneath him, twisting to get away from him. You could barely breathe, you were laughing so hard. Jeongguk loved seeing you like this — happy, breathless, and completely at his mercy. 

Eventually, he let you go and you curled into his side, still panting cutely. The two of you ended up lying on the bed again, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. He reached up to tap your nose lightly, and you laughed, bumping your nose against his in retort. That, of course, led to an extended kissing session, lazy and relaxed as you pressed your lips against each other’s skin as if you had all the time in the world — which you did. 

Spending the day in bed with you was a luxury Jeongguk felt so grateful for, especially after all the hard work he did in order to earn you. No one else could have done all this for her, he thought smugly, gazing upon your relaxed, radiant face, No one else could make her love them like she loves me. And if they tried, I’d kill them. 

Eventually, you got up to make breakfast, though it was probably closer to midday judging by the sun’s highpoint in the sky. Jeongguk barely let you go to the kitchen, preferring to drag you back again and again for more kisses which you were helpless against. As soon as the pancakes were finished, you padded back to the bedroom to flop back onto the soft blankets, returning to Jeongguk’s side.

“I missed you.” He pouted against your neck, where he then started sucking a bruise onto you. You sighed slightly, tilting your head to give him better access and he held you tighter, rewarding you with an approving rumble. 

“I’m sorry, Jeonggukie. I wanted to make us breakfast. I missed you too.” You replied in between soft murmurs of encouragement as he drew you into his lap. 

“Thank you, baby.” He praised you, “You’re so good now. So lovely. So perfect and soft and wonderful for me, I love you so much.” 

You started whining in his arms as he complimented you over and over, and he chuckled softly. 

“So sensitive to praise, aren’t you?” You whimpered in response, and he smirked. “I guess I will have to compliment you more often then to help you get used to it, no?”

“No,” you panted softly, and he threw his head back in a proper laugh. 

“So sensitive, baby.” Jeongguk chided you jokingly, before conceding. “Do you want us to eat pancakes now?” You nodded wordlessly and he leant over, taking hold of the plate and starting to cut the pancake into smaller pieces to feed you with.

Every day was spent with that familiar contentment, rising late in the sunny hours and kissing slow and sweet. Trading glances and glancing touches and sudden rushes of fondness. Every evening was pink-tinted sunsets and August breezes against bare legs, falling into each others arms and falling into bed and falling in love more and more as you woke up from sun-kissed dreams. 

[shattersstar]

la douleur exquise.

Pairing: Jason Todd!Bodyguard x Reader Prompt: la douleur exquise. / the heart-wrenching pain of wanting someone you can’t have. a/n: finally got around to reposting this bc tumblr decided to delete the original imagine :/ anyways, feedback is always appreciated and expect of this au

***

The car ride was silent, heavy and cold. You slumped in the passenger seat, knees resting on the inside of the door, head vibrating against the glass as you watched the city roll by in a haze of neon. Police cars caught your attention, screaming down the road and flashing their colourful lightshow. Your head perked up as you gaze followed them, speeding in the direction of the place you were fleeing. You let out a long sigh before slumping back into your chair, letting whatever noise from the radio fill the space. Your shoes were long kicked off and legs tucked up onto the seat, eyelids heavy and lashes slick with tears. Your arms wrapped around yourself as you let your eyes fall shut for the remainder of the drive.

You hadn’t remembered dozing, only waking when a breeze cooled your skin. You blinked awake as Jason turned into a parking lot, window rolled down. You straightened up, rubbing your nose as he let out a long breath, the tensions in his body relaxing. His shoulders had been square, alert, since possible threats at the scholarship party began to hum low. And soon when the night exploded into chaos as so many nights in Gotham do, Jason’s hand was wrapped around the curve of your elbow, leading you away from the danger. Bodies fluttered about in their unorganized manners, shoving and screaming, but he kept moving, kept you close as he maneuvered through the crowd. It surprised you a little how light he was on his feet, how he dodged and curved people with a swiftness saved for those much smaller, much more nimble. You weren’t as graceful, people smacking into you, making you waver as you tried to keep in stride. If Jason hadn’t been holding you, you would’ve been swept away.

But as one particular man, set on escaping any impending doom, shoved between your linked arms, the steady grip Jason held you in, faltered. His vice was gone and you nearly screamed as the man cast you aside with a swift push. You stumbled into a wall, Jason’s name about to fall from your lips when he grabbed you. Hands on your biceps and eyes full of concern, you hadn’t realized you were crying till you saw your reflection in his gaze. Jason crowded over you, people nudging him, but he remained unmoved as he scanned over you. Soon you were in front of him, chests pressed together as he held you, leading you through the sea of scared party goers. You broke into the night with a shuddering gasp, ushered into your car and the whips of cool air rolling over your hot, nervous skin were missed as the car peeled away from the hall.  

Now you got out of the car on your own, ignoring the offered hand as you bare feet touched the cracked concrete. You stepped carefully around the large rocks, the cool air you missed had dropped too many degrees, prickling your skin with goosebumps as you climbed the stairs ahead of Jason. You let him pass you as he moved to unlock the door, holding it open for you to duck under his arm and into the place you two hadn’t been in a while. A safe place that was saved for moments of uncertainty, when your home was possibly too dangerous. You had come accustomed to the procedure after incidents like this, sitting at the dining room table and waiting for Jason who was locking the door and toeing off his dress shoes. He hung his jacket over the back of the couch, dress shirt sleeves rolled up as he squatted in front of you. You always liked Jason in a suit, you also like taking him out of it.

His neatly combed hair, which you had done, was now a mess from his agitated hands and sweat. The white mess of curls fell into his face, dipping past his eyebrows. You told him he needed a haircut, that he couldn't do his job if he couldn’t see. He only had shook his head with a smile on his lips, everything felt so easy just hours ago.

“I’m fine Jay.” You dismissed his gaze and long fingers that tilted your head and inspected the visible skin. You knew your words wouldn’t do anything, that it was his job to make sure you were safe and out of harm's way. And to take care of you when you were hurt

“Does anything hurt?” He ignored your protest as you shook your head.

“Not physically.”

“You hit the wall pretty hard ar-- ”

You brought a hand to his cheek, fingers sliding up to push his hair out of his face. Jason softened, letting his eyes slip shut as your hand slipped to his shoulder, the other one coming to rest on the side of his neck. He stood up slowly, letting your arms drift around his neck as he pulled you into a hug. The professionalism established between months ago crumbled once again as you found yourself in his arms. It seemed that your apartment wasn’t only dangerous to physical threats, but the threat of anyone finding out about your relationship. The one that pushed far beyond client and employee. Moments like this were only shared in safe houses or hotels, away from peering eyes and the violence of Gotham.

Jason smelled of the cologne you gave him for his birthday and the wine that was spilled at the table, its red juices dripping off the round edge, and staining the black of his pants. You had laughed when it happened, a little too loud, too unrehearsed and received a handful of eye rolls for it. You wanted to leave than, to tell your parents that you had no reason to keep coming to these events, to keep putting yourself in danger, but appearance mattered too much to those your family associated with.

Although, none of that mattered now. Not when Jason held you, leading you to the bedroom with the billboard across the street streaking through the close blinds and slotting over his face as you fell onto the mattress. He knew you were thinking too much, about the dinner before and after it went bad. He knew his words would falter and leave the two of you unsatisfied, but he knew you didn’t care for them anyways. Not at this moment. You just wanted to be in his arms, to feel safe again, to feel as vulnerable as could be and not be in danger because of it. Instead, he kissed you like neon. Electric, and loud, and consuming. You already were drowning in him, fingers digging into his skin as you left marks that wouldn’t be as permanent as the others that littered the expanse of his body.

Some were from protecting you, some were memories he wouldn’t share and some you made up your own stories about. Your imagination was always running wild, always dragging you into fantasies of a normal life shared with Jason. But it was all make belief, all conjured in your mind, but what was real, was Jason above you. So, you kissed him with all the urgency you could muster, all the fear you could turn into want as you melted under his finger tips. Under his gaze, so heavy with adortion and desire. It used to dizzy you, when all this first started, when you couldn’t keep your hands off your bodyguard and kissed him so fervently in your kitchen one night. The nose colliding, and eyes watering because of it kind of kiss. You thought Jason would’ve quit right there and then, the line he drew in the sand was stolen away by the shore and beckoned further away with each kiss and daring touch. But he stayed, stayed to continue keeping you safe in what way you desired. You once asked him if he’d done this with any of his other clients.

“Done what?”

“Seriously Jason,” You rolled your eyes from where you slouched into the couch, legs tossed over his lap as he ate your unfinished bagel. “Y’know what I mean.”

“Eat breakfast with them?” He was grinning at this point, eyes deep with mischief and you sighed.

“You’re such an ass.” You were silent after, moment forgotten as many were. Intimacy was always fleeting with you two. You got dressed for the day ahead, walking behind him as he strode over to the elevator. He wasn’t supposed to stay over at your place, not as often as he did at least, and you hoped prying eyes never knew more than you two allowed to the public eye. You stood next to him in the elevator, eyes on the floor as he tapped his fingers on the rail. The elevator jolted to a stop, taking a moment to open. You pushed off the wall, ready to venture out the back and to your car when Jason grabbed your wrist.

“I haven’t.” He said when you casted a look over your shoulder, worry low in your eyes that someone may see.

“Haven’t what?” You questioned, lips rubbing together. He dropped your hand and reached between the doors to stop them from sliding shut.

“Haven’t done anything with my clients before you. And I wouldn’t do anything with clients after you.” You only nodded, swallowing hard and letting him guide you to the car. There was something odd, yet wonderful that Jason seemed to perceive time as before and after you.

Although, time felt far off, unreal and unmoving as you laid in a large bed with sheets wrapped around you and darkness sunken into the room. Jason slipped out of bed some time ago, likely checking in with his unknown friends to find out what happened at the dinner. You waited patiently for him, body spent and heavy against the soft blankets. You thought of drifting off, of letting him find you with soft snores falling from your lips and carefully making his way next to you, but you knew Jason. You knew he’d find some excuse to sleep on the couch, to push distance between you two, to make it easy for the day he’ll eventually leave. When the target on your back shrinks and to be under constant watch becomes a hassle. It made your stomach churn to think about it, to let him slip away and move on. And there was the option to let the world know the truth, but Jason lived a life in the shadows, he wasn’t supposed to be a face associated with you. He was hidden under a mess of hair and dark sunglasses. He had friends or family, you never really knew, that help operate his business away from the public eye. Your family hired him to be a ghost to haunt and protect you for some time. Till the contract ended and the final payment was dealt. You knew you couldn’t ask Jason to stay, there was a fear that money was his true motivation for all of this. That once that ended so did every bond he had with you.

So, you stayed awake. You laid there with sleep in your eyes and listened to the creak of the floorboards betraying his quiet step. And you rolled over once he nudged the door open, inviting him with a silent smile. Jason obliged in a lazy manner, falling into bed and sighing long and heavy. You moved to rest your head on his shoulder, kissing the warm skin there. Jason’s arm curled around you, fingertips brushing over the skin he could reach. You wasted no time letting sleep drag itself over you, inviting you into the deepest place of make belief, where your mind could run rampant with all the fantasies of a life shared, of early morning kisses and long hugs goodbye as you both ventured to jobs, of a house instead of a condo and a dog that Jason would name something you rolled your eyes at. It was all easy to pretend in the dead of sleep, in the place of dreams where anything was made possible.

Even love.

[justlookfrightened]

2: "close the door" and 25: "I want an answer goddamn it!" With zimbits ;3

Jack closed the door and let his bag slide from his shoulder to the floor.

The condo was quiet, with one lamp left on in the living room and the light over the kitchen sink still burning. So Bits was here, somewhere.

But there was no smell of maple or cinnamon, no music playing from the bathroom or bedroom. He was probably already asleep.

Jack turned off the light in the living room. He paused in the kitchen to fill a glass with water and drink it.

As he sipped, he considered. He could wake Bitty. He could strip out of his clothes and slip into bed naked, crowd up behind Bitty and pull him close. Bitty would scrunch up his face, push that round little butt into Jack’s groin … this plan was sounding better and better, at least to some parts of Jack.

And if Bitty mumbled, “‘M sleeping, Jack,” Jack could tell him that they could sleep in tomorrow, and stroke Bitty’s belly in the way that he liked, use his lips and his hands to remind Bitty how much they liked being in bed together.

But if Bitty pulled away again, said, “No, Jack. I’m tired. I need to sleep. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow,” Jack would be left keyed up and lonely. And feeling like a demanding prick for waking his boyfriend in the middle of the night.

But Bitty had stayed up to watch the game. He’d texted Jack when it was over, congratulating the Falcs on their win. He hadn’t made it to see the game in person like Jack had been hoping, but Bitty had plenty on his own plate. Jack wasn’t sure what, exactly, delayed him today, but Bitty hadn’t made it to the arena for the game. Instead, Jack got a text before warmups that Bitty would watching from the condo.

Jack left his glass in the sink and crept into the bedroom, getting ready for bed as quietly as possible.

Bitty got up before Jack the next morning and was gone by the time Jack got out of the shower.

Bitty poked his head into the bathroom before he left, saying, “I’m pretty tied up the rest of the week, but I can come down Saturday after our game,” Bitty said.

Jack had grunted his agreement before ducking his head under the nozzle to rinse the shampoo out of his hair.

Later, he wondered how Bitty would get to Providence late on Saturday night. He still didn’t have a car of his own, and buses and trains weren’t scheduled that late. Was he planning on getting a ride-share? But Bitty usually didn’t want to spend that much of his money on a ride, and he hadn’t asked Jack about using his account.

And Jack would have to leave for the training facility by 9 a.m. Sunday, ahead of leaving on a four-day road trip. Maybe it wasn’t worth it for Bitty to make the trip. Then Jack could come home, collapse into bed and sleep until eight.

But if Jack suggested that, maybe Bitty’s feelings would be hurt.

Jack was waiting when Bitty logged on to connect their Skype call that evening.

After going over their days (Jack’s practice had gone well, Bitty was pleased with a B on his anthropology essay), Jack tried to broach the question gently.

“Um, if you come Saturday night, how were you planning to get here?” Jack said. “There’s no trains or buses then, right?”

“I’ve got it taken care of,” Bitty said.

“You can use my Uber account,” Jack said. 

“Oh, I couldn’t do that, sweet pea,” Bitty said. “Don’t want to get hooked on it, you know? I’d be going back and forth five days a week.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Jack asked.

Bitty did come to Providence on Saturday, arriving at Jack’s door, only a little flustered and out of breath, just minutes after Jack arrived home. They collapsed into bed together, traded quick hand jobs and fell asleep. Bitty wasn’t up yet when Jack left.

They managed to connect on Skype twice over the road trip. The Falconers were home the next weekend, but the Wellies had a game in Boston, and Bitty was going to busy with his team.

Which was okay, Jack thought. When he was captain of the Wellies, his entire life was focused on the team. Except for the part he devoted to academics, but even that was in service to the team; he couldn’t play if he didn’t maintain good academic standing. But everything else, including his social life, had revolved around SMH. Of course Bitty needed time to spend with the team.

Jack remembered what it had been like, before he graduated and went pro. When he had a small bedroom with a shared bathroom in a falling-down house instead of a three-bedroom luxury condo where he lived alone, most of the time.

Where threats to his diet plan were more Hot Pockets than dinners in expensive steakhouses. And pie, but that hadn’t changed.

Where if he needed company, all he had to do was go sit in the kitchen while he studied, instead of calling someone and making plans. And where if he needed to be alone, he had to hole up with his door closed and headphones on instead of just … be.

Where he’d fallen in love with a boy whom he still thought of as sunshine personified, whose warmth drew the team close and made Jack feel that maybe, just maybe, a relationship was something he could have. That Bitty’s warmth would be enough to overcome the ice that ran in Jack’s veins.

“No Bitty today?” Tater asked, plopping on the couch next to Jack in the players’ lounge. “He hasn;t been to a game in a while.”

“No,” Jack said. “He has a game in Boston tonight and team bonding time tomorrow. Not enough pie for you?”

Tater shrugged.

“I’m not going to ask him to make one to send you,” Jack said. “He’s busy enough.”

“”Busy?” Tater snorted. “You keep him busy, right?”

Jack just rolled his eyes, but when Tater got up to get water, his mind wandered to what Bitty’s experience of captaining the Wellies was like, especially when he was trying to spend time with Jack. It wasn’t something he’d honestly thought much about. He’d just assumed that since Bitty was in the position Jack had been in two years earlier, it was pretty much the same.

But Bitty was forever trying to balance his schedule with Jack’s. And Bitty … well, he had a harder time focusing on his studies, so classes in general were harder. A long-term project like his thesis was a real challenge. And while Bitty was no doubt a talented hockey player, he wasn’t NHL-ready like Jack had been; he couldn’t just tell the team how they should play and let his skills do the talking.

No wonder Bitty had seemed so busy lately. Jack had tried not to resent it (or at least not to share his resentment with Bitty), but Bitty probably knew. He probably was spending more time with team because he had to, but maybe he was enjoying time there more? With people who knew how awful the dining hall enchiladas were last night, and lived in fear of what new drill Murray would dream up, and would keep him company in the Haus kitchen while he spun between his homework on the table and the pie in the oven?

Maybe one of those people was special to him.

The thought crept into Jack’s mind unbidden. But once it was there, it curled up and settled in.

Jack could see how it would happen. Maybe it was just because of how he fell for Bitty, but he remembered the kitchen at the Haus with almost a magical glow. Of course other guys on the team had crushes on Bitty; if a guy liked guys, who wouldn’t? And Bitty was always most relaxed and most open when he was surrounded by the scent of butter and sugar and cinnamon. If there was someone who was always there, helpful and friendly and available? Unlike his boyfriend, who was distant (literally, as well as emotionally sometimes) and cold? Who took him away from his warm kitchen and comfortable home – and his team and school responsibilities – just to fall into bed and sleep?

Fuck. Was Jack a bad boyfriend? 

Jack skated through warmups and texted Bitty just before going out to take the ice.

Good luck tonight. I love you. Let me know when I can talk with you tomorrow.

Then he locked those thoughts in a box. The Falconers had a game to win.

When the game was over, he had three missed calls and a text from Bitty.

I’ll be back at the Haus by 3

Jack called Shitty.

“Do you think Bitty is happy?”

“Wait up a sec, Jack-o,” Shitty said. “Are we talking right this minute? Because BC beat the Wellies 3-2 and Dex had to leave the game with a suspected concussion, so just tonight, probably not. In general? With you? Yeah, I think so. What brought this on?”

“I just wondered,” Jack said. “I wondered if maybe he likes someone else. Because he’s not coming down as much as he used to.”

“Jacky, he’s busy,” Shitty said. “He’s a senior in college and captain of the hockey team.”

“I know,” Jack said. “And it’s not like I have lots of time to support him.”

“But cheating on you? That’s a big step to take,” Shitty said. “You seriously think he’d do that?”

“Maybe not cheating on me, exactly,” Jack said. “Just, I think about him in the Haus, baking, and someone sitting at the table and talking to him and him dancing around in his little gym shorts …”

“And now I know more than I need to about how you fell for him,” Shitty said. “I mean, yeah, sure, he has friends in the Haus. Of course he does. You weren’t the only one who used to hang in the kitchen, y’know?”

“I know,” Jack said. “And a couple of weeks ago, he came down and he never told me how he got here. What if he got a ride with someone? Who drives someone to a place an hour away at midnight on a Saturday?”

“To see their boyfriend? Not usually their other boyfriend,” Shitty said. “Unless, you know, that’s the way they roll.”

“He was all hurried and flustered.”

“Because he wanted some hot hockey lovin’?” Shitty suggested.

“There really wasn’t much of that.”

“Okay,” Shitty said. “I think you know the answer, right? You have to talk to him, because there’s no way I can convince you he’s madly in love with you.”

“I know,” Jack said. “I asked when he’d be home tomorrow.”

“What did he say?”

“That he’d be home at 3,” Jack said. “Eight words. No ‘I love you.’ No emojis.”

“It’s late,” Shitty said. “They had a sucky game.”

“I know.”

The next day, Jack pulled up in front of the Haus at 2:57. Dex opened the door to his knock.

“How’re you feeling?” Jack asked. “Your head okay? Or should you be resting?”Dex shrugged.

“Hurts a little,” he said. “But I should be okay in a few days. Bitty’s upstairs if you’re looking for him.”

Which was unusual in itself. He was usually in the kitchen if he was awake.

Jack headed upstairs. Bitty’s door was open, but he wasn’t there, so Jack took a seat in the desk chair in front of where Bitty’s laptop was set up on his desk. Maybe he was trying to get his writing done?Jack was looking at the blank screen when he heard Bitty come in behind him, still drying his hands.

“Jack, you’re here!” Bitty said. “I thought you wanted to talk on Skype!”

“No, we really need to talk,” Jack said. “Close the door.”

Bitty did, then sat on the bed, near Jack. He patted the mattress next to him.

“Want to sit over here, sweet pea?”

“I’m fine here,” Jack said.

Bitty’s smile faded.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Us,” Jack said. “You, I guess.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Bitty said.

“I just realized that you don’t seem to be coming to Providence as much,” Jack said. “And you’re busy so much, and I don’t know what you’re doing – like how you got to Providence last time.”

“I wasn’t aware you had to know all my movements,” Bitty said, and now he sounded annoyed. “Especially when you’re on the road with your boys half the season.”

“I don’t need to know everything,” Jack said. “But is there something important you’re not telling me?”

“Like what?”

“Someone else you’re not telling me about?”

“What?” Bitty said. “They only people I see are you, the team, and sometimes the other captains. Oh, and my professors. I am doing my best to hold it all together here, Jack, even when I see photos of you and hot guys all over the country, so I’d appreciate you going easy on the accusations.”

Hot guys? What?

“We were on the team together,” Jack said. “Is there someone you like? Are you happy with me?”

“Bless your heart, sweetpea, you’d best stop before you accuse me of cheating on you,” Bitty said.

“I’m not accusing, I’m asking,” Jack said. “Because I feel like maybe you need more than I’ve been giving you, and if you want out, I’d like to know.”

“What?” Bitty was looking at Jack blankly.

“I want an answer, goddammit!” Jack said. “Do you want to keep dating me?”“I should be asking you that question,” Bitty said. “I know I’m not much compared to the guys you’re on the ice with every night, but the shirtless pics are a bit much.”

Shirtless?“You mean the ones from Dallas?” Jack said. “You know I’ve known Tyler for ever. He was having people on an off day, and we were by the pool. I didn’t know anyone posted pictures.”

“You never post pictures with me,” Bitty said.

“Because I want our private life to be private,” Jack said. “But I didn’t even think of that as private. There were like a dozen people there.”

Jack took a breath and tried to think about what Bitty had said, and what he actually meant.

“And you’re hotter than any of them,” he said. “Really. Which is why you could be dating anyone you wanted, and like half a dozen guys on your team probably have crushes on you. But if you say there’s nothing going, I believe you. Even if I don’t believe you teleported to Providence.”

“I borrowed Dex’s truck,” Bitty said. “Once he believed I could drive it. But it was nearly impossible finding a parking space big enough. I didn’t even realize I didn’t tell you. Were you working it up into a big thing?”

Jack nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just been so long since we had any real time together.”

“No, I’m sorry I made you think I was keeping secrets,” Bitty said. “And we’re together now.”

He got up and pulled the bedclothes back.

“What do you say to a midafternoon nap?”

Jack stood up.

“Sounds good,” he said. “But come here. Let’s post a selfie first.”

[shslstraws]

Hello! Hope your days going well, I’ve been looking around and see your ✨beautiful art✨, and I curious to see your ideas/headcanons of your dr ships? I always like to see people’s interpretations of them^.^ (also your valid for top Saihara cuz I’m a Power-bottom Ouma enthusiast and-)

Hello! My day(s) have being going wonderful, thank you for asking! I hope you are doing well too, thank you very much for this ?? Like I’ve always wanted to discuss my ideas and headcanons, so thanks for this,, a blessing,, 

I’m one hell of a multi-shipper but I’ll discuss my big damn ships. WHICH IS TWO, I REALIZED JUST WRITING ONE OF THESE, I WROTE SO MUCH THAT I CAN’T EVEN WRITE ABOUT MY TOP 5. SO HAVE TOP 2 

Oumota (my fav ship)

Reading some of golden-redhead’s fic; Nobody Said It Was Easy (one of my fav Oumota fics btw), I do like to confirm that Kokichi and Kaito moved into an apartment with each other. Basically, vr au, just started to live with each other due to the fact that they let each other see with their masks down at the end, and they seem to grow an understanding of each other. They eventually become friends then to lovers, I always love that trope. 

Kokichi bought a galaxy printed blanket for Kaito, on his birthday, and he thinks it’s an eyesore sometimes. But the look on Kaito’s face when Kokichi spots him snuggle up with it, Kokichi doesn’t ever regret buying it. (Kaito just really thinks of Kokichi when he snuggles up in the blanket btw, I drew them in the blanket actually!)

For a loooong while, Kokichi suffered from ptsd nightmares when they first moved in, Kaito just couldn’t leave him like that?? He invites Kokichi to like,, sleep with him in his bed, after a month of living together, and Kokichi just teases him. But he silently goes in that night, Kaito finds out in the morning, since he wakes up early, but says nothing of it for the both of them. (It just becomes a habit) 

Kaito is actually afraid of loud noises? Like, REALLY loud noises. Due to ptsd triggers to the loud slam of the press and the awful noises that was also with it. Thunderstorms are the worst. Kokcihi notices this and feels kinda lost, he doesn’t know what to do but wants to help. Kaito tries to keep it together during these times, but Kokichi can see right through him. At first, he’d try to joke around and tease at him, just to make Kaito feel normal and back to reality. It eventually doesn’t work and Kaito is stuck in that moment of time, so Kokichi silently starts forming circles on his hand to keep him grounded. Just like how Kokichi goes to Kaito’s bed after a nightmare, this becomes a habit and they say nothing of it. 

They don’t say anything to each other about these acts of kindness bc they don’t know how to react to it? Maybe still in the mindset that they HAVE to hate each other. But they get over it, and once in a relationship; Kokichi begins to make small talk as he rubs circles in Kaito’s hand. And, of course, they both decided to finally sleep in the same bed instead of separate beds in separate rooms. 

Of course, they tease each other and pick at each other everyday. But since they started dating, it’s just more in a loving matter?? Although Kokichi will be like, “ewww, Momota-chan is trying to flirt with me, disgusting” 

For my version of a VR AU,,, I kinda want to go a different route for Kokichi; career wise. I love seeing fitting jobs for him in fics like, actor and such. Excellent ideas and I love them! But I want to be different bc IDK I JUST DO BE LIKE THAT. And wanna make Kokichi a psychologist? Just once he recovers from his trauma, and helps Kaito deal with his, he just feels like he can be good at it? Which was laughable when he first told Kaito, but then he saw Kokichi was serious and was like, “oh shit, you’re dead set on this.” And Kaito becomes proud of him, so supports him through it. Kokichi is still a little shit but only to those that are not his patients, of course. 

I actually did concept art of Kokichi as a psychologist, since I got a request to have my take on older Oumota, I’ve been putting so much work into the concept so then I can make the perfect drawing, but here’s psychologist!Kokichi 

Yes, he gets glasses. He was so whiny about it when Kaito found out Kokichi’s sight wasn’t the best as it was before. So after FORCING him to go to an eye doctor, Kokichi pouted when he got his first pair. Kaito just found it cute. He normally wears contacts though, only wear glasses, “to look professional”, even then, he doesn’t wear them as much. HE REALLY DOESN’T WANT ANYONE ELSE KNOWING HE WEARS GLASSES. He hates them. Kaito gets very excited when he sees his boyfriend with them; he took a picture when Kokichi didn’t notice until the picture was taken, and the doof left the flash on, so Kokichi chased him around the apartment demanding him to delete it. And Kaito is laughing and having his phone in the air high so he can’t reach it. (But Kokichi eventually gets it off his phone, from a surprise kiss) 

Although Kaito HATES being what the game made him to be and what he thought everyone expected him to be, he was afraid to even consider to pursue being an astronaut for real. He was afraid that he fully lost himself if he were to “give in”. But he learns that he wants to be an astronaut, not because of the false memories given, but because he wants to in this life. His life. His decision. 

Both study hard in university when pursuing their chosen careers, both procrastinate a lot. But eventually one or the other will try and get them back to work. Or if Kaito is working too hard, Kokichi will try and lighten him up and get him to take a break. Very rarely, Kaito will have to do the the same with Kokichi. 

OH MY GOD OKAY, NOW ONTO THE OTHER SHIP 

Saioumota 

Shuichi basically had a crush on both of them, he didn’t know how to even confess. NONE OF THEM DID BC THEY’RE MESSES. 

So, going off VR AU again, afterwards Kaito just decides that they all are going to live together. And Shuichi was okay with that, Kokichi was like, “haha okay, since you can’t seem to get enough of me” but was honestly relieved inside that he had somewhere to go. 

Few months were awkward for Kokichi, especially since Shuichi and Kaito started dated. He just felt like “the third wheel” and wanted to move out, but he had no where to go. So he was in this cycle in his mind for awhile. 

Shuichi tries multiple of times to get Kokichi to join them on many occasions, but again, Kokichi didn’t want to be that third wheel. 

Kaito DOES have feelings for both Shuichi and Kokichi, but was most unsure,for the longest time, about how he felt with Kokichi. It took Shuichi’s talks to finally get him to understand and comes to terms, damn, he’s also in love with this rat. 

It was when Kokichi didn’t come home for about a week, that Kaito confessed when he just suddenly came back. Of course, he was shouted at  Kokichi and they got in an argument, and just everything that was buried blew up there and then. Shuichi just comforted them both after the argument with his gentleness. 

They ALL just started dated afterwards, although it was hard for Kaito and Kokichi to become closer. Kokichi easily warmed up to Shuichi first, since he just always felt closer to the detective? He was just on edge for awhile about if Kaito’s feelings were true. But he warmed up to him eventually. 

For a long while, Shuichi would be middle spoon (haha) since Kokichi’s and Kaito’s uncertainty. But once Kokichi warmed up to Momota, he just scooted himself between the two of them during one of their cuddling sessions. Kaito looked dumbfounded and then looked at Shuichi like he just earned the trust of a stray cat. Like, “LOOK, SHUICHI, HE’S TRUSTING ME” silently with a big dumb smile. 

After then, Kokichi loves being the centre of attention for both of them. He loves being middle spoon but also let’s Shuichi be middle too bc he loves cuddle him. 

Their usual dates are to a nearby park, mainly if they need a breather from any stress, one of them will suggest or just force them to go to the park. And they all know that it means that they just want to the best for each other. 

Shuichi is usually the one to come home and find a mess of the apartment from Kaito and Kokichi. And gives them a “really?” look as they point fingers at each other. 

Kaito eventually gets a job, Shuichi was the first to get a job to support them, but that left Kokichi alone. And he was so clingy when they got back, he demanded SO MUCH ATTENTION once they came home. And whined about being bored all day without them. 

When they all have their bad day, they just cuddle up together and take a nap and just relax. Although Kaito will be the one to try and cheer them up later in the night by stargazing. 

Shuichi loves talking about the novels he reads to his boyfriends even though they don’t know what he’s talking about most of the time or understand, Shuichi knows but really appreciate them just taking interest in something so small. It means so much to him. 

Kokichi is the last one to wake up in the morning, and Shuichi and Kaito always debate to wake him up before they go to work. He’ll whine if he doesn’t get a goodbye from them and he’ll whine just out of grouchiness of being woken up. So it’s always flip a coin and it’s always, “it’s your turn, Shuichi” “Kaito, it was my turn yesterday” 

SURPRISE THEY GET MARRIED AND MOVE INTO A NICE HOUSE LATER. And they also get a dog,, 

AND THAT’S THAT, IM SO SORRY BUT HERE’S ALL MY HEADCANONS, TAKE ‘EM 

[sunriseskog]

comethru- Auston Matthews

Request: n/a this was entirely self induglent bc im sad and ive had comethru by Jermey Zucker stuck in my head for weeks

Word Count: 2,267

Warnings: cursing, angst, dudes being assholes, mentions of tr*ding auston

A/N: ive been on hiatus for a long ass time so any feedback is more than welcome!!!! also i am fully aware that i used this gift for my last post but its hot and i dont care

It had been a little over a month since Auston left. No… that’s not quite right. It had been a little over a month since Auston left Toronto. It had been just barely under a month since you had left Auston.

You weren’t entirely sure who the trade surprised more, but you did know for a fact that it had had a far greater effect on you than it had on Auston.

He had remained optimistic in the beginning. After all, Buffalo is barely a 2-hour drive on a bad day. On a good day, he could probably make it in an hour and a half. But the two of you had quickly reached the conclusion that either of you driving 4+ hours a day wasn’t practical, and it wasn’t fair to whoever drew the short end of the stick, pun intended. You knew he would never ask you to move for him, hell even moving in together had been a stretch for you, but you also knew that there was an unspoken expectation that eventually the both of you would relocate closer to the arena.

Before he had even reached the border, you had managed to convince yourself that this short distance relationship would cripple your relationship before you could even begin filling out the US immigration forms to move with him, let alone actually convince yourself to do it. So you backed off. You knew that trying to exhaust what was left of the relationship would only end up destroying you the both of you more than was necessary, so you let go. You knew it wouldn’t take him long to pick up on the fact that you were becoming distant, taking longer to respond to texts, barely calling him back and conveniently timing your responses with the specific intention of him not being able to pick up. You may have been stupid, but you sure as hell weren’t subtle. You knew that as long you were the bad guy in the scenario, it wouldn’t take him nearly as long to get over you, and as long as you remained in control of the situation, you knew that you’d come out of the tail end of things perfectly fine.

And you were. You were absolutely, positively fine. But that was all you were. You weren’t good or great or doing well, you were just… fine. You were off-kilter, sure, but you were surviving, and that was honestly all you had come to ask of yourself. You were sure that the other shoe would drop soon enough, you had ridden the high and now you were at the plateau, but the comedown seemed to always be lurking around the corner.

One too many sleepless nights in a row had come to significantly impact your sleeping schedule. It had gotten to the point where your boss had come to expect your work day to end at 5 am instead of 5 pm. It was nice, though. To see the city when it felt like no one else could. To have your whole day to yourself, even though it was technically night. Everything was much quieter, and there were moments where it felt like you might be the only person in the entire city to be awake, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You rarely interacted with anyone, you didn’t even wake up until hours after the last of your coworkers had left the building, and every errand you had to run could be completed via the self-checkout of the 24 hr supermarket a few blocks away from your apartment building. You weren’t lonely by any means, you just so happened to be alone.

Except on game nights. You were never alone on game nights. Luckily, there weren’t very many Toronto residents that enjoyed watching one of their franchise players play in a different teams jersey, but you still couldn’t help but punish yourself by watching his games whenever they were on at the sports bar you frequented. You told yourself that as long as someone else put the game on, and as long as you left with someone new before the game was over, then it wasn’t nearly as pathetic as it seemed.

An issue arose the first time Toronto played the Sabres. You hadn’t checked the schedule, you just knew that there was a game. You also knew that if you were ever alone when a game was on you would curl up with far too much ice cream and a borderline dangerous amount of rum, neither of which were ideal. Immediately upon entering the bar, you knew that it was far too crowded for there to not be a Leafs game on, it was nowhere near baseball season, and the sea of blue jerseys couldn’t be for any other team. An involuntary wince consumed your face as Auston’s name reached your ears, it seemed like every congregation of fans in the entire establishment were talking about him, and a cursory glance at the nearest screen confirmed your fears.

The bad news was that if you stayed, you would have to watch Auston play, which was bound to be painful for any Leafs fan, but this one would hurt you just a little more than all the others— the knowledge that he was just across the city weighed heavily on your shoulders as you pushed through the crowd to find an empty stool somewhere. The worse news was that there was no way in hell a single guy in here would be willing to leave before the game was over, so you’d either have to watch all of it and then fuck the feelings away, or go home and watch all of it and probably end up crying for a majority of the third period. The former seemed like a more viable option at the time.

Now, though? You wished you had just gone home. Because it turns out you were wrong, there was a dude at the bar who was willing to leave before the end, as it would turn out, he was ready to leave before the second period was halfway through. That should have been your first red flag.

In your defense, you had a lot of other shit going on, and your brain was far too preoccupied coping with the stress that the game was bringing to consider the fact that the nice guy who had been paying for your drinks might not turn out to be that nice after all.

On the cab ride back to your apartment, you found out that his name was Sam and he was a lifelong Leafs fan. The two of you bonded over having grown up around hockey without actually playing it, and you even shared a cigarette at the entrance of your building’s lobby. It wasn’t until the two of you stepped into your living room that things took a turn for the worse.

The framed and signed Matthews jersey on the mantle had been more of a joke than anything else, all of your friends thought it was funny while the two of you were together, and you hadn’t had anyone over since the breakup, so you hadn’t found a reason to convince yourself to take it down. The look of disgust on Sam’s face as soon as he laid eyes on it would have been a fairly convincing reason if you actually gave a shit what he thought about you.

“That’s borderline sacrilege,” he commented, gesturing towards the display. You shot him an incredulous look, waiting for him to give any indication that he was making a joke.

“What?” You questioned, not really confused, just wanting to clarify if he was saying. What you thought he was saying.

“You can’t seriously call yourself a leafs fan and still support that guy! He’s a traitor,” He asserted. His over passionate gesturing indicated that he was genuinely this invested in the topic, which should have been your second red flag.

“I mean c’mon, (Y/N),” He continued. “You’re not stupid, are you?”

You couldn’t help but scoff at how pretentious and condescending he was being, without seeming to realize that he was acting like an absolute prick.

“I can assure you, Samuel,” You drawled sarcastically. “I am anything but stupid, but you have got to be absolutely moronic if you genuinely believe that I’m going to let you fuck me after speaking to me like I'm a goddamn child. Your kinks are your business but that's not really my style,” you sneered as you moved towards the doorway in order to invite him to throw himself out so you didn’t have to bother touching him any more than you already had.

“Now why don’t you get the fuck out of my house, dick head,” You spoke as your lip curled and your brow quirked, gesturing through the doorway to drive the point through his thick skull.

“Gladly,” He scoffed, slamming his shoulder into yours as he stepped past you. “Not like I’d want to fuck a whore like you anyways!” He shouted over his should as he started towards the stairs.

“Open your mouth that wide again and I’m gonna have to ask you to chortle my cock, Samuel” You responded, giving a middle finger to his back for your own satisfaction. You had never been one to censor your insults, and over the years they had become more and more lewd. This, of course, had never really presented itself as a problem until you caught the eye of your neighbor as you turned to storm back inside of your apartment. You couldn’t help but wince apologetically at the old woman, giving her a repentant head nod as you shuffled back inside.

You let your back hit the inside of the door, sliding roughly down until your tailbone hit the hardwood floor beneath your feet. Of course, the first substantial interaction you had in over a month would turn out to be a spectacular disaster. And of course, it was because of Auston. Realistically, you knew it wasn’t his fault, you just really really needed someone else to blame right now. You carded your fingers through your scalp roughly, and let out an elongated groan in the hopes that it would satisfy the overwhelming urge that you had had to scream at the top of your lungs for the past month or so.

As you stared at your own intertwined fingers in an attempt to calm yourself down, you couldn’t help but notice that your fingers were shaking. This wasn’t a recent development by any means, but this was the first time that you had noticed it being this aggressive. It usually only happened when you had coffee, which was why you had abstained from it for a majority of your life. As you looked back on what your routine had become, you realized that through all the late nights and later mornings, you had been popping caffeine pills and ordering espressos far more than the ‘one-time thing’ you told yourself it was. The realization that your life had done a complete 180 in the span of 5 weeks began to weigh on you, and it seemed like your mind was consumed entirely by flurries of memories of bad habits you had fallen back into and the lifeless moments you had spent floundering, convincing yourself that you were fine on your own, despite the fact that that was anything but the truth.

It didn’t take very long to find his contact picture in your recent messages. You hadn’t had much of a reason to talk to that many people lately. It took longer to open up the message thread, trying to prepare yourself to view the unbearably awkward finality of your most recent messages to each other. The preview underneath his name only served as a painful reminder that the last time he had texted you was to say that he loved you. And you hadn’t said it back.

You weren’t sure if he was going to respond, hell you went sure he was even going to read it. For all you knew it was entirely within the realm of possibility that he had blocked you a while ago. You knew exactly what to say, surprisingly, that wasn’t the hard part. Of the few letters that you typed, the closer you got to reaching out to him again seemed to calm you down more and more. By the time you tacked on the question mark at the end, your fingers had stopped trembling for there first time in what you could assume had been at least a couple of weeks. You let your phone drop to the floor as soon as you hit send, either he would be here within the hour or his response wouldn’t be worth reading. Those were the only options on the table. Either he was going to come and the two of you were going to get to be okay for a little while, or it truly was the end. If that was the case then you really didn’t want to see what he had to say. You heard your phone vibrate from where it laid just a couple feet away, and as much as the desire consumed you, you couldn’t bring yourself to move to see what it said. So you sat there, and waited to see if you would be able to hear those oh so familiar footsteps ascending your staircase again, responding to your oh so familiar request.

‘come thru?’

[lexiconomine]

summer lovin’ - billy hargrove

summary: despite nancy’s best attempts, you poke and prod until you score a date with the talk of the town word count: 6,771 pairing: billy x reader warnings: explicit language, sex, oral sex, cigarette use (only by Billy), excessive pet name use notes: reupload bc I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED the entire text block trying to edit the tags :( I hope this finds its way back into people’s sights o o f anyway I hope y’all enjoy pt2!

It’s not that you don’t know how to swim, or even that you aren’t a good swimmer. In fact, you were one of the best on your high school team back home. But your mission here wasn’t just to swim a couple of laps. No, it was to scope out this new guy in town that everyone and their mother are always talking about. The one you’d only ever had an up-close interaction with one other time.

He was right in front of you in the line to the drugstore counter, buying a pack of Marlboro Reds and a bottle of Coke. The smell of his cologne highly overpowered any memory you have of that day, but you’re able to recall noticing his curls and the low drawl of his voice. You’d not made eye contact with him until he turned around to leave, and he flashed you a sly smirk as he gave you a painfully slow once-over. You watched as he walked out the door, doing the same for him.

And in that one small interaction, you felt as if any effort you took to breathe afterward were futile.

“I’m telling you right now, you do not wanna get involved with that,” Nancy protested to you once before when you brought him up that same day, combing through her permed hair in front of her vanity. “I’ve never even interacted with him and even I know he’s had sex with half the girls in your class.”

“Uh-huh…”

“He was literally there for less than a year.”

You decided to hold any response you had. A short moment of silence passed before Nancy started up again, a gentler tone than the one she held in her previous statements.

“It’s just… you miss a lot when you leave right before Hawkins goes to shit.”

At this point, during peak summer season, you still don’t know what it is, exactly, that drew you so strongly toward Billy Hargrove; but you’re really not sure whether or not you want to find out. You know it’s not the obvious fact that he’s a huge flirt to even the fact that he is so gorgeous in every way imaginable. Perhaps it’s the way all of your childhood friends who had stayed behind keep telling you to stay away, that he’s nothing but trouble; and hearing that over and over began to make you realize that you want to be the judge of that.

And maybe that’s way you’re making it a point to send the most intense gaze his way every time you locked eyes during his scans. You’re trying so hard to provoke him. It’s a notion, a siren’s call to him, which you can tell he’s acknowledging by the that he slides his tongue along his bottom lip, the slightest hint of a smile forming, before placing his whistle between his teeth and repeating his scan.

Now that you can tell you’ve gotten his attention, you slide your sunglasses back onto your face to continue watching him more discreetly, lying back against the lounge chair. You notice a subtle pause in Billy’s movement, and you let the feeling of triumph wash over you as he begins to climb down from his lifeguard stand.

Hook.

You watch as he makes his way over to you, quite nonchalantly and with an arrogant air.

“Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but uh,” he starts up the moment he gets within your vicinity, “something tells me you’re here for more than just a tan.”

You swing your legs over to one side so that you can sit up facing him, looking up and meeting his gaze. Amused, you decide to entertain. “And so what if I am?”

“Well, that’d really be a shame, sweetheart. ‘Cause I’m stuck here ’til six.” Billy grows a flirty smile, the very one that you’d been warned about by just about every girl she knew from Hawkins High.

Line.

“I got time,” is the snarky response you had been waiting to say to him, confident that two can play at this game he loves to play.

It seems as if Billy is taken aback to this, letting loose a soft chuckle as his eyebrows cock upward, lower lip catching between his teeth to help suppress the laugh. God, those lips.

“Alright,” he nods, seemingly impressed that you decided to match the energy he exuded. His smile has the ability to make anyone weak at the knees. He crouches down to your eye level and leans in close—so close that you can feel the tension between the two of you thicken the moment his lips just barely graze your ear. It is at this moment that he speaks into your ear, low and gruff. “Hope you brought somethin’ pretty for me.”

…And sinker.

And with a wink, he straightens himself up, turns around, and begins making his next round of the pool deck.

Despite the apparent disappointed glares you can feel radiating from Nancy and Jonathan, you hoist yourself up from your seat with a cheeky smile, setting all your unwettables down in your wake. They can think whatever it is that they’re thinking. You can already tell that you are very likely to experience a fun night. They should be happy that you’re meeting new people instead of lounging around in the Wheeler basement eating all their food and sleeping the day away until Nancy returns from work (which, spoiler alert, most of the time she doesn’t).

“I have a date,” you taunt before making your way to one of the pool lanes and diving in headfirst to swim a couple of laps.

*****

“You know, it’s not too late to bail,” Nancy coaxes at a low volume with the mentality that somehow she was saving her best friend from corruption. However, this statement is only met with a scoff followed by a light giggle.

“Relax, Nance. I’m a big girl who can take care of herself. Swear it.”

Right on cue, you and Nancy both stuck your pinkies out and interlaced them, holding them that way for a beat.

“Please call if you need me to come get you.”

“Will do, boss.”

With that, you parted ways, and you watch as Nancy plops down into the passenger’s seat of Jonathan’s car. As they drive away, a low whistle creeps up behind you.

“Got a hot date?”

You turn on your heel to find Billy leant up against the wall, curls looking gorgeous as ever and his low-buttoned top being the cherry on top of the cake that is this beautiful specimen. Placing your hands on your hips and shifting all your weight to your left leg, you flash him a teasing smile. “Well, wouldn’t you like to know?”

Billy reaches into the pocket of his denim jacket and pulls out a Marlboro cigarette along with his zippo lighter. As he saunters over to you, his sticks the cig in his mouth and lights it, taking a light puff from it to get the tobacco burning.

“What do you say we ditch ‘im, huh?” He suggests, playing into the typical good girl with bad boy situation where he steals the innocent you from your high school sweetheart and shows you what a good time really is. Taking a long drag from his cigarette, he continues after he removes it and holds it between his pointer and middle finger, light clouds forming around his mouth and dissipating after less than a second. “Why don’t I show show you how a real man’s suppose to treat a doll like yourself.”

The smile on your face turns into something soft and sultry as you step toward him, closing the gap between the two of you. You press your chest up against his warm body, fingers barely grazing over his waistline. Watching as his tongue pokes out to glide along his lips, you speak, smooth and coy. “I’d like a movie.”

The rugged blonde raises his free hand up to you face, takes a stray strand of your hair, and tucks it behind your ear, leaving an excited burning sensation along your cheek. “Movie it is.”

Taking another drag from his cigarette, Billy begins to lead the way to his car, sliding his right arm around your waist to allow himself a firm grasp on your hip and using his left to smoke his cig. As you reach his car, he crosses in front of you to open the passenger door, allowing you to sit. You mutter a quick word of thanks before he shuts the door for you and enters himself. Once the car is started, there’s a brief moment where he eyes you once more and smiles to himself as he turns his attention ahead of him, murmuring, “So fuckin’ pretty.”

The car ride is casual, the both of you making nice small talk and flirting every couple of minutes. Compliments are exchanged, laughs are had; it is so much more comfortable than she expected. There’s much less pressure. But once you arrive at the mall, it seems as if date mode has officially turned on. Billy insists on paying for your tickets and popcorn because “What kind of date is this if I let you pay for your own things?” It is surprisingly very gentlemanly of him.

During the movie, though, is when it gets interesting. You’d both decided to watch the horror film that had just come out (for the plot, of course); and Billy wastes no time draping his arm around your shoulders, subconsciously toying with the ends of your hair while you watched on. About halfway through the in, though, the movie soon becomes background noise to the low chatters and whispers between you two.

“Not gonna lie, this movie could be nice if I wasn’t so distracted,” Billy begins, leaning his head closer to you so that you’re able to hear his words. Once he brings his head back to its previous position, you mirror his gesture to speak.

“Lemme guess, my fault?” You tease, feeling like you already know his tricks before he even uses them. The young man beside you lets out a light snort of laughter, nodding as if to indicate he’d been figured out. Although you already have an inkling of his next move, by God, was it fun to play along. “How so?”

Billy turns his head to look at the side your face, adjusting his body so that he can comfortably do so. You meet his gaze once you notice that he’d started to shift a bit, admiring how he still manages to look so good even in the shallow lighting coming from the movie screen. Darting out his tongue to wet his lips, he tested you, “You really wanna know, princess?”

“Try me.”

A small, flirty grin creeps onto his face, and he opens his mouth so as to speak, but his mouth looks like it’s moved before his brain. He takes a breath in and reveals himself. “To be completely honest with you, I’ve been thinkin’ about kissing you all day.”

Your breath immediately catches in your throat. You’re quite surprised to hear those words come out of that mouth. In a way, you consider weighing your options, thinking back to all the trouble Nancy said it would cause you.

On the one hand, you very well might end up just being another notch on his belt. You could give in and give him everything you have to give and then end up nothing but a one night stand to him, which, you keep in mind, you’re fully prepared for. Prepared for the looks from the Hawkins girls who dream of being in your shoes every time you go to the mall, the pool, the arcade, for the entirety of what’s left of this summer. Prepared for all of that and not even so much as a bat of an eyelash from Billy.

On the other hand, you could follow what all of your logical reasoning is currently telling you and not entertain this any more than a couple of kisses, leaving him with possibly the bluest of balls for the night. It would definitely save you the trouble of giving an essence of you to someone who would forget all about it come sunrise.

Of course, you know now is not the time to play coy after all that effort you’d put into getting where you currently sit at this moment; so instead of retreating to the safer option (because let’s face it, Billy Hargrove is a dangerous endeavor), you decide to say the words you know your entire being wants you to say.

“Why don’t you, then?”

“Yeah?” He purrs in response with that smile as he leans in toward you, connecting his lips to yours with a hunger you had not yet known before this. Your head spins when he reaches a hand up to caress the nape of your neck, slowly running it up to cup your cheek as if you are the most delicate thing in the world. His touch makes the most pleasant chills run down your neck and spine. You soon begin to feel lightheaded, like he’s taking your very essence with this one longing kiss that he leads like a waltz. It’s all too much.

You can clearly hear Nancy’s voice in your head scolding you a million times and then some, and you already know that this is the last thing you should be doing and she just doesn’t ever want to see you get hurt; but you can’t help but acknowledge how good it feels to be rebelling against her constant advising for once. Especially when Billy is right here, kissing you so sensually with such skill and finesse. Especially when the scent of him is currently etching itself into your brain as he slides his tongue into your mouth, warm and smooth. You let yourself surrender to your fantasies and follow in suit, your own tongue slowly circling his in a way that pulls a low-pitched moan from the back of his throat.

You feel like you’re going crazy with just this taste of him.

It feels like it’s almost immediately then that you have to force yourself away, him following the ghost of your movement before realizing you’d already gone. You lean into his ear, much like he had this afternoon, inhaling the mixture of his hairspray and cologne and traces of cigarette smoke. And in that moment, you’re fully aware that this might be the point of no return when you breathe into his ear, “Take me to your car.”

Somehow, someway, something clicks inside of the boy beside you because in an instant, he’s reaching for your hand, pulling you from the seat as he makes a beeline headed straight for the exit. You follow in suit, the both of you practically speeding up to a moderate jog. You reach the car within two or three minutes, yanking your respective doors open and slamming them without an ounce of a fuck given if they fall straight off the car.

The amount of lust in the air around you and him is almost paralyzing as your lips reconnected after what felt like an eternity. Hands quickly travel to places they’d been dying to be on for hours on end, resting so perfectly on every and any curve and edge they land on. You feel like you can lose yourself in him, the heat in the car building up with the sounds of his moans and his growls. You had never fit so well with anybody else.

Billy’s hand sneaks up your back, and his fingers entangle themselves into your hair, gathering a portion of it for him to grab onto. Almost immediately, you begin making haste of unbuttoning his shirt. He surprisingly begins to pull away from you, holding you at bay with the fistful of hair he’d obtained.

“Easy, kitten,” he coos, tracing his thumb along your lower lip with his free hand. He knows exactly what you want by the way you look at him with such longing and desire, but he’s got other plans. “Pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have to be in such a rush.”

The needy groan you let out elicits a sultry chuckle from him, the boy who has you wrapped around the tip of his little pinky finger. He yanks onto your hair, jerking your head back as he buries himself into your neck and the smell of you. The way he’s trailing slow, sloppy kisses down your neck and to your shoulder has you growing more and more fervid. Sex has got to be a legitimate talent because this boy has got it.

“Smells so fuckin’ nice,” he mumbles into your skin, deeply inhaling your scent. He then pulls away all too soon, leaving you feeling cold and filled to the brim with pent up energy; but he presses an eager kiss to your lips and lingers for just a moment, licking at your upper lip with a sigh that held the burden of a million different hormones coursing through his veins. He knows that he wants you so badly it hurts.

However, as much as he would love to rip all of your clothes off and defile you in the back of his Camaro (and as much as you want him to), you sense that he’s holding back some when he starts the engine and begins to drive away from the mall.

You straighten yourself, tucking your blouse back into the waistband of your jeans and fastening your seatbelt. As Billy drives, you note the way his jaw clenches and his grip on the steering wheel tightens every so often. “Everything okay, Billy?”

“Yep,” he answers nonchalantly, as if he isn’t currently sporting the demeanor of an agitated wild animal.

“Did I do something?”

“Yes, you did.”

“Oh.”

There’s a short pause between the two of you, the first real silence that is present all night. That is, until Billy speaks again. 

“So that’s why I’m taking you to bed with me.”

Oh.

Somewhat of an awkward silence takes place for a couple of seconds, and he soon comes to the realization that maybe he should have asked you that instead of declared it. Unbeknownst to him, you actually don’t mind his assertiveness. After all, although you aren’t necessarily expecting your date to end on a rated-R note, you certainly aren’t opposed to the idea.

“Unless you don’t want to,” he starts up again, “I can just take you back to Nancy’s instead.”

“No,” you refuse, shaking your head to match your verbal expression. Sure, it might be growing late and Nancy might be waiting for you to return, but you don’t care. The absolute last thing you want to do right now is leave. “I want to.”

As much as the blonde tries to hide it, you can see a smile forming onto his face. “Okay then. My place it is.”

Sporting a smile of your own, you study the structure of Billy’s profile with the help of whatever light sources decide to become available to illuminate his face. For the remainder of the car ride to his house, you watch his face as he drives, as he mouths the words to the songs on the radio, as he concentrates hard on the dark backroad. Every so often, he meets your gaze for just a split second and teases you, saying things like, “Eyes on the road, creepy lady.”

“Are you sure it’ll be fine for me to be here?” You question as Billy pulls up to his home. You really don’t want to bring him any trouble. It’s quite ironic.

“Should be fine, sugar,” he reassures, leaning back in his seat to look at you. “My folks are always asleep by this time, so just make sure not to make too much noise.”

You give him a playful scoff, lightly swatting at his shoulder as he laughs at your reaction. After unbuckling your seatbelt, you open the car door. “Billy Hargrove, you are unbelievable,” you snort as you bring yourself outside of the vehicle, walking ahead of him and planting yourself right at the front door to wait.

He fumbles with his keys for a minute and jams one into the lock, turning it so that a click is audible, signifying access inside. With a light pat on your ass, he urges you to step in before him so that he can shuffle in right behind you. “In you go, doll,” he says, stifling a laugh at the tiny yelp of surprise you let out, earning himself a playful glare in response.

Shutting the door and locking it behind him, Billy then leads you to his room, which smells heavily of cigarette smoke and musky cologne—much like an extension of him. You plop yourself down on the edge of his bed, watching him as he shuts the bedroom door, locks it, and saunters over to his stereo.

“Now,” he prompts, pressing the power button to play his usual rock music at a moderately low volume. With a playful smile, he leans over you, and, using as little effort as possible from his fingers, pushes you so that you fall back onto the mattress before he crawls on top of her. “Where were we?”

“I think I can give you a refresher,” you giggle in response before wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in toward you to kiss him with every single bit of lust you can ever think to give to him. You resist every invasive urge to laugh when it seems like Billy is surprised beyond belief that you’d make such a bold move. He groans low as you claw at his jacket to get it off of him.

You feel hands plant themselves on your waist, feeling your curves as they travel up to pull your blouse out of your jeans. At the same time, you make your second attempt at unbuttoning his shirt, which he lets you do this time. In a matter of moments, Billy is already half naked and ready to give you anything you want.

“Someone’s a little hasty,” he teases, nipping at your lip before sliding your entire body up on his mattress toward the pillows. He grabs a fistful of fabric from your shirt, proceeding to pull your blouse up your torso as you giggle.

In the swiftest beat, he takes your top off over your head and unhooks your bras as he latches himself onto your neck, sucking harshly at the smooth skin. Once he tosses your garments to the side, he pulls back to look you over, causing your ears to burn and your cheeks to become freckled with pink.

“Oh, I love these,” he marvels, reaching down to cup your breasts and glided his thumbs over the nipples, eliciting a pleased groan from you. He slowly circles his thumbs atop the sensitive nubs, his tongue running along the perimeter of his lower lip in growing desire. As he presses a kiss onto the soft skin in his hands, he muses, “Fuckin’ amazing tits.”

He is so vulgar, and you love it so much.

After taking in the sight of your bare chest, he leans down to place kisses up and down your sternum and on your breasts, continuing to play with your nipples until you begin to squirm from his touch. Soon, he lets his hands travel down your abdomen to begin undoing your jeans.

“Let me taste you, baby girl. I bet you taste so good,” he whispers against your skin, so quiet and intimate. You’re surprised that you just barely heard it. The words that are leaving his mouth almost sound desperate, but you’d never thought he had ever had to beg for anything from anyone. From his mouth, a couple of needy pants can be heard as he looks up to face you, eyes pleading and aching to please you. “Please let me make you feel good.”

This is definitely a first for you. Never in your life had you ever had someone begging to please you; in fact, you often found yourself lucky if any of your partners would even consider returning the favor.

You find yourself wondering just how good Billy is at giving head, so much so that you can’t help but nod your head and breathe out, “Okay.”

Billy lets out a satisfied and eager moan as he immediately pulls the zipper of your jeans down and practically rips them off in one fell swoop. He then hooks his thumbs into the sides of your panties, admiring the color and texture of them. “These all for me, sweetheart?” He hums playfully before sliding them off carelessly.

Once you’re completely naked, he whistles, “Look at that… So pretty and wet.” He can’t help but stare, and it leads you to try to break the silence of your slight embarrassment.

“Like what you see?” You ask, resting your arms above your head to make your figure seem more appealing.

“Like it? I love it, kitten.”

The words that leave Billy’s mouth make you feel less self-conscious about this whole thing, makes you feel more able to let yourself just be in the moment. And this is such a great moment to be in.

At first, Billy teases you, scooting onto his stomach and making himself comfortable below your waist before planting slow kisses onto your inner thighs as he holds your legs apart with those calloused hands of his. Your body begins to quiver and twitch with anticipation, and you wish that he would just get on with it and stop playing his games. But, of course, he just has to make it memorable for you.

Soon enough, you can feel your body react on its own, your back arching in pleasure when, finally, he flattens his tongue and licks a long, slow strip all the way up your pussy. “Fuck,” you gasp, which pulls a short laugh from the face between your legs.

His tongue circles slowly all the way around the general area of your cunt, moaning lavishly at the taste of you before he flicks the tip of his tongue over that small collection of nerves that had been itching for attention all night. Just that one movement from him is enough to send you beyond the moon and all the way back.

You completely adore the feeling of his tongue licking you up and down, his strong hands holding onto you like you were a rare delicacy; and by God, he was about to indulge you.

The majority of his attention goes straight toward rubbing and circling his tongue so expertly on your clit, occasionally sticking it out all the way to lap up your taste, chuckling or moaning every time you swear or moan or gasp in pleasure. At one point, he pulls away for a fraction of a second and spits downward, letting a short stream of saliva run down your pussy before licking it back up in such a messy manner. You feel so dirty in the best way possible as you rock your hips against his tongue and beg him to make you come.

Billy lies his tongue flat onto your clit, following the lead you end up taking and finding the utmost of pleasure in the fact that you’re essentially getting yourself off on just a small part from his entire body. After a moment, however, he grows desperate to taste your sweet release, gripping you harshly by your hips and holding your waist down to the mattress as he once again takes the reins.

“Oh fuck, just like that,” you pant, gripping the edges of his pillow so hard that you swear your knuckles are turning white. At this moment, you’re beginning to see stars from how good he’s making you feel. “God, Billy, I’m getting so close.”

He hums in acknowledgement to your statement, taking it as a cue to continue doing what he feels he could do forever.

It feels like he’s composing the most complicated music onto your pleading body, his tongue doing wonders on you as he continues to eat you as if his life depends on it. You can feel your body growing more erratic by the second, tension building inside of you, and you don’t know how much longer you’re going to last. It seems that Billy is more than ready to push you right over the edge.

“Coming—,” is all you manage to push past the knot that forms in your throat, choking on your own breath as one of the most powerful orgasms you’ve ever had takes over you. You try your absolute hardest to not make too loud of noises, which results in squeals and choked moans as Billy licks up every last drop of you, slow and steady.

You pant slowly as he finally detaches himself from you, using his forearm to wipe his mouth and chin clean. A smug smirk forms on his face as he kisses his way up your body back to your lips, pressing a quick kiss onto them. “You taste absolutely incredible, gorgeous.”

All you can do is stare, awe stricken and lightheaded. You try to say something meaningful and worth something in this moment, but all you can get out of your mouth is, “You’re fucking fantastic.”

“I know.” “I take it back.”

Billy laughs, kissing you again because he just can’t bother to do anything else. You return the kiss, cupping his cheek in your hand. This one is a gentler kiss. A sweeter one. You like it, but you hope that doesn’t mean it’s over already.

Pulling away, you hesitate, but spoke nonetheless, “Do you have…”

As you trail off, he manages to catch on to what you’re hinting at, leaving you with no need to finish your sentence.

“Of course, sweet face,” he replies with the same smoothness and charm that landed the both of you in this very situation. He reaches over to open the drawer on his bedside table and pulls out a half empty box of Trojan brand condoms, pulling one out and setting the box back down on the table. As you watch him, he meets your gaze once more, making you feel more naked than nude when he gives you yet another look over.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he sighs, leaning down and crashing his lips back onto yours. You can taste yourself on his tongue; and out of all the times you’d kissed him tonight, this was by far the least put-together state you’d witnessed him in. But, of course, he snaps back into that old charm of his after he parts from you with a small nip of your lip and you wonder for a moment just how many women he’s said that to. Then, he gives you the same lusty look he’d shot your way many times before at the community pool as he removes his jeans and underwear, tore open the condom wrapper, and finally says the words:

“I’m gonna fuck the living shit outta you.”

That sentence alone makes you whine. Still riding from your previous orgasm, you press your thighs together to allow yourself some friction—any friction—as Billy slides the condom so skillfully onto his cock.

“No, no, none of that, princess,” he tuts, spreading your legs apart again to completely open you up to him. He pauses for a moment, marveling at the sight of you practically begging him to fuck you just by the furrow of your brow and your subtle pout. You swear you see him about to drool. “You don’t have to do a thing, pretty girl.”

With that, he slides his cock into your pussy so agonizingly slow as he growls in pure bliss, a flithy smile growing onto his face at the sound of the lewd moan that leaves your lips. You find yourself completely relishing in the feeling of connecting to Billy in a way many girls can only dream of. “Fuck, you like that baby?”

You can only manage to nod your head in response through all the fogginess in your head. Once he is all the way inside of you, he begins to pull out at the same pace, repeating the motion over and over again.

“Billy, please,” you plead, the tempo at which his hips grind against your pelvis and buries himself deep inside of you driving you completely mad. You almost want to cry out of pure frustration from the way he’s teasing you. You just want more of him, anything he’s willing to give you.

The young devil leans down onto his elbows for support so that he’s almost face to face with you, and you can feet his breath right on your cheek. Even the tone he holds in the way he responds is enough to make you lose your mind and the fucker knows it. “Please, what?”

And you can barely think straight with the way he’s working you, with his hands caressing your hips to guide you onto his cock. The way he moves seems like clockwork, a second nature to him, teasing you so well with his sinful hips and immaculate touch.

Between your whines and stifled moans, you reach a hand up to caress his face again, making eye contact with him no matter how hard it might be to keep concentrated. Your other hand joins, both of them now moving back to entangle your fingers into the smooth curls of his mullet. Soft and desperate, you beg, “Please fuck me harder.”

Billy lets out a tantalizing laugh. “That’s just what I like to hear.”

You can’t help but to let out a yelp of pleasure that is just a touch too loud as he picks up the pace of his hips. He immediately clamps a hand down over your mouth, shushing you in a way you never knew you could find sexy at all as he begins to slam his cock into you at a quicker pace.

“You want us to get caught, huh? Want my dad to barge in and find me buried deep in you while you just take it?” He presses, panting in between his words as he tries not to give into the ecstasy of being inside of you too much. “God, this pussy is fucking heavenly.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you focus on the wonderful feeling of Billy stretching out your pristine, tight little pussy. You begin to feel like you could ascend above the clouds right into heaven. He lets go of your mouth, replacing his hand with his mouth as his hips hold their steady rhythm. This kiss is sloppy and messy, the both of you moaning into each other’s mouths while they bite and nip at each other.

Billy then rips his face away from yours, panting as he looks at your face. Sweat drips from his forehead down the side of his face, but he doesn’t falter. You start to think he has the stamina of an olympic athlete.

He slows after a while, compensating for it by grinding into you as deep as he possibly can. The room fills with the smell of sex and the sound of your pants mixing together with his. It is after a moment that you begin to feel a touch too selfish.

“Do you want me to do anything?” You offer, brushing away the strands of hair that are sticking to his forehead from his sweat. Pouting subtly, you continue. “I want to make you feel good, too.”

He shakes his head before pressing a kiss onto your forehead, insisting that he’s fine. “I’m almost there, kitten,” he reassures, biting down onto his lower lip hard to hold back some of his pants. Then, taking a deep breath, he returns to his previous speed to get himself off. Gasping in surprise, you hook your arms under his to plant your hands onto his sweaty back, feeling his muscles contract as he moves.

His broad figure looms over you, and you dig your nails into his skin, scratching to make up for all the moans and screams you want to let out so that he knows just how good he’s making you feel.

“I’m gonna come, baby girl,” he pants, trying his best to hold back from completely wrecking you like he actually wants to.

Just from hearing that statement, you let out an eager moan as your hands scramble to grab onto his face, pulling it down to your own to plant the hungriest kiss you’d ever given anyone. When you break the kiss, you hug his head atop of your shoulder, pleading into his ear in the sweetest tone Billy had ever heard in his life, “Come inside of me.”

With those words, Billy lets out a strained groan of Bure bliss and ecstasy right into your ear as he spills himself into the condom. He soon slows the pace of his hips, body twitching ever so slightly as he rides out the remainder of his orgasm.

“Shit,” he sighs, letting out a final deep breath as he pulls his cock out of you and plops down beside you, occupying whatever space was left on the bed. You follow his lead when he starts to slide under the covers. “I need a smoke.”

You giggle and reach over to the floor beside where you lie in bed, pulling his Marlboro box and lighter from his jacket and rolling onto your other side to hand them to him. He smiles slightly as he pulls a cigarette from the box and puts it in his mouth, dangling it in his lips in front of you and letting you light in before he takes his first drag from it. He then offers you a smoke from his cigarette, taking it between two fingers from his mouth, to which you reject, simply saying, “I don’t smoke.”

He simply shrugs before exhaling the smoke toward the ceiling as you set the box and lighter down on his bedside table. You turn back to find his looking right at you, admiring the features on your face.

“What?” You breathe, a shy smile on your face as you rest your head onto his pillow.

“Say you’ll come out with me again,” he requests, supporting himself by the elbow of his free arm to look down at you as he continued to smoke on his cigarette. You don’t even realize that the face you pull in response reads as confused and just a bit shocked. “I’m serious. I’ll take you someplace nice, like dinner or the beach or some shit.”

“Is the infamous Billy Hargrove asking me on a second date?” You tease with a playful gasp, knowing that part of his reputation included never going out with the same girl twice. Obviously, you hadn’t prepared for this possibility when you did your introspective option-weighing at the movie theatre.

He scoffs, unable to stop the laugh that leaves the back of his throat. “Fuck you.”

You watch as he takes another long drag from his cigarette, and you shuffle onto your stomach to make yourself comfortable, scooting closer to the edge of the bed to allow him more space. Peeking up at him through your eyelashes, you question, “You know I’m going back to Vegas after the summer’s over, right?”

All Billy does is shrug, not seeming to mind. “Doesn’t mean we can’t have a bit of fun with the time we got left.”

A soft hum leaves your mouth as you watch him finish off his cigarette and toss the butt into his trash. Surely another date with him wouldn’t be so bad. “Sounds like a plan,” you give in, letting yourself enjoy the possibility of having a summer where you don’t have to wait around for Nancy all day every day.

Billy smiles in triumph, leaning down to press a kiss onto your lips. You smile a bit, too, into the kiss, the sealer of the best night of your entire summer. So far, at least. When he pulls away from you, he strokes your cheek with the knuckle of his pointer finger, noting the way you almost lean into his touch and the warmth of his hand.

“Billy?”

“Yes, princess?”

“Please do not leave that condom on your dick.”

[crowned-ladybug]

Marvin from the rivals au for that character thing or just in general bc I love him so much and I want to know more about him

This got so long, I’m so sorry. This is like 2k words bc if allowed to talk about this boy then i could talk Forever. Oops

(With the meme it’s here btw)

Occasional sleeptalker. Usually just incoherent babbling, andJackie finds it hilarious to listen to if he's awake for it

Can braid his own hair perfectly without any trouble. Fear him

Shows his love of certain ppl by buying them lil gifts but hatesthe confrontation and awkwardness of giving them to them so heusually just leaves them in places he knows they'll find them,usually with no indication that they're from him either

Colour codes Everything

Has his own way of organising things that makes sense to Him okaybut he can't really explain it to anyone else. It annoys poor Jamesonto no end bc he organises shit to help with his anxiety and MarvinKeeps Ruining It

His reaction to Chase and Jackie wanting to get up to impulsivefun shit is "sure, go ahead, just don't hinder whatever I'mdoing" (or sometimes he joins them) and Schneep is sodisappointed in him for not helping him keep them in check instead

Has a fuckin perfectly figured out skincare routine and he'sdragging all the others up with him

Generally v good at lazy/spa day kinda self-care

Has ADD (tho all the egos have ADD/ADHD tbh)

Chase has absolutely compared him to Mettaton X at some point andMarvin doesn't know how to react to that

Gets cold super easily and Hates It. Is an absolute lil bitchabout it and won't stop whining until he can get warm again(favourite way to do that is to cuddle Jackie, and he just goes allhappy and melty from it, but I still wouldn't try to talk to him if Iwere you. And Jackie is a good bf who puts up with Marvin's stupidcold hands and face)

Has two modes when cuddling btw, he either just lies peacefullywith someone (mostly Jackie) while having an arm draped over them orholding their hand or pressed up against them, or he turns into afuckin octopus. Good luck trying to get up, you won't succeed

Which has led to multiple instances of someone needing Jackie forsomething, only to find him unavailable bc he's completely trapped bya sleeping Marvin even if he himself is wide awake. But he enjoys ita lot too bc Hell Yes Affection and would never have the heart tomove him and wake him up

He's also p damn pointy so he's not really the most comfy personto cuddle but Oh Well

Also wakes up slow and says a lot of bullshit in the process (orstuff he'd normally filter out and not get to say, like sappy shit)

A flirty lil bitch

Knows Jackie blushes super easily and enjoys the fuck out of it.Constantly trying to figure out how little it'll take for him to beall red in the face (And he knows Jackie doesn't mind and he backsoff when he's told to. Don't worry. Consent is still there)

He on the other hand doesn't blush often so when he does it meanshe's Super Flustered

Ik i said this last night too but he knows how to dance and doesit p well tbh?? He used to dance a lot when he was a kid/teen butdropped it when he realised he was trans bc then he tried to be AsMasculine As Possible bc he felt like if he didn't he'd be "fakingit"

(Grew out of that eventually. He's so glad he did)

Insecure about more stuff than he would ever let you believe

Once he starts really caring about the other egos he tries So Hardto be good to them and secretly beats himself up sometimes for stillbeing an Asshole when he messes it up. Yeah it's angsty. He'd takehimself apart just to make it up to his friends for having been anasshole to them before

Not a morning person but he can still function if woken up early,he'll just make sure you know that he's Not happy about it

Very rarely gets dysphoric, really only if continously referred towith the wrong pronouns/gendered terms or if called his deadname

At some point he started shooting Jackie flirty looks while sayingbullshit in French (Jackie doesn't speak French) to fluster him butit got to the point where Marvin realised that if he wanted to keepdoing it he'd need to Actually Learn French instead of just spoutingthe same limited amount of bullshit all the time. And that's thestory of why he started studying a Whole Other Language

Likes flowers but knows fuck all about them

I don't think I'll ever properly type down how he got his scar sohere: before Marvin pledged alliance to the other egos, Anti alreadyassumed he would, and so he captured him and threatened to torturehim to get information out of him/possibly force him on his sideinstead. Marvin called his bluff and told him to fuck himself. Antigot angry, waved his knife a lil too close to Marvin's face duringone of his threats and ended up actually cutting him. Anti was superhappy bc holy shit I Did Something, and Marvin decided that he's hadenough and since he'd been saving his energy all this time, blew up acharge of electricity in Anti's face. He then proceeded to teleporthome (with the chair he was tied to still attached but uhh. That partof the story is a lil less dignified so shh)

Anti has had a special place in Hell for him ever since (and withthis I'm realising that Anti is actually p fuckin bad at his job??Wow)

Says he doesn't like his hair messed with. He's lying.

But you gotta be Special and Important To Him to have permissionto touch his hair (or a hairdresser I guess). But Jackie is one ofthose ppl so he can mess with Marvin's hair all he wants (he evenlearned how to braid hair just to surprise him and lemme tell you,Marvin was Absolutely v surprised) Stroke and pet his hair longenough and he'll go all melty

His teeth are a lil bit pointier than average (and Jackie is sofucking gay for that and I'm shaming him)

Used to write poetry as a teen. Don't bring it up, he'sembarrassed.

Shoves all his feelings and problems in a box and hides them inthe attic bc He Doesn't Want Them

Can sing okay but doesn't do it often bc it's not Perfect so it'sBad. Hums more often tho

He's scared of a bunch of stuff in horror movies (and triggered bysome) but No One is allowed to know that. He's glad most of theothers don't much like them either and thus they don't watch themtogether anyway. He really doesn't want others to see him scared bche thinks it'd make him look weak and ridiculous

(Yes, he double-standards himself vs other ppl a Lot. Being scaredor having bad mental health or messing up is only bad if he does it.But you didn't hear that from me.)

Pokemon is one of his biggest and longest-lasting hyperfixations

Holy shit I've never drawn him in a suit but my dudes he looks SoPretty in a well-fitted suit, Holy Fuck. Give him a lapel flower andit'll be Perfect. No one can resist that amount of charm

Knows how to walk (and even run and dance) in high heels but can'tfucking stand them (no pun intended, he just finds them reallyuncomfortable)

Will be stunned silent if anyone assumes he doesn't absolutelyAdore Jackie, both bc How Dare You and bc he's trying So Hard to be agood bf is he really That Bad at it?

Pressure is not his main stim but it's the best way to bring himout of a panic/anxiety attack and just ground him in general, espwhen he can't use his magic or doesn't think to use it. (He doesn'thave any weighted stuff so in others words: lie on him.) Once hecalms down enough he'll hopefully start doing his vital-readingmagic, which should help calm him more

(Also yeah, the whole vital-reading that I've probably talk aboutjust Way Too Much already but jic I'll mention it again anyway: hecan use his magic to read other ppl's vitals. It calms and comfortshim. He mainly does it to Jackie, who has given him blanketpermission for it)

Favourite stim is fondling with squishy things (like those foamanimal keychains??) and scraping stuff like candle wax or soap (itwould probably be chewing if he actually realised that that is aValid Stim but he Doesn't)

Has his own apartment for a while still after moving in with theother egos bc he doesn't expect it to last. He sells it about a yearlater

His job is being a magician too and doing his shows that bring inAbsolutely enough money for him to not have to get another job or doshows like every other night. Ppl don't know he has Actual MagicPowers which makes a lot of things easier for him

His masks are all self-made bc he didn't wanna chance lettinganyone else do it, and he's had many less fabulous ones before bc healways wants Better. The gold patterns on the one I've drawn him withbefore are covered in glitter. He has a couple other ones he usestho, all different styles and shapes and colours for the sake ofvariety. He always wears matching make-up (mainly eye make-up andlipstick) for his shows

The scoreboard on the fridge (a piece of paper where they trackevery time him and Jackie defeat each other in Anything At All) washis idea, but it was Jackie who drew the stick figure renditions ofthe two of them on it (so it was a joint effort, really. Yeah,ironic. Or typical)

Has no shame when it comes to PDA as long as it isn't suggestive,but Jackie is a lot less sure about it (esp when out in public) soofc he respects that

That also means that if Jackie decides to hold his hand in publiche gets So Fucking Giddy you have No Idea and also you wouldn'tbelieve it even if you saw

Speaking of giddy. If you manage to get him to start talking aboutJackie (not a hard thing to achieve tbh) he will get so happy andgiddy and excited and Will Not Shut Up okay. Or at least it'll takehim a While to realise that he's rambling and has completely shed hiscool exterior. He just really loves his bf okay and he kinda justwants everyone to know how great he is

Can remember names and face p well but numbers and dates? Nah son.You better believe he has to make memos and calendar entries on hisphone for Everything. He's glad he can remember his own birthday,almost everything else he just kinda remembers (so only as specificas season or month). He feels bad about it tho, esp when he has tocheck like twice a day coming up to an important date that yes, it'sstill two days away, he didn't miss it

Has the kinda handwriting that's v pretty to look at but is anabsolute Pain to try to read

[bubmyg]

yoongi having a bad day on tour so he watches some dorky vids of you he has saved but it just makes him miss you more so he calls not expecting you to answer because of the time difference but then you do and he's like "!!!!! why are you awake you should be asleep" but of course he's happy to hear your voice so he's like "wait don't hang up" and you quickly gather he's down about something and just encourage him and yeah soft. 😇

a/n: combining with this prompt: “can u please write something about skyping with yoongi and you’ve fallen asleep and he coughs or makes a noise and wakes u up bc u had ur volume all the way up and he’s apologizing but also admiring how cute u look all sleepy and surprised? sorry it’s so specific but it’s a prompt i think about a lot ndnsndns” but changing it just a bit, nothing drastic

word count: 1,061

There was only so many times Yoongi could watch you poke your tongue out, promising something about being a fantastic dancer, thanks to Hoseok! before ridiculously wiggling your hips in the reflection of the practice room mirror before he wanted to duck into the minuscule expanse of his phone screen and wrap his hands around your waist, bury his nose into the juncture of your throat, and mutter into the goose bump lace lain of your skin how cute you were just as he had immediately after the video in question cut off.  

The bite of his smile to the inside of his cheek was replaced by a pouting frown, thumb swiping away from his camera roll. It was more impulse than calculated reaction of his conscious to hover over your contact name, momentarily forgetting time zones and which button signified FaceTime as his fuzzy blinking was suddenly met with your yawning features. 

“Hi!” Yoongi chirped, scrambling to his stomach over the neat tuck of his hotel bed. As quickly as the jump in his stomach from seeing you died were his eyebrows knitting, “Why are you awake? You should be asleep.”

Your giggle was sleepy, stretching your arm wielding your phone out to his empty side of the bed, digging at your eyes with curled knuckles. “You called me, Yoongi.”

He blinked, shyly biting his lip, “I didn’t mean to FaceTime you.”

“Okay, grandpa-”

“I also wasn’t expecting you to be awake,” The spread of his teeth grew at your soft giggle, “because you shouldn’t be awake…”

“I can go…” You curled your phone closer, peering tiredly at him, “I was almost asleep anyway.”

Yoongi nearly fumbled his phone in the rush to utter, “I’ll let you sleep, you need to sleep-”

“-I just really like hearing your voice, I’m sorry.”

You smiled fondly, tucking your cheek to your knuckles. Meticulous fingertips managed to balance your phone between the limited space between your two pillows, allowing both your hands to curl your blanket under your chin. “No, it’s okay. I like hearing your voice too.”

“I miss you,” He blurted bluntly, blinking at you through the pixel phone camera. Selfishly, sadly, quietly, he murmured, “Don’t hang up, please.”

“I’m not going anywhere, nerd,” If he were with you, you’d reach out, kiss his nose, poking his cheek, hug his waist; but he wasn’t. He was halfway across the world. 

You sighed, digging your cheek into your pillow case, “Are you in bed?”

Yoongi snorted, twisting his camera to show the embroidered pillow case sanctioned under his arm, “Do you want to know what I’m wearing too?”

“I meant,” You glared at the shy spread of his teeth, “so it’ll be like we’re together.”

His heart fluttered fondly, shifting to tentatively press his cheek into the stark white, blinking softly, “Then yes. I’m in bed.”

“Good,” You encouraged, “now tell me a story.”

Somewhere among a backstage story of Taehyung tripping over the unexpected of Jimin and nearly giving himself a black eye seconds before they were to go on stage did Yoongi notice you’d dozed off. He trailed off, chewing at his bottom lip as he propped himself up on his elbow. 

If he were with you, he’d reach out, kiss you cheek, poke your nose, hug your waist; but he wasn’t. He was halfway across the world.

Instead, he snapped a screenshot of your dozing figure, something he’d add to the folder of you peacefully dozing across his chest in various locations throughout the span of your relationship. A sudden overwhelming guilt bit at the tip of his tongue sanctioned in his teeth, keeping you awake at such a hour back home, making you listen to him ramble about the ridiculous antics of his members without asking you anything about your day.

Yoongi coughed, a subtle attempt at waking you. To his surprise, the entirely faux rumble of his throat had your eyelids shooting open, startling the makeshift stand of your pillows that sent your phone toppling backward to display the shadows of the moon over the ceiling. 

Your face drew back into frame, much closer, much sleepier, entirely more beautiful. His chuckle was gentle, hushing, “Sorry. You dozed off on me.”

“Your voice helps me sleep,” You mumbled, blinking your eyes shut. “Sorry, that sounds bad. I love listening to your stories. It’s just really late.”

“I’m sorry, I know it is,” He tilted his head, “I’ll go. I can talk to you when you wake up.”

You squinted one eye open to peer at him through the lens, whispering, “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Please don’t go,” You peaked hopefully, “Keep talking to me. Stay on the phone. It’ll-”

“-it’ll be like we’re together. Kind of. I don’t know, it’s dumb-”

“Do you want me to finish the backstage disaster?” Yoongi inquired, tucking a jean clad leg underneath the neatly tucked duvet over the bed, “Or do you want to hear about the child switching something in Namjoon’s dinner and accidentally giving him an allergic reaction?”

Your giggle lit the unabashed grin to his gums. “Obviously the last one.”

He talked until the contours of your slumbering figure fell into a near darkness, until shards of light again splashed across your cheeks as the sun rose on the other side of the world. He watched you as you slept, the gentle flutter of your eyelids, the twitch of your nose, the part of your mouth. His heart grew the next size bigger when you whimpered in your sleep until his sleep deprived timbre soothed you back into the deepest crevice of the best sleep you’d had since he left. 

The blink of his watch mocked the silent alarm notification that popped over the top of his battery drained phone. 

If Yoongi were with you, he’d slide over the crouch of your shoulders, brush your hair from your cheeks, kiss the corner of your mouth, promise that he’d be back later and soothe the stir of your stature so that he could properly prepare for the day. But he wasn’t. 

Instead, the softest of, “I love you so much,” hushed past his lips, surely meeting the scratch of your speaker to your tired ears before he reluctantly ended the call, shoving his phone to his back pocket as a sharp knock alerted came to inform him of the mornings agenda. 

[2indecisive4this-blog]

Kaitlyn x MC HCs (as per anon request)

1. Who is the early bird/ Who is the night owl?

Kaitlyn’s a major night owl. MC tries to keep up, but tends to pass out...often flopping right onto her. It can be inconvenient.

2. Who is the big spoon/ Who is the little spoon?

They switch, but generally Kaitlyn’s the big spoon. MC revels in the feeling of being totally enveloped in Kaitlyn’s embrace. When MC can’t sleep, she’ll grab Kaitlyn’s arms and pull them around herself. Though this wakes her up, she never minds and gives MC a loving squeeze and soft kiss on the back of her neck before falling back asleep.

3. Who hogs the cover/ Who loves to cuddle?

They battle for covers-custody constantly. MC usually wins, but relinquish the blankets because Kaitlyn’s “just too cute to say no to”.

4. Who wakes the other one up with kisses?

On the rare occasion Kaitlyn wakes up before MC, she'll pepper her with kisses until she wakes up (usually groggily groaning one of her celebrity crushes’ names “Oh Jen..” to get Kaitlyn feisty. It doesn't usually work “Aniston or Lawrence?”)

5. Who usually has nightmares?

Kaitlyn has frequent nightmares with monsters from her favorite horror movies, though she claims that she actually likes them. MC sees through her bluff though when she snuggles extra close and squeezes her a little tighter afterwards.

6. Who would have really deep emotional thoughts at the middle of the night/ Who would have them in the middle of the day?

They're both known to wake the other up to ask deep philosophical questions

“If you can sunbathe, does that mean you can moonbathe?”

“OMFG I WAS WONDERING THE SAME THING”

7. Who sweats the small stuff?

Kaitlyn. She's still fairly insecure about their relationship, often being worked up when her plans don't go exactly according to, well, plan. When she starts stressing, MC will take her face in her hands and kiss her nose, assuring her that “everything is perfect”

8. Who sleeps in their underwear (or naked)/ Who sleeps in their pajamas?

MC used to sleep in her pajamas but Kaitlyn's incessant whining that “pj are just extra distance between [them]”, they now both sleep “O’ Natural”. It's gotten to the point MC often forgets to get dressed when leaving their room in the morning. Needless to say, her friendship with Zack and Chris with never be the same again.

9. Who makes the coffee (or tea)?

MC makes it, though admits she probably doesn't need it with her “natural high on life”. Kaitlyn knows she needs it, and demands it “by the friggin gallon”.

10. Who likes sweet/ Who likes sour?

They both love the combination, often opting to buy both a pack of Swedish fish, and one of Sour Patch Watermelon. when it comes down to it though, the Swedish fish always gravitate toward MC and the Sour Patch Watermelon to Kaitlyn.

11. Who likes horror movies/ Who likes romance movies?

Kaitlyn LOVES horror movies. To death. Quite literally. MC doesn't like them but tolerates them for Kaitlyn's sake. Usually Kaitlyn tells her to “watch [her]” during the scary parts, and takes the opportunity to steal a kiss or two.

MC is a sucker for cheesy romance, romcoms in particular. Kaitlyn insists that “true love happens over time and can't be represented in an hour and a half” She will admit though, that “Drew Barrymore is smokin’”, and she'd “watch anything to see her in it”.

12. Who is smol/ Who is tol?

MC is tol, though just barely taller than Kaitlyn. Personality wise, MC is smol.

13. Who is considered the scaredy cat?

MC. She jumps at every little thing. Kaitlyn used to like scaring her, but at this point it’s too easy and she doesn’t even bother trying.

14. Who kills the spiders?

Kaitlyn, though MC always whines and asks her not to kill them. Once, Kaitlyn tried sparing a spider and instead dumping it outside (as requested) but a paranoid MC changed her mind and sent her back out into the wilderness to ensure it wouldn't return. It took hours.

15. Who is scared of the dark?

MC. She's “not scared, just apprehensive of what might be hiding in it”.

16. Who is scared of thunderstorms?

MC. She startles with each thunder clap and and shivers at the thought of lightning. Occasionally though, Kaitlyn can convince her to stand outside in it, and they kiss beneath the torrent.

17. Who works/ Who stays at home?

They both work, though MC tends to work from home (writing). Kaitlyn has spare time between gigs, and so they hang together a lot while they’re at home.

18. Who is a cat person/ Who is a dog person?

They’re both dog people, although MC also loves cats. Kaitlyn loves MC’s dog (MC sometimes gets a lil jelly over how much Bastien (“don’t judge”) loves Kaitlyn)

19. Who loves to call the other one cute names?

It’s been a sickening and undying competition between them for ever. It started with Kaitlyn calling MC “bunny” (after an embarrassing The Christmas Story -esque fiasco), to which MC countered “snugglebunny”. The most recent installment is “Snuffleupagus-bunny-pooh-bear I” (Kaitlyn’s creation) but with no end in sight, and with Webster’s Dictionary being the colossal reference that it is, the possibilities are endless.

20. Who is dominant/ Who is submissive?

Kaitlyn tends to be dominant, but they switch it up frequently (MC loves topping Kait mid “session”--Kaitlyn loves it too).

21. Who has an obsession (over anything)?

Kaitlyn’s ongoing horror movie obsession has grown tiresome for MC. If she has to sit through another Skin Goblins marathon, let alone being Kaitlyn’s Skin Goblin cosplay partner (it’s a two person costume), MC’s head might implode.

22. Who goes all out for Valentine’s Day?

MC openly obsesses over Valentine’s Day, whereas Kaitlyn tries to act cavalier (while planning an extensive surprise in secret).

23. Who asks who out on the first date?

MC asked Kaitlyn bc Kaitlyn still couldn’t fathom that MC was into her as well (old gay insecurities).

24. Who is the talker/ Who is the listener?

They take turns. It’s slightly ridiculous. Kaitlyn fished a clock out of an ancient chess set from her (limited) time in chess club in highschool. They take turns chattering for 45 seconds at a time before switching again.

25. Who wears the other ones clothes?

Kaitlyn.

Never.

Does.

Laundry.

Ever.

Hope that’s enough information to answer the question :)

26. Who likes to eat healthy/ Who loves junk food?

They both live on crap food (past the point of junk food). They’re working on it though, no more Cheetos with Cheez Doodle on top, only one or the other.

27. Who takes a long shower/ Who sings in the shower?

They both sing in the shower, although Kaitlyn’s singing is far less embarrassing (and yet she somehow remains more embarrassed while doing so? Again, old gay insecurities die hard).

28. Who is the book worm?

MC loves reading (mostly graphic novels at this point), whereas Kaitlyn’s Netflix addiction grows with each season of American Horror Story.

Even the bad ones.

29. Who is the better cook?

Neither of them can make a half decent meal alone without making an offensive mess. As near as they can figure though, two heads are actually worse than one, as when they work together nothing gets made except for a mess.

30. Who likes long walks on the beach?

MC and Kaitlyn like to ironically frolic along the shores, hand in hand. MC actually loves building sandcastles, while Kaitlyn actually loves stomping them afterwards.

31. Who is more affectionate?

MC is more innocently affectionate; opting to hold hands in public, sneak quick kisses, and give long tender hugs. Kaitlyn, although now confidently out, is still occasionally nervous (old gay habits) of PDA, but more than compensates in private.

32. Who likes to have really long (deep) conversation?

They both do, but MC’s subject matter tends to be lighter whereas Kaitlyn’s discussion topics usually derive from real-life examples she’s feeling guilty or regretful of.

33. Who would wear “not guilty” t-shirt/ Who would wear “sin” t-shirt?

Kaitlyn wanted to wear the “not guilty” shirt, but MC called her out.

34. Who would wear “if lost return to…” t-shirt/ Who would wear “I am…” t-shirt?

Kaitlyn's the lost puppy. They wear them so often that they've accumulated 3 pairs. Kaitlyn thinks it's funny to also wear the “I am MC” shirt without MC noticing. MC does not share the sentiment.

35. Who goes overboard on the holidays?

MC is obsessed. Kaitlyn tends to forget they're even coming up, tending to opt for belated holiday gifts (so she has the timeto buy them last minute). One year she got MC a single disposable razor left over from her 5 pack (“get it? Because you raze the roof?”)

MC did get it.

MC was not amused.

36. Who is the social media addict?

Kaitlyn's developed a bit of an obsession since becoming her band’s social (media) butterfly.

37. Height difference or age difference?

A tiny height difference, MC is a hair taller.

38. Who likes to star gaze?

They both LOVE it, often waking up on their front lawn after an especially starry night.

39. Who buys cereal for the prize inside?

They both will, but won't admit it; often racing the other to finish the box solely for the prize at the bottom. MC calculated the number of times it takes to reach the bottom and so feels confident she's getting the mood ring (little does she know, Kaitlyn already opened the bottom of the box, took the ring, and taped it back up).

40. Who is the fun parent/ Who is the responsible parent?

They don't have kids, but they have a dog! His name is Wilbur, and they're convinced he's actually a pig in disguise. They're both honestly abysmal dog/pig parents, but together they manage to walk him, feed him, and get him to the vet on time (usually).

41. Who cries during sad movies?

MC. Kaitlyn rolls her eyes, hugs her close, and hands her a tissue (though they have to share whenever a dog dies).

42. Who is the neat freak?

MC wouldn't call herself a neat freak, but Kaitlyn’s messiness pains her soul. She often reminisces to the brief period of time she lived with Rachel, musing that she “didn't yet know what a trash goblin truly was”.

43. Who wins the stuffed animals at the carnival for the other one?

They both try very hard and fail even harder, but have a great time and opt for cotton candy and caramel apples instead.”Food is the best prize anyway”

44. Who is active/ Who is lazy?

They're both pretty lazy, although MC tends to be pretty restless and hard to pin down. She spends a lot of their “Netflix and Chill” sessions pacing more than chilling.

45. Who is more likely to get drunk?

Kaitlyn doesn't drink anymore, though she has a growing suspicion that her “shirley temples really do [her] in”

46. Who has the longer food order?

Kaitlyn. MC tries to keep up, but Kaitlyn could eat everything on the menu and still have seconds. It's no competition.

47. Who has the more complex coffee order?

MC. Not that her order is overly complicated, but Kaitlyn drinks black coffee. 

“I like my coffee how I like my women, bitter”

“Hey!”

*winks *

48. Who loses stuff?

They both lose everything. Kaitlyn at least knows she left her things amidst her other piles of crap, whereas MC loses things everywhere she goes and has no chance of tracking them down.

49. Who is the driver/ Who is the passenger?

They tend to go by bus, but when it comes to it MC usually drives.

50. Who is the hopeless romantic?

Day by day, MC is, but Kaitlyn is excellent at creating massive gestures. MC loves them (and her) dearly.

Give me a fictional couple :D