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darknight3904 · 5 months
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𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʀᴛᴇꜱᴛ ʙᴏʏ ᴀᴛ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜰᴏʀ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ 10ᴛʜ ᴀɴɴᴜᴀʟ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ
𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴀʟʟᴜꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇx, ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʙᴏᴏʙ ᴍᴀɴ. ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʙʏ ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ!
You could feel his eyes on you, it had been like this for months. Coriolanus Snow's eyes followed you nearly everywhere you went. From your class presentations to where you sat in the cafeteria with your peers, those strikingly blue eyes were always watching. Arachne had called it "unnerving" and "downright creepy" but what she didn't know was that you loved it. Knowing that you had the smartest boy in the class wrapped around your finger felt empowering, it also helped that you had been in a relationship with said boy for months now.
It had been sudden, the beginnings of the relationship with him. Sejanus was the one who pointed him out to you. Perhaps he was just trying to put in a good word for his friend but before you knew it Coriolanus was bringing you white roses and brushing your hair from your face. He'd present you with little folded pieces of paper, made to look like swans or butterflies and you cherished each one, your desk drawer at home was filled with his gifts. You and Coriolanus had agreed not to walk around the academy flaunting your relationship and opted for a much more discreet version of boyfriend and girlfriend when in public. That promise of secrecy didn't exactly stop hushed gossip and rumors that flew around the school. You'd deny any ideas of dating but you knew so many of your peers saw right through this act. Of course, all this secrecy, just meant he was all the more touchy in private. Even now, as you sat in his lap at your desk, trying to focus on the essay that was due tomorrow.
"It's perfect. You always get good marks anyway."He said, his fingertips dancing around your waist trying to get you to pull your attention from the paper before you.
"Easy to say when you have the highest marks." You pointed out, squirming when his fingers brushed a particularly ticklish spot.
"True, but you've always been a better writer than me. Don't you want to eat some of that food your maid brought in? It smells wonderful." He nodded to the large cart of food that had been sitting in your room, ignored for the past ten minutes.
One thing about your charming boyfriend was that he was always hungry. Coriolanus never turned down any of your suggestions of what to eat and was constantly eager to try whatever your family's cook whipped up when he was visiting you. His explanation for this constant hunger was that the Snow's cook was simply terrible but they couldn't fire him since their grandmother loved him so.
"I guess we can eat." You sigh placing your essay neatly into a folder, and standing to let him up from your desk chair.
You carefully helped your boyfriend place some of the food on your oversized bed. Another thing about him was that he highly enjoyed eating while sitting on your bed with you, of course, you couldn't blame him your bed was irresistibly soft.
"Do you honestly think that Arachne has the best hair in the class?" He laughed
"It's always pinned so neatly! Not to mention how her hair bows always compliment her makeup!" You point out
" I personally believe that there's another who has the best hair." He says, popping a grape into his mouth
"Oh really, who? And don't say Sejanus or Festus because we both know you'd be lying." You laugh, taking another bite of the chicken on your plate.
"It is obviously me." Coriolanus says "Have you seen my curls?"
He's dead serious about the statement but you can't help but laugh.
"What's so funny?" He asks, reaching over to poke at your stomach as you giggle at him
"You're just so confident, it's kind of funny." You smile
"Oh please, you act like my looks aren't the whole reason you were interested in me in the first place." He points out.
"That is not fair." You groan, knowing it is true. Coriolanus' good looks had definitely helped him get the girl. It didn't help that his words were equally as charming.
"Don't worry, I know your hundreds of ex-boyfriends don't compare to me." He smirks, pulling you to his side
"It's not hundreds." You snort, sure, you dated quite a few boys in the past but, so far none of them have ever held a candle to your Coryo.
Coriolanus found himself fully enraptured by your presence. From the way you'd double knot your shoes to the soft cherry red lipstick, you wore when he'd take you out on dates that he made sure were cheap yet incredibly tasteful. He felt incredibly reckless whenever he was with you, the way he'd find himself blurting out the craziest things in your presence was simply uncanny. Even now as you sat, awaiting him in bed, he knew you were going to somehow drag some crazy statements out of his mouth even when he swore he wouldn't blab on about god only knows what.
"Hope you didn't miss me too much." He teases when he exits your bathroom, slipping under the covers with you
"Don't get cocky." You laugh, pulling the covers up to hide your chest.
Coriolanus hated that you did that after sex. He had just been inside you, and yet you insisted on hiding what was probably his favorite part of you under the silky sheets that adorned your bed. Sure, he wanted to respect your boundaries and all, but he also wanted to be able to use your chest as his personal pillow.
"Stop staring at them." You scold, trying to wiggle away from his arms that were wrapping around you under the blankets.
"I can't help it, they're so soft." He says, burying his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.
"You're so strange." You laugh, running a hand through those wonderfully curly locks
"You love it." He sighed into your skin.
Months later, one day before the 10th Annual Hunger Games
You couldn't believe it. Coriolanus had blown you off. You had planned a date, a simple one really just a little picnic with some of his favorite foods and he never showed up. He had been acting strange ever since reaping day but when he had agreed earlier to your picnic idea you had been elated. You initially had thought he was just nervous since he got stuck with the District 12 girl but now you could see why he was acting so oddly. The moment you saw him standing in that damn cage at the zoo next to her, holding her hand, you knew exactly what was going on, he was interested in a girl who would be dead in days. His songbird was pretty, she'd give him that but what the hell did Lucy Gray have to offer your Coryo that you didn't already possess? Sure, she was a good singer that was obvious but other than that what did she have? Certainly not riches or manners to win your boy over and yet she was doing it anyway, she was singing her songs and casting a spell over your Coriolanus. You wondered if she was even truly interested in him, what if she was just trying to survive and Coryo was falling for it like an idiot?
It took quite a bit of self-control not to toss something at his head when he entered your room.
"I'm sorry...I know I missed your picnic." He said, crossing the room quickly
"You're only sorry for missing my picnic?" You ask, not rising from your seat
"What are you talking about? I'm here to apologize for standing you up. I was with Lucy Gray she needed food and I wanted to talk to her about strategy for the games." He said
"Really? You were talking strategy with her?" You roll your eyes, pointing to the television in your room which was paused on the broadcast Lucky Flickerman had done earlier that afternoon. Lucky was the focus of the shot but in the background, anyone with eyes could see Coriolanus Snow and Lucy Gray overly close to one another.
"I don't think talking strategy requires wiping her tears for her Coryo." You say
"She's just scared, I felt bad for her." He lies
"So you were just comforting her?" You ask
"Yes. Nothing more." He says
Jealousy reared its ugly head and set a bitter taste in your mouth. Did he honestly expect you to believe that?
"You're a man of many talents, Coryo but you're not a very good liar." You point out before clicking a button on your remote to show him the next thing you want him to see.
You want to laugh at the way his eyes widen at what you're showing him.
"She kisses you here, Coryo. I'm sure you would've continued too if you weren't so caught up in your own desires for that Plinth Prize." You point out, letting the footage play of him and Lucy Gray in the dark at the zoo which had to have been not even an hour ago.
"Are you spying on me?" He asks, offended
"You forget my mother's position in the Capitol, Coryo. She pioneered the advanced cameras The Hunger Games uses each year. Did you honestly think that there wouldn't be cameras watching the Tributes through the night?" You laugh
"So you're watching me?" He asks, clearly upset that you caught him red-handed
"You're the one skipping out on a relationship that is more important than anything that Songbird could offer." You coldly say
"You're crazy," Coriolanus says backing away from you and your camera footage
"You're one to talk, Coryo. Have you looked in the mirror recently?" You laugh, standing up
"Jealousy isn't a good look on you." He says
"And cheating isn't a good one on you." You counter
"That wasn't cheating." He says
"Really? And what do you call kissing another person who isn't in your relationship called?" You ask
"I don't need to explain my actions to you." He says
"You don't have to." You say "I hope she's worth all your trouble, considering she could die tomorrow."
"She'll win." He assures himself
"If she doesn't I'm sure you'll be quite sad, given you're so taken with her." You say, walking over to your desk where a vase of white roses sits, he gave them to you the day of the reaping. You pull them from the vase and walk towards him.
"What are you doing?" He asks as you get closer
"Returning your gifts." You say sharply before tossing them at him "Give them back to Grandma'am I'm sure she'll be glad to have them back in her greenhouse."
"You're acting insane." He says holding the roses gently
"I'm not. I'm just responding to everything you've done." You say coldly
"You know all those past boyfriends of yours, one of them said you were insane. I should have listened." He says, pointing an accusing finger at you
"Oh please. I'm insane?" You laugh
"Yeah, you are. And this," He points to himself and then you "Is over."
You watch as Coriolanus tosses his roses on the floor before storming out of your room, and presumably out of your family's home. From your window that overlooks the front of the house, you see him cast one more glance at you from the front yard.
"Oh, Coryo, you'll come running back."
Part 2
In case anyone reading this is wondering I do not hate Lucy Gray in any way so don't come after me.
The teaser for Part Two can be found here
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obsessiveimpulses · 4 months
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Yuuta needy brainrot °♡
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summary: needy yuuta interrupts your girls night
cw: slight breeding kink, phone sex, exhibitisiom ? , subboy!yuuta , porn w a lil plot
an: first submission here,,, im welcome to any ideas and feel free to leave some feed back !! thanks:^)
☆°○
You laid next to Nobara, both propped up by your elbows. Your jaws hung slack as the blue light shined from her laptop. You were watching the latest hit romcom that Nobara had been begging you to watch with her for ages. It took her so long to convince you - only about 50 rejections for you to finally say yes. You were always just too busy with Yuuta, truthfully he just never wanted to leave your side. And you never wanted to leave his
Yuuta was a bit of the overprotective, obsessive type. You had to practically beg him stay at Nobaras tonight. Nonetheless, you love him for it despite knowing it probably wasn't healthy.
~~~~~
"Please, Yuuta..." you said cupping his large pale hands with your own, "it's just one night I'll be back first thing tomorrow, I promise." You stood between his legs, his big tired eyes looking up into yours. He shook his heading before dropping it, his hair slightly covering his left eye.
"Fine" he mutters. His voice trembled a little before looking back up at me. But there was something in his eyes, they glistened darkly.
"Really?!"
He squeezes your hands tighter, "yes... but, that doesn't mean it won't be easy" he spoke softly. He rose taking his coat from the rack and gently placing it over your shoulders. He grabbed your bag from the floor, passing it to you.
"Don't worry you'll be fine Yuuta, it's only for one night" you reassured him.
"I never said for me" he mumbled his voice smooshed by his lips caressing your forehead. His hands grabbed the side of your head, holding you close as you shivered from the touch of his cold ring.
~~~~~~
Nobara reached over twisting your hair between her fingers mindlessly. Her bed was ever so soft but it wasn't us soft as Yuuta's.
Bzzz Bzzz Bzzz
Nobara and I jumped at the vibrations sent through the bed. "Who's that?" she questioned leaning over to try and peek.
"It's probably just Yuuta..." you sighed sitting up, "I should just see what he wants." Nobara sighed as well, not wanting to be interrupted on your only time together.
Answering the phone you spoke, "hello? Yuuta?" Silence answered back.
"Yuuta, what's up?" Asking again patiently waiting for an answer.
"Baby..." Yuuta choked out, followed by muffled sounds of the bed creaking and sheets rustling. "Yeah, is everything okay?" You inquired.
"No.. baby I need your help" he spoke softly his voice consistently broken up with small sharp breaths. He continued panting into the phone, pleading your name.
"Yuuta! Are you okay?!" Your voice raised as you grew anxious and impatient. Worrying you brought your hand to your mouth chewing along your nail. Your heart beat faster, it echoed through your mind like a drum.
"Darling ... I... ugh" he moaned into the phone.
Huuuuuh.... your mind went blank.
"nggh ... can't take it anymore, need your sweet pussy baby" he moaned breathlessly his sweet little whines ever so soft. A knot growing into your stomach.
"Yuuta... are you?" you sighed into the phone. A wave of relief washed over you before quickly being replaced by a swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. He was right he wasn't going to make this easy, for you.
"m'mmm.. so close" he choked out. Followed by squelching and sniffles. Tears rolled down his cheeks, he couldn't help it. He fisted his cock, his back arching as he moaned into the phone echoing into your ear.
"so sorry baby, please forgive me but I just can't help it... need you... need your voice" he whined growing closer chasing the building feeling growing in his balls.
You pictured him sprawled across the bed. Seeing him vividly leaking from his slit, precum dripping down his length onto his balls and in-between his upper thighs. You could only imagine the mess he's making. A bead of sweat rolling down his forehead mixing in with his salty tears before dropping onto his lip.
"Yuuta, it's okay" you mumbled. "Don't stop baby I'm here for you." His moans pierced through your brain. In that moment you wanted nothing more than to see or at least hear him cum for you. To at least hear him cum from nothing but the simple sound of your voice.
Hearing your praise the feeling intensifies. His strokes become harder, faster and louder. The squelching sounds and his soft pleas for release growing louder. You almost forgot Nobara sat right next to you, her face contorted with confusion.
You shrug your shoulders and wave your hand with dismissal at her hoping she would just ignore you. Most importantly, you were praying she couldn't hear Yuuta's whines.
"ugh darling.. don't want to waste my cum," Yuuta barely gets out in between moans, "should be deep in you instead."
"It's okay Yuuta, just show me... after" you say but really you want to see it now. At this rate it wasn't going to be long before you soaked through your jeans.
With this Yuuta is determined to make a huge mess just to show you how much he needs you. His needy moans become more desperate filled with more fuuuucks than ever before.
"Fuck.. I'm gonna cum baby," Yuuta whines rocking his hips up into his hands. "Pleaseee, say I love you... need to hear you."
"I love you Yuuta" you say. Your pussy throbs for him just as his cock throbs for you. Before he can even tell he's cumming, his hands are covered with cum as he crys out for you. His hips buck up high picturing himself deep inside you.
He chuckles to himself, still breathless from his sweet release.
"Ugh so good.. I love you, goodnight" yuuta coos before abruptly hanging up. That bitch!
So, he's just going to tease me and beg for me like that and not even say thank you after! You sigh angrily taking your phone away from you ear.
"What was that about?" Nobara asks.
Before answering your phone dings. It's Yuuta he's sent you an image.
'As promised my love' it reads followed by a photo of his hand stretched cum coating everywhere. Its inbetween his fingers and all over his cock. Is this how much he usually cums in me?! You think to yourself in shock.
"Hello?" Nobara says as he snaps her fingers in front of your face.
"Fuck sorry, he just wanted to say goodnight" you say quickly. Liar may as well be written in thick black ink over your forehead with how red your face is.
Yuuta you fucking bastard. I'll get you back for that.
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suashii · 9 months
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୨♡୧ LONELY EYES, LONELY BOY — gojo x reader. sfw. eventual fluff.
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gojo satoru is the loneliness boy you’ve met.
if you told anyone you thought that, they’d laugh in your face and ask if you were talking about the same person. the guy that’s invited to and attends every party on campus? the one who throws himself into all the sports and clubs he can possibly manage? you can admit that he’s a social butterfly but, despite the many faces that surround him and the constant smile playing at his lips, there’s an emptiness behind gojo’s cerulean irises.
it’s strange, you think, that you’ve picked up on this isolated variant of his. everyone knows of gojo but not many people truly know him and you’re no exception. although, the sneaking glances you steal when he thinks no one is watching are telling. you don’t miss the way his bright blues stare off into space while he absentmindedly taps his pencil against his desk as the professor lectures. the way he slips away from the thick of the crowd to step outside onto the patio and take a silent moment for himself isn’t lost on you. you wonder if he’s aware of how transparent he can be if someone cares to look hard enough.
even though you can only call him an acquaintance or classmate at best, those fleeting glimpses of loneliness and solitude you happen to catch lingering in his eyes blanket you with an air of melancholy.
how can someone so prominent, so well-liked, also be so alone?
you ask yourself that question a lot, especially during those moments when the gojo everyone knows and loves disappears and is traded in for the one disguised to hide his woes. he’s here now, at the university-sanctioned event held to honor and acknowledge the outstanding students on campus.
he wears a bright smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, as he greets and converses with the many professors and advisors that approach him to share their congratulations on his academic achievements. not once do you see anyone aside from the faculty at his side.
when there’s finally a break in the flow of bodies around him, gojo takes the opportunity to wipe his palms on his thighs before leisurely making his way to the door. all too soon, the white fluff of his hair is no longer visible. you quickly excuse yourself and scurry off to follow behind him.
you’re nervous that he decided to call it a night when you finally push past the heavy, metal door but the concrete steps leading down to the parking lot aren’t unoccupied. he’s situated on the far right side of the stairs, hands folded together and head tilted up toward the star-littered sky. his eyes look bluer, brighter, in the dimness of the night—but they’re blank, vacant.
he’s physically present but you have no idea where his mind is. and maybe it isn’t your place to figure that out, but you want to know. that’s why you’re feet are carrying you down the steps before you consider the fact that he might have come out here because he wanted to get away from everyone—including you. but the scuffing of your shoes drifting through the air and the movement beside him doesn’t even alert him of your arrival which is enough to convince you that he shouldn’t be alone right now.
you quietly clear your throat. “hi.”
at your voice, gojo turns to you with his signature smile. it’s jarring how promptly and effortlessly the switch between the two happens. it’s clearly practiced which sends a pang to your heart—he’s been doing this for a while.
“well, hello.” he returns your greeting naturally, running a hand through his windswept hair. it’s the only indication that you caught him off guard. if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that was all there was to it. “to what do i owe the pleasure?”
“oh, i was just getting some fresh air.” you nod as if it’ll make your lie more believable. you’ve never been one to pride yourself on your patience, though, and you’re almost sure your curiosity is going to kill you if you don’t just spit it out. so you do, jerking your head in the direction of the parking lot before asking, “still waiting on your parents?”
“hm?” he hums, the grin he wears slipping for a split second before it’s back in place, as though the lapse never happened. gojo shakes his head. “no, they’re away on business. they send their congratulations, though.” he smiles as he says it, but there’s a concealed bitterness lingering in his voice like he wanted them here but expected they wouldn’t be coming.
you hate the thought of this being normal for him but you have no right to speak on his family life. there’s one thing you think you can do for him in this moment. you nudge his shoulder with yours, lips curling up into a playful smile. “you can have mine for the night. they have more than enough parental proudness to go around.”
he chuckles softly. it’s much different than the boisterous laugh you’re used to hearing bounce off the walls of whatever room you’re in. it’s a gentle noise that makes your heart flutter in your chest and the smile tugging at your lips widen.
“thanks,” and you can tell by his tone that the rest of his sentence won’t be what you want to hear, “but i’m fine on my own.”
you shouldn’t have to be, you almost blurt out before biting your tongue. you ask yourself why this sad reality of gojo’s frustrates you so much and it doesn’t take you more than a couple of seconds to put your finger on it. it’s because no one else is. the people who should be—his family, the ones who consider themselves his friends—they don’t care. maybe that’s why you do.
you turn your body so you’re facing him—really facing him. you want him, need him, to know that someone sees past the shield he puts up to hide his silent struggle. he needs to know that you care. it’s a long shot, but you know you’ll regret it if you don’t try. “are you doing anything after this?”
“no,” he draws out the vowel, entertained by your question. he has no idea where you’re going with this but he certainly intends on finding out. with an elbow propped on his thigh, gojo rests his chin in the palm of his hand, putting his dimpled smile on perfect display for you. thick white lashes brush the tops of his cheeks as he blinks in curiosity. “why?”
“i was just thinking,” you trail off before finding your voice again, “that you deserve to have someone to celebrate with. and i know of a café that serves really good desserts nearby.”
the corners of his lips twitch before they slowly fall, not because he’s unhappy, but because he’s surprised. he wasn’t sure what you planned on asking him but he didn’t think it would be an invitation, especially not one to honor his accomplishments. no one else in his life bothered to even attend this event with him and he can’t imagine they would have offered to take him out after if they had shown up. but you, someone he’s spoken to so little that he can count the number of times on one hand, just did.
it shouldn’t, but his palpable shock makes you bite the inside of your cheek to hold back a smile. you were almost positive he was going to turn you down but his reaction has given you hope that he might accept your suggestion. you give in and let the smile pull your lips up as you place a hand on his knee and give it a gentle squeeze.
“so… how about it?” you ask.
maybe you can be the one to make this lonely boy a little less lonely.
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thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎
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writingmeraki · 11 months
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hot & cold I
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READ PART TWO HERE !
a min ho mini series !
summary : Feeling the warm butterflies in your stomach as well as the cold sinking feeling in your heart wasn't the best especially just because of one person nonetheless you think it was worse because that person was none other than the guy you apparently hated with your entire existence.
( or you long crossed the blurry lines of love and hate when it came to Minho and were both just idiotic enough to not realise that until you had to force it out of yourself because of your stupidity.)
genre : angst, fluff, comfort !
pairing : minho x fem!reader, e2l, idiots to lovers.
warnings : mentions of alcohol and underage drinking, kissing and making out, cussing. both being dumb and too high on their ego. kinda blame it on Minho in this one I fear 😨
author's note : and as my obsession goes crazy, I knew I had to write a miniseries on Minho. I honestly have no idea how long it can be this time, it'll mostly depend on your feedback but also how long I make this but expect 2-3 parts more ?? this was written out of nowhere tbh because I had a really different idea for this. anyways enjoy and let me know what you think ! <3 ( not proofread as usual, we die like real men 😀)
based on this request !
word count : 4.3k
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"Maybe you should put that down now."
Kitty said, observing the way you tipped down the cocktail, be it a secret yet not secret alcoholic one.
You winced and shook your head as you smashed the glass down after, Kitty having to shoot an apologetic look to the temporary bartender, who wanted nothing more than to be anywhere else but a party of drunk and horny teenagers sneaking in alcohol and downing it as though they were going through all stages of grief at the moment or in moments of classical teenage stupidity.
"Oh- KAY! I think that's more than enough." She pulled your hands away from the other cocktail that was served up,despite this one now being the only non-alcoholic, she felt it was getting a lot and you whined at her, she narrowed her eyes at you.
"Y/N, you've had more than enough."
"Noooo, I'm fine I can handle ittt." Your words slurred and she gave you a blank stare, holding up two fingers, she asked
"Okay then, how many fingers I am holding up?"
You narrowed your eyes, trying to think hard and giggled as you spoke
"Kitty, Katty since when did you have six fingers?" A drunken smile sat on your face as you leaned forward pointing your finger to count the 'six' fingers.
You vision was blurry but you were still able to make out the outline of what was in front of you.
Kitty rolled her eyes and sighed softly "How much did you even have?"
You put up both your hands, all fingers up and her eyes widened almost comically, it only made you giggle at her expressions,
"TEN? please tell me TEN sips!"
"Nooo silly, of course not…it was just three glasses with that sercret ingredient." You whispered to her as you leaned in closer as though you were telling a top secret and in a way it was, your lips were turned upwards, dimples lightly peaking.
"Alright, we have to get you back to the dorms then! Let me call Q and Florian, then we'll go okay? You stay here. Don't move Y/N!" She pointed at you, her words strict but you couldn't think about anything other than how pretty she seemed at the moment, so without much thought you blurted out,
"You look so pretty, Kit, you really do." Your eyes were half closed but you could see her wearing a tight black dress, her hair done down and straight, her black heels only making her figure look leaner.
Kitty, despite knowing you were drunk, couldn't help but laugh at your words, she shook her head and told you one last time before disappearing to find Q and Florian as soon as she could.
Looking up, the ceiling was multicolored, flashes of blue and green danced across it and you looked in awe as if it was a piece of art.
You looked around you, noticing the way the entire place seemed to be overcrowded but people were having fun, either getting shit drunk or dancing as if it was their last time.
Welcome to your life
There's no turning back
Even while we sleep
We will find you
You smiled when you heard the familiar tune and lyrics, having hearing it from your roommate and also ended up falling in love with it, the beat was slightly altered to make it more party pop but it only made it more better.
Standing up and stumbling slightly as you made your way to the dance floor, the world looking like it was moving fast as you also moved your body along to the crowd.
You felt as though you'd been hit so hard when you ended up colliding harshly into the person and you braced yourself for the fall, feeling as if you're flying high to come crashing hard into the ground.
Acting on your best behaviour
Turn your back on mother nature
Everybody wants to rule the world
And as cliche as it could get, you didn't feel the crash instead a stronger grip on your waist pulled you back up as the side face instead hit something soft yet firm.
You looked up and you felt the same awe when you saw the multicolored ceiling as though it was a piece of art, maybe even more, as your eyes scanned his face.
It's my own design
It's my own remorse
Help me to decide
Help me make the most
Colours shone on his face, highlighting his sharp jawline that you felt yourself get lost in, you continued to scan the bridge of his nose and his cupid's bow. You looked into his eyes and only felt your haziness increase as you felt the tug in your heart. They seemed to drink you in as you did him, and your gaze turned to the way one corner of his lips turned upwards.
The arm around your waist felt warmer than it should and you definitely felt the heat on your face, your entire body even. Your knees felt more weaker as you prayed your legs didn't give up on you, and with this the grip on your waist only got tighter.
Minho looked down at you, his gaze never leaving your face as he held you up. Staring at your lips for a little longer than he should have. The fact that he felt as if there were sparks of electricity running through just by the waist around your arm and most of your body weight on his, made him only want more. More than he should be wanting.
And again, letting your intrusive thoughts take the wheel of your actions, you lifted up one hand and brushed it along his jawline.
"Ouch…paper cut." Giggling at your ridiculous joke, you rested your head on his shoulder now, moving your arms around his broad shoulders.
Naturally, his own arms now fully wrapped around your waist and if someone, which more than a few heads turned, saw you in this position, it'd look more intimate than it should. Considering how far down you both go.
Minho smiled unknowingly, the sound of your giggles always making his heart race more than it should.
"I know you're clumsy as fuck, but I didn't think you'd fall for me this soon, I guess it would happen soon anyways considering how intelligent and good looking I am."
Your eyes moved to look up into his, noticing his lips pulled into a smirk that really only did more things unbeknownst to you,and you narrowed them before slurring out,
"You sound exactly like Minho, I actually thought it was almost you." You continued mumbling,
"But I know it's definitely not him, considering he was already busy with that…Madison." You rolled your eyes, slowly shutting them and you pushed your head back down onto his shoulders and moved closer to the crook of his neck, craving the warmth he radiated.
"Plus I'm sure he'd let me fall face first on the ground if I fell on him the way I just did." You mumbled into his neck, he felt himself control the shiver that run down his spine when your lips touched his neck as you mumbled.
Frowning, he spoke up, wanting to defend himself even if it seemed pointless,
"No, he wouldn't." He said firmly and you looked up at him as you thought of his words,
"Considering how we are, I don't think I'm wrong to assume he'd do that." Even though you were drunk, you spoke the words more smoothly as if it was a whole truth.
"Besides I don't even care what he does, he can go kiss that…that girl for all I care, no I definitely don't care if he does this with her, if he looks at her like that way."
Minho's expression turned down, his eyebrows furrowing and his lips pulled into a frown,
"What way?" He asked softly as he could see your eyes tearing up and you gulped sadly and you put on a dejected smile,
"How I wish, I wish he'd look at me, for once." You said more gently, whispering letting your vulnerable feelings speak up.
He only felt his heart sinking the more he took in the sadness and vulnerability showing on your face, he felt his guilt double than it had before as he recalled why he'd even been making out with Madison in the first place.
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He'd felt his entire focus zone in on the person who'd just walk in the place.
Even as much as he seemed to hate your mere presence, his eyes always seemed to drift towards you much to his annoyance.
His gaze felt heavy as it dragged from the shoes you'd worn to the hairstyle you'd done. Your outfit consisted of a maroon tight dress that had ended just below your knees, a teasing slit running just a little further up your left side, just enough to make someone want to see more.
Your lips were a similar shade of maroon as you smiled, depths forming on your cheeks that tugged at his heart, your hair done down and resting just below your shoulders.
You looked…you looked better than he could even describe.
Beautiful would be a word, but he thinks it underwhelms you.
Kitty was beside you in her black dress and her hair done down but his eyes couldn't stop drinking you in as if it was not enough for him.
He wanted something he shouldn't. He shouldn't be thinking about you right now the way he is.
He forced himself to look away, searching for someone else in the crowd.
He looked better than he should and you hated the way your eyes moved to the dip between his throat and shirt.
Gosh that's such an ugly fucking colour you thought yet you felt fainter as your eyes scanned the way his hair was parted, something you knew only he could pull off. Some loose strands sat on his forehead and you hated the way you felt your legs almost give up in these tight heels as you took in the way the blazer fit his broad shoulders.
Fuck he looked good.
You looked at him, observing him scanning the crowd as he disappeared away.
"Let's get this party started!" Kitty said excitedly to which you lightly laughed,
"Kitty it's already started, we are already like forty minutes late because of a certain someone but sure! Love the enthusiasm! Woo!" You chuckled as you saw her excitement bubble down and then laughing along with you.
"Let's go then girls! The best place at a party, the bar!" Q threw his arms around both your shoulders as he sloshed himself between you, now pulling you towards the bar.
The bartender served up five mocktails which you thought were too beautiful looking to be drank but you raised a toast,
"Here's to meeting new people and ending our bitchless eras!" You toasted as you giggled which was followed by the rest clinking their respective glasses onto yours as you took a sip.
"Guys,I have something." Florian spoke as he pulled a flask from his blazer and your eyes widened at the sight, knowing what it was.
"Oh My God! No way… now you're the real one for this." You said as he winked at you and opened the flask, the smell already indicating what it was as he poured in a bit into yours and his.
"Ohh me too! Me too!" Kitty said as she pushed her glass towards him and he poured in hers as well.
"The last for the best." Florian spoke as he poured it in Q's drink which made him look away and you smirked as you saw him almost blush.
"Now this is a real toast." You finally clinked your drinks for the last time, now taking in a sip, wincing yet loving the bitter taste that contrasted well with the sweetness of the cocktail.
"By the way, Y/N, I don't think you're ever going to be able to meet new people." Kitty spoke which made you turn to her in confusion.
"I mean come on, you won't be able to meet new people because you already are into someone." She continued and now looked towards Q, him nodding in agreement as you still looked in confusion.
"Oh please, don't look like a lost puppy now, we all saw the way you basically bore your eyes into Min ho as soon as you saw him like a hungry vulture or something." Q said which made Florian chuckle and you only glared at his words as though looks could kill.
"You don't plan a murder out loud now do you?" You defended yourself as Kitty rolled her eyes,
"More like you'd kill anyone who'd dare even hurt a fraction of his hair." Kitty said to which now both Florian and Q nodded, feeling betrayal as you looked at Florian, thinking he'd been on your side to which he only raised his hands in his defense.
"Look, Y/N, maybe you don't see it, but you definitely go past the so called hate line you both have." He said as he knew you surely felt more for him than the passive aggressive persona you showed when he was around.
"After all they do say the lines between love and hate tend to blur." Kitty said as she took a sip of her drink and you only scoffed, ready to reply saying you knew where you stood and you were gladly under the hate side, despising Min ho because of his unbearable personality that would make you so mad.
So mad you'd want to punch his pretty face at times.
"Uh oh." Q said suddenly as his eyes caught a sight that he wished wouldn't have but they quickly widened when he realised you were literally right next to him and probably heard him.
Naturally your eyes moved to where he was looking, and oh how you wished you also didn't see what you just saw but for completely different reasons that you couldn't put a finger on at the time being.
Minho stood next to Madison as he whispered something into her ears, which made her laugh, you saw the way his arm was wrapped around her waist, hiding her close to him.
You felt like throwing up as your stomach recoil and churn, moving your eyes, not wanting to think more of this than you should. But it seemed as though it was impossible as the image replayed in your mind.
You felt the tension in the air when your face twisted bitterly, noticing your friends also tensing up and felt guilty for suddenly changing the cheerful mood.
"Guys come one now, I don't care, now go and have fun!" You reassured them as they looked at you skeptically.
"Listen, he can go and fuck around with whoever he wants, I really don't care. We shouldn't let this ruin our moods. Now go." You bit on your tongue as put on a tight smile, no usual dimples peaking, a sign it was fake.
Hearing the firmer tone at the end, Q and Florian nodded as they held hands "Okay then, find us when you need us okay?"
Q said as you just mindlessly nodded and they also moved into the flow of the crowd.
Kitty still looked at you skeptically but you just smiled at her, now a genuine one telling her to go on and finish her agenda of meeting new people.
At least one of you seemed ready to move on.
"Thank you." You heard a voice suddenly speak up from beside you as you sat nursing the cocktail in your hands, it's coolness relieving the warmth your body felt.
"Oh someone with manners, I like that." You said putting down your drink, deciding that if he can fuck around when he wants, who were you to not as well.
The guy next to you turns towards you, him taking in your figure, a smirk forming on his face as he realised who you were.
"I'm Geon." He said to which you smiled.
"Y/N." You spoke up to which he chuckled which made you a bit confused,
"Oh I know." You raised an eyebrow at his words,
"It's an honor to have the hottest girl here talking to me." He said with a grin as you then lifted your drink to take another sip, after which you giggled at his words, even though you didn't think you would have even been phased if it weren't for the alcohol now slowly flowing in your system.
"Oh yeah? Tell me more." You leaned in closer to him with a smug smile, biting your lip lightly to which you think again, this probably wouldn't be happening right now if it weren't for the liquid courage or your mess of an emotional baggage.
This whole spectacle was being seen by someone who'd otherwise think you were both already together. He rolled his eyes, looking away as he clicked his tongue, folding his arms and a scowl of both disgust and jealousy forming on his face.
Of course.
He thought looking back at the pair of Geon and you.
"I think she's better than all the other girls, even Yuri, people say she's the prettiest but don't realize that they are wrong. And Kitty next to you looks so underwhelming but both of them are nothing but plain next to you."
And despite you starting to feel more tipsy, you controlled the urge to just flip him off.
Instead you leaned in closer, raising one hand and cupping his face, bringing your face near his ear, as though you'd whisper about how he was definitely right, a light smile forming on his face.
That's what he thought at least.
Chuckling lowly, you whispered sweetly,
"You know sweety, what type of men I absolutely despise?"
You briefly made eye contact with him when he looked down at you from the corner of his eye.
"The ones who bring women down in hopes of getting into my pants and thinking that will actually work."
You trailed your hand down his neck, fingers lightly touching, he gulped as he shivered under your touch, the grin forming on his face long gone when he heard the venom lacing your tone.
"Let alone the fact that they are my best friends, and trust me, if I wanted to I'd punch the shit out of you right now but,listen to me carefully."
You rested your hand on his collarbone,
"No girl is meant for your judging pleasure especially not for undeserving dickheads like you and if you dare talk to me again, trust me, I can do much worse than you can think."
You leaned back and patted his chest, grinning widely, but your eyes said a completely different story.
"Now. Fuck off."
And fuck off he did as he swallowed nervously, turning around and moving into the crazy crowd,mumbling something under his breath, you not really caring to pay attention to his words as you sighed out, rubbing your forehead with your fingers.
Men are nothing but disappointment, what did I even expect ?
"Hey guess what!- what happened to you?" Kitty said as she suddenly appeared from your right side making you surprised but you smiled at her reassuringly, not wanting her to know what that jerk said for obvious reasons.
"Oh it's nothing, it's getting noisy that's all." Kitty didn't seem convinced at all because she did spot you talking to Geon, not wanting to interrupt when he saw you whispering something to him,
Huh so she really was serious about the whole meeting new people thing?
But when he walked away looking a little paler, she figured it was not exactly what it looked like, deciding that she should intervene now.
"Oh-kay but you know what, I just…" You now looked forward your back facing the bar as you placed your elbows on the counter, leaning onto them, raising an eyebrow at her for her to continue,
"I am glad I came here, I'm glad we all did, I'm happy, for once and it feels so…so good to be happy with you guys who I didn't think would even be my friends."
She said smiling at you, her sitting down next to your stool, and you turned your neck, looking at her now,
You smiled, finally a genuine one and it showed when your dimples showed,
"I'm glad I met you guys as well." You told her and just as she was about to say something, her eyes trailed towards your left, narrowing to make sure she was seeing right.
She froze when she saw you look at her, naturally wanting to see what made her look the way she was looking right now.
"Uh! Well look you know I'm happy you…uh well you agreed to come here!" She pulled your shoulders a little forcefully, the rotating barstool moving and making you now face her.
You looked perplexed at her behaviour, especially how she almost knocked you out but she just smiled at you, a little too forcefully.
"I just think you should know you deserve better than you think and even if it's not-"
"Kitty."
You called out to her, stopping her rambling, moving your hands up from off your shoulders.
"What's got you so…so nervous all of a sudden?" You questioned seeing her eyes still fixated behind you, her hand stopping you again from turning around.
"I just don't think you should see this. Really." She swallowed nervously and you waved her off,
"It's not that deep Kitty chill." You said but how you wished you'd listen to her.
You went rigid, seeing the sight now in front of you and clenched your jaw.
There was Minho in all his glory, kissing, no more like passionately making out with none other than Madison.
He had his arms around her waist as she played with his hair, and you could see her smile into the kiss. His mouth moved from her lips to her jawline and you watched her giggle as he seemed to be whispering something that made her laugh only more.
Fuck.
Why did it feel like someone just ripped your heart out and smashed it right in front of you with their bare hands?
You turned towards the bar, squeezing your eyes shut, holding your head in your hands as you felt the pounding in it get harder.
You gulped harshly trying to squeeze the image out of your brain,
"Y/N." Kitty put her hand on your shoulder, her warm touch contrasting the coldness you felt.
"Ah, I should have listened to you." You laughed but it held no humour. You could feel your emotions go all over the place as you replayed everything you'd seen till now.
Both of them laughing together, him looking at her as if she was the only on there, him focusing on her as if she was the only one there, him making out with her as if she'd slip away from his hands.
"You know what maybe I just need a little drink." You raised your hand up calling for the bartender and asking for two cocktails.
You put your hand out to Kitty expectedly, her frowning at the way you tried to act as if it was all right but she could see the unshed tears on your lash line.
Before she could say anything, you asked her quickly,
"Where's that whisky Florian gave you?" Talking about the flask she'd been hiding in her purse that was given to her by Florian.
"Y/N, you can't just drink away your emotions like this, you can't even handle alcohol-"
"Kitty, I'll be fine, just…just give it to me please?"
She sighed, she knew about your tendency to avoid talking about your feelings. She just opened up her purse and removed the flask just as the bartender served the drinks.
You took it from her and poured a questionable amount but you didn't really care at the moment, wanting to feel the high rather than the heaviness you currently felt creeping in your chest.
Raising a toast to yourself, you grinned up at Kitty, a sorrowness that only made her feel more and more sympathic for you.
"Here's to the most unluckiest person at the moment, me!"
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That was now half an hour ago, and here you were now wrapped tightly around the very person who'd made you feel miserable in the first place.
"You know it's not even his fault. We don't even like each other. I'm pretty sure he hates me but why the fuck does it hurt so bad?" You whined as you pulled away from the supposed stranger's, attractive one at least, body and stood up on your own.
You pushed his arms away from you and you almost stumbles but held one hand out when he tried to hold you again to prevent you from falling,
"Y/N you'll fall-"
"No, I'm fine, I swear. I don't even know why I just dumped that weird emotional baggage onto you, sorry."
"Thank you anyways, for you know saving me from breaking my own face right there, if you want me to repay you, just come to Chemistry class first period on Monday!"
You stepped away from him and trying to not cry because no matter how drunk you were you didn't want to cry over some stupid boy.
Minho stood there, his eyes downcast as he remembered the look on your face, he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily.
How do I even begin ?
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READ PART TWO HERE !
all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri.do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.
writingmeraki Ⓒ 2023
feedback is appreciated hehe :D 💗
links : main navi !
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sasayego · 4 months
Text
touches
prompt — all the ways jason todd touches you / jason todd x reader
tags — some nsfw
A STORMY SEA AT BAY;
his fingers are harsh, and you wince when he grips at you like. that.he doesn't mean to hurt you, by god, no. he doesn't ever want to see you flinch. and as soon as you do, he stumbles back.
you realize what's happened. he's going to hate himself now. "jason, no—" you call out, reaching for him, but he stumbles back and runs into the darkness of the night where it'll shroud him. and in that night, he basks in his anger and self-loathing for a while before the boy in blue comes to calm him down. you sometimes wish you could, but he'd be too ashamed.
"i'm sorry," he mumbles when he's back in your arms. he holds you, tight, but not like when he was angry. there is a silver tear dancing on the edge of his eye but he never lets it drop. "i didn't mean to." and you know he doesn't so you hug him back and don't say a word.
EUPHORIA IN A SKY OF STARS;
he grips your thighs as tight as possible, and his face is buried between the valley of your thighs. he's letting out sighs of pleasure through quiet muffles as the only thing you can hear is the sound of your own whimpers and his comments—"fuck, pretty girl, you look so fuckin' good right now. give me another one, yeah?"
your thighs are shaking and you cannot even think properly, not when his eyes are hazy and he looks up at you like that. his fingers are digging so deep into your flesh that they draw out bruises, his tongue swirling around, and occasionally his teeth graze over your inner thighs. you forget that his helmet is to the side, that you're on a rooftop and anyone can appear in seconds and see you two like this. "best fuckin' thing i've tasted in my entire life," he croons, as he shoves two fingers in you.
SLEEPING IN AT SUNRISE;
his touches are gentle, soft. your hands run over the bruises he's collected from last night, and the blood that's dried on his hair or his head or back from last night's patrol and you worry about him. your fingers cup his jaw and you plant delicate butterfly kisses over his face in worry. "i worry about you, jay," you say when he whines at the touch but you know he adores it.
"i'm alive in one piece, aren't i?" he muffles as he flips over to the side so his back faces you. you pout and he knows you're pouting. he flips right back in a flash and he grabs you by the neck and pulls you close before pressing a kiss on your forehead and pushing. yourhead so it lies in the crook of his neck.
"i'm never leaving you," he murmurs, his eyes hooded and lazy. "it's gonna take everything in this universe and more for me to ever even think about not making it back to you." and those are just words, you know, but words have a lot of meaning.
I THINK ABOUT YOU EVEN IF I DON'T KNOW IT;
"so that's what i said to him that other day!" that blonde girl laughs, brushing her arm against jason. jason just nods at her, doesn't even mean to say anything ot her and just keeps his blank face. you've been scowling at her for the past five minutes, and for the past four minutes, she's pretended like you don't exist.
jason looks down at where she's touched him and then shrugs. "i have to go get a drink," he says blankly, his face neutral. the both of you turn around in near perfect sync and start walking down together. jason grits his teeth in anger, thinking about something else (maybe how that blonde girl has been treating you), and takes your hand and squeezes it. he squeezes it so hard it hurts a bit.
"jason," you wince, looking at your red hand. it's cutting off blood. he looks down at your hand in surprise and then his eyes widen for a few seconds before letting it go.
"i'm so sorry, i didn't know i was holding your hand, and with that grip—" you shush him peacefully.
RED IS JASON TODD'S COLOR
"fuck," jason snarls as he pushes you against the wall. there's something in his eyes. jealousy. red is always jason's best color to wear, you've known that for sure. his hand wraps around your throat and he kisses you hard.
"you liked making me jealous, didn't you?" he challenges, raising an eyebrow. there's a glimmer in his eyes as his lips bite down on your neck so hard that there's a faint sliver of blood. you let out a yelp. "seeing me all riled up for a guy whose cock is probably the tiniest fuckin' thing you've ever seen. tell me, did you like me jealous of a guy who can't even please you the way you know i can?"
you open your mouth to answer, but he clamps his hand. over before ou can speak. "don't even fucking answer," he snarls, before ripping your jeans off from your body. you didn't even know anybody could do that. "i'm about to teach you what the right answer is."
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faeryarchives · 3 months
Text
so, what are we?
alternate title: it makes you think what do you two currently have because you are already being lovey dovey but doesn't know what stage your relationship is currently at 😂
note: tldr ano nga ba kayo 😂 🫵
recent fics: in sickness and in health & happy birthday (malleus x reader) & when your hopless streamer gets a girlfriend (ace x reader)
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༊*·˚ what do you mean? we are dating right?: oh bless their pure (not) souls because when they asked that it was like asking you if the sky was blue and looking at you as if you just said something crazy because what do you mean 'what are we' ?! 🤬 they don't know whether they should panic or feel mad and they look so lost as they go on explaining how they were already making it very obvious for you that they were dating you through showering you with gifts, taking you out on dates, always being there for you + explaining how the things they do are part of their custom in dating in their hometown ARE YOU BLIND ?! 🫵 oh wait, you are not from here so you didn't know !! so it's a them problem not you 😭 well apparently it serves as a lesson to them that even though action speaks louder than words, without words it just makes everything confusing
— trey clover, leona kingscholar, jack howl, azul ashengrotto, floyd leech, kalim al asim, vil schoenheit, sebek zigvolt, malleus draconia
༊*·˚ wait, you like me too?: sure they have other friends but they thought it was normal because you two are almost best friends material but with a sprinkle of feelings and butterflies getting wild in their stomach + thinking they only have one-sided feelings but of course they wouldn't give up easily and still treat you more special than the others 🧍🏻‍♀️ after hearing your question, their world actually stopped moving as he had to think about what you just said like is this real? his mind is still buffering but he slowly turns to you and start shaking your body back and forth asking you to repeat what you had just said 😵‍💫 might think you are playing with them until you made it very clear + boy you were shocked when they didn't waste another moment to swoop you in their arms and actually sob in happiness whispering to you 'thank you for choosing me' 🥺🫂
— deuce spade, riddle rosehearts, epel felmier, idia shroud, silver
༊*·˚ we are... happy! + two best friends in a room: oh they know what is going on they are not blind 😂 they might tease you at first that you two are more than friends yet less than lovers BUT inside they were only waiting for the right time to ask you out directly without any mixed signals that is why they are doing the best they can !! they don't want you to be with them in such state and would probably settle with the two of you being happy AT THE MOMENT but when directly confronted by you, they would eventually give in and confess everything 👩🏻‍⚖️ they are not usually the ones to voice out their true feelings (except for rook and lilia) but when the time comes where you admit that you thought you had something really special to the point you thought you were already lovers - this man would literally blank out on the spot and blush + probably regretting why they didn't confess sooner like why settle for less when they can have more aka being in a true relationship with you 🫵
— ace trappola, cater diamond, floyd leech (2), idia shroud (2), ruggie bucchi, jade leech, rook hunt, lilia vanrouge
༊*·˚ wrote 5 whole essays only to say they forgot to confess: oh buckle up because they wouldn't back down with this question because they would come up with literally five pages worth on how could you think of that way? how could you forget everything you had together 🤬 grim is watching everything unfold like his parents are going through divorce or smth 😭 similar to the first scenario they thought they already made it very clear that they are asking for your hand in dating but as your discussion and their essay goes deeper it turns out they haven't confessed to you at all 🫨 !! they will try to say something but nothing comes out then silence then cue them finally realizing they fucked up because all this time they thought you were avoiding their advances but it turns out you didn't want to accept it without any assurance so expect a lot of catching up and dates you are going because they want to make it up to you 🧍🏻‍♀️
— riddle rosehearts (2), azul ashengrotto, jamil viper, sebek zigvolt (2)
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jasonsmirrorball · 8 months
Text
BLOOD IN YOUR MOUTH JASON TODD (college!au)
↳ the first time jason kisses you he's bloody and bruised, and you can't find him more attractive for it
cw: injury, blood, mentioned harassment (not of the reader)
blank blogs DNI you will be blocked
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The first time Jason kisses you, he’s bloody and standing underneath a streetlight outside the bar he’s just been kicked out of. You’re utterly enamoured.
It is a Saturday afternoon, and you’ve just submitted your last midterm when the text comes through. The outline of his name on your phone sends a thrill down your spine, and you can’t help the curl of excitement. 
J-A-S-O-N. 
You trace your eyes over the letters, the blank contact photo doing little to curb the butterflies. They’re no less stronger than when he’d asked you for your number, a warm afternoon after class when the both of you had found your way to the your usual table in the library. You recall the reason he’d used, recall the slant of his mouth as he’d talked, the clutch of his bag in his fingers, the way the light had bent through the window and caught the dust floating above the table. You recall suddenly warm palms, fingertips hot to the touch as you saved his number when the first message had come through. 
>> come out tonight?
You frown.
While it’s true that since the beginning of the semester you’ve gotten to know Jason better and as a not entirely unpleasant consequence, been better about hiding away, you’re still tired from the back to back assignments you’ve had to turn in. You’d much rather turn in for the weekend. 
And yet, when it comes to the handsome boy you’d met in your literature class last semester, you find it hard to say no. You want to hang out with him so badly sometimes it feels embarrassing. You wonder if it’s obvious how you both soak up his attention and shy away from it. Even months later, you find yourself bashful around him.
As if sensing your hesitation, another two messages come through almost immediately, in rapid succession.
>> it’ll be fun
>> dinner’s on me btw
You chew your lip, staring down at the message. 
<< i'm kind of tired idk
<< where do you wanna go
The text bubble appears as you begin to pack your things, sweeping papers off your desk and into a neat pile, collecting cluttered pens and highlighters. The last week has turned your bedroom into something akin to a disaster site, clothes strewn everywhere and sheets rumpled. You bite back a groan at the thought of the cleaning you’ll have to do. 
>> i know a place like ten minutes away from campus
>> drinks after?
<< presumptuous
<< i haven't even agreed
>> ok so agree !
>> it’ll be a good time
You huff out a laugh at his tone, typing out a response.
<< who else is going?
>> just you and me kid
>> be excited
>> i’ll drop you home if you wanna leave after dinner
In the bathroom now, tidying the mess of skin and hair products, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You tilt your head, and your reflection does too, as if to say, well? Will you?
You text him your response.
<< ok when should i meet you?
<< send me the address
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Jason is lingering outside the restaurant when you walk up, and you take a moment to admire him as you approach, hands in his pockets and shoulders slouched, relaxed. His hair looks wet, and orange light washes over him where he stands beneath an awning, a sky of darkening blue behind him. As if sensing your approach, he turns his head from where he’s been looking at something across the street and his eyes light up in recognition. Your name tumbles from his lips and he takes a step forward as you cross the distance.
“Hey,” he greets you, smiling down at you. “You made it.”
“I said I would, didn’t I?” you murmur. His lips stretch into a wider grin and you catch a glimpse of his canines, wolf sharp, a shiver curling down your spine at the sight.
“Guess you did. I’m glad. Come on,” he says, jerking his chin and reaching for the door, letting you enter first. “I think you’ll like this place.”
His shirt brushes against your back, and you swallowed by the sheer size of him, tall and broad shouldered, but it feels reassuring to have him there, especially as the hostess makes eye contact with you and he smoothly coordinates everything. His hand bumps against your elbow as she leads you both to a table and he murmurs out an apology at the same time you do, habitually, shooting you a funny look when he hears you, like he’s amused.
You’re seated across from him at a table so small his knees bump against yours beneath the table and he laughs a little when you say sorry once again. It isn’t the first time you’ve hung out with him, or the first time you’ve gotten food together–a semester has come and gone since your meeting him, and now the fall semester has started up again, but he has a way of short-circuiting your system, earnest and straightforward and far prettier than he has any right to be. You aren’t used to boys like him–though a voice in your head suggests that there isn’t anyone else like him. 
You offer him a small smile when he laughs. 
“Can’t believe they stuck us here,” he says to you, dropping his voice as a waiter passes your table. You look over to where a fair few tables far larger than yours remain unoccupied, and grimace in sympathy. “At least the food is good.”
You look up from the menu, sparing him a glance. He’s all rounded edges and sweeter looking in the soft light. You look back down.
“You’ve been here before?” you ask, feeling silly for the question but he nods.
“My brother took me, when I first moved out here,” he says, scratching idly at his cheek. Teal eyes skim the plastic menu. “We come here whenever he comes to visit.”
“Older brother?” you guess and he hums. 
“Dick,” he says, and his eyes widen when you stare at him. “His name, I mean. That’s his name…Richard, but he goes by..yeah.”
“Oh,” you laugh, as your pulse flutters under your skin. “Bet he gets a lot of flack for that.”
“You have no idea,” he snorts, launching into a story that has you covering your mouth to stifle your laughter. 
Somehow, dinner flies by faster than you think it would, a blur of stories from both your childhood and his. Jason asks questions and you don’t feel as though you’ve been put on the spot, pleasantly warm as you answer through your own laughter. The bubbles from your drink linger and pop on your tongue, and there’s a flush in your face that you blame wholly on him and his teal eyes, attentive and animated as he describes his family.
The both of you are pushing out of the door after an argument about splitting the bill (“I said I would pay, get lost!” and “I didn’t even agree to that!”) that had left you pouting and Jason smug. The rush of air that greets you is cool against your heated cheeks, and you smile to yourself as the both of you step out into the street.
“So?” Jason asks and you turn to him. “Was I right? It was good, huh?”
And he looks so pleased with himself that even if you hadn’t enjoyed a bit of it, you wouldn’t have it in you to tell  him.
“It was,” you agree and his smile grows broader.
You lapse in conversation for a moment, and a breeze ruffles his hair on its way through the lit street. It’s grown fairly busier as night falls, crowds of people out to enjoy their weekend, and you step closer to Jason as a particularly large group passes you, falling into step by his side to avoid bumping into them.
“So..home?” he asks, tentative.
“I think so.” You chew the bottom of your lip. “I got up early to get in the finishing touches on my midterm.”
His eyes go soft, almost immeasurably fond, as he gazes down at you. “Of course you did. Alright, c’mon, then. Let’s get you home.”
He takes your hand gently, fingers circling your wrist loosely and guiding you down the busy street. You find yourself appreciative of this, even as the butterflies erupt anew in your stomach at the touch, his body carving a path in the flow of foot traffic that you can fall into easily without worry of getting lost. 
The both of you walk in silence, the sounds of the city filling in the gaps around you. You admire the outline of Jason’s profile in front of you, light from the cars and storefronts washing over the both of you and throwing him into sharp technicolour focus in front of you. You feel a little dizzy at the sight of it, and looking down to where your hands join only worsens it, rendering you soft and pliant in his hold, tracing his footsteps with your own. 
And then, all of a sudden, you’re coming to a halt in front of a parking lot next to a bar, nearly colliding with his back. You blink, equal parts sleepy and stunned, peering over his shoulder where he’s stiffened up. 
“What?” you ask. He reaches into his pocket with his free hand, and turns around to pass you a set of keys. You frown, confused, following his finger when he points to an old, red car just a few feet away.
“That’s my car, I’m just gonna go check on something over there,” he says, tipping his head back to gesture to the bar. “Can you get it started for me? I won’t be long.”
“Is everything okay?” you ask, and now you’re the one holding his wrist as he turns, taking a half step after him. He looks back at you, and his mouth relaxes, offering you a reassuring nod.
“‘S fine, sweetheart,” he assures, pushing you gently in the direction of his car. “Be back in a sec.”
But curiosity roots you to the pavement where you stand, and you watch as he walks to the entrance of the bar, where murky yellow light spills out onto the walkway. Several bench tables have been pushed together on the outer side of the path, smaller tables with high stool chairs pressed against the exterior wall of the establishment. It’s fairly empty outside, all the patrons seeking shelter from the chilly weather inside and you step a little closer to see when Jason, shoulders set like a man on a mission, crosses the threshold and disappears into the building.
You creep a little closer, keys clutched in your fingers, until you can get a look through the windows. They’re a little stained, but you find Jason eventually, crowding close to a pool table where a boy around your age is leaning down, cue stick pointed against green felt. His back is to the window, but you watch the guy pause and straighten up, annoyance clear on his face even as he tries to cover it up with a smile you don’t think you like too much, self-assured and a little mean. There isn’t any friendliness in it. 
Outside, the wind begins to pick up and you’re wondering whether you should just return to the car–every bad thing in the movies happens because people can’t mind their own business–when suddenly, so fast you almost miss it, his fist flies out and knocks right into Jason. You jump in surprise, a hand flying to your mouth to muffle the startled yell that slips out. 
But Jason is seemingly unphased, and you catch a glimpse of blood in his mouth as he– smiles. It’s nothing like the smiles you’ve ever seen, wild and a little feral as he lunges forward, knuckles slamming against the boy’s cheek and sending him sprawling across the tabletop. He just gets that hit in before he’s being restrained and hauled back to the door, shoved across the threshold with no regard for gentleness. He stumbles, and that grin is still curving his mouth up when he looks up, wolfish, savage, and–it stutters when he meets your eyes.
You stare back, wide eyed at the sight of him. His keys hang limply in your hand, forgotten in favour of their owner whose nose has begun to bleed down his chin, drippin onto the collar of his shirt and staining it crimson. 
“I–thought I told you to wait in the car,” he says weakly, at last. 
“What was that?” you ask, dazed, ignoring him. You look between him and the windows of the bar, where you can still see the other boy, holding a tea towel to his split cheek. 
His lips part, and he looks away as if to search for an answer he does not have. Like a magnet, your gaze flicks down. You swallow at the smear of red that settles above his cupid’s bow, dark, almost black as the shadows on his face stretch.
“Jason.” You stress his name. He grimaces.
“I didnt-” he breaks off, letting out a loud sigh. “I knew him, okay? Didn’t do that for no reason.”
You wait, sensing the oncoming explanation. By his side, you spot the reddening skin of his knuckles, looking at home amongst the pale, faded scars.
“He’s a dick,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. It seems almost shy, the way his fingers press against his lips as he tells you the truth. “He’s in one of my classes and he was giving one of the other guys a hard time ‘cause..” 
His face hardens and you fear he’s about to go back into the bar. You hedge a step forward to clutch his sleeve. He shakes his head. You don’t let go. “Anyway, he had it coming. If it wasn’t me, it would’ve been someone else. He was bothering some girl in there too, when I saw him…piece of shit.”
Affection blooms between your ribs so suddenly it leaves you breathless, and you stare up at him, stunned.
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” he blows out a breath, watching you carefully. 
“I thought you’d hit him harder,” you blurt out, and his eyes widen. He lets out a tired laugh, wincing in between snickers.
“Don’t think you’re s’posed to agree with me, baby,” he murmurs, drawing closer. You’ve probably stretched his sleeve out with your grip, but you make no move to let go. Baby. It fits in his mouth, belongs to him, even. He’s claimed it now. 
“Right,” you breathe out, blinking up at his face. The air goes still, the undercurrents of adrenaline re-igniting with the trip of your voice over the five letter word. There is no admonishment in your tone, and teal eyes turn onyx in half a breath, lashes fluttering as he looks at you. “Violence…is bad..”
His eyes crease, amused, but he’s barely moving, and his voice comes out a little strangled. “Word of advice, don’t ever go into politics.”
“You don’t believe me?” you joke quietly and he huffs out a laugh. Once more, your gaze snags on the glimpse of his canines, peeking from below his lips, pointed and shiny.
You can smell the blood on him when he takes a step closer, the toes of his sneakers scuffing against yours. You look at him clearly, awash with the yellow light of the street, bloody and bruising. He’s lucky that he isn’t due back on campus for another two weeks, but you have a feeling it wouldn’t matter either way–he’s no less attractive to you. It should concern you that you find blood a good look on him, or that the savagery in his smile only made your heart beat a little faster, but you can only stare through half lidded eyes at him.
Somewhere down the road, the roar of an engine filters through the air, but you pay it little attention when he draws closer, closer, closer. 
You aren’t sure who moves first, only that Jason kisses you for the first time underneath that streetlight, and the taste of copper in your mouth only presses you closer into him, clutching his sleeve and hoping it leaves as much of a mark that he’s left on you. 
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i hope this made u guys feel as insane reading it as it made me writing it (and trying to post it, but for a different reason). something about a man covered in his own blood...
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♡ pairing : kim mingyu x f!reader
♡ wc : 528
♡ warnings/content includes : daddy kink, nicknames (babygirl, pretty girl etc.) , slight dumbification, size kink, squirting, overstimulation, unprotected sex.
♡ a/n : I am currently experimenting my first svt smut (thus I am not tagging anyone on my taglist cause it ain't that good 😭) in my free time (I finally finished studying for this) and thought I'd write for mine and @anyamaris 's current bias :3
@shinestarhwaa @woosanbby
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A bead of sweat rolled down your forehead, your thighs were sore as your muscles were constricted. Mingyu's large hands were wrapped around your hips, low grunts leaving his lips momentarily every time you clenched around him. His hands grasped around your wrists, holding them together as he bounced you on his large cock. Your gasps were loud as they resonated throughout the room, your cries just made his cock become harder in you.
"You sound so fucking pretty like this babygirl, so fucking hot for me." Mingyu whispers next to your ear, while soft moans leave your lips. His plump lips press soft butterfly kisses down your neck, his neck coming down to lick over every mark he left on your skin.
"D-Daddy, 'm t-tired, too much-" You could barely finish your sentence when his hips slammed up into you, while his arms held you closer. His teeth grazes over your sensitive nipple while his hips casually rutted into you roughly. Your eyes roll back from the pleasure, gosh damn Mingyu and the huge size difference you had.
The way his large hand gripped your waist like it was nothing, and the way his broad chest supported you as you leaned on him, gosh he was making you lose your mind. He finally pushes you down onto your back, his large figure hovering over you as his cock slips deep into you from the way he was pounding.
Her hand hovers below your thigh, and picks it up making you scream as he places your thigh on his shoulder.
You could practically feel his cock in your abdomen, low soft 'daddy' and 'so good' leaves your mouth. Your mind goes blank, filled with only the thought of his cock hitting your G-spot so perfectly. "My pretty girl can't form any words, can she? Aren't you just fucked dumb baby?"
His words make you clench hard around him, making him growl lowly. His hands come down to grip your waist harshly, and your thighs shudder convulsively. You could feel the intense coil building up in your abdomen, and your fingers dig into his muscles, almost drawing blood from the grip. Mingyu curses loudly, his cock twitching inside you as soon as he feels your pussy squirt all around him.
"Fuck-" And just like that, ropes of cum paint your walls, and his hands caress your hips slowly as he throws his head back. You could only moan at the warm feeling filling you up, your mind completely lost in euphoria of the orgasm.
His hips move back slightly, making his soft dick slip out of your cum filled hole. "That was so fucking hot babygirl." He says while lowering his head down between your legs. One of his long fingers, swipe over the cum leaking out of you. And soon enough his tongue wraps around his finger, tasting himself there.
You gasp when his fingers rub soft circles on your clothes out of the blue, your thighs trying to close shut only for his strong hands to prevent them from doing so. "How about you cum on Daddy's tongue, pretty girl? Don't you wanna be good for Daddy?"
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© wooyoungmybelovedhusband. All rights reserved. Do not copy, translate, or steal any of my works.
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jinwoosungs · 7 months
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{ 107 }
constellations.
lies of p
pinocchio x reader
{ with freckles like constellations | i just want a new sensation. }
- valentine by COIN
your eyes were basking in the beauty of the expanse of the universe settled directly on your lap.
pinocchio had always been a puppet that greatly fascinated you. an utterly beautiful boy in a strange, tragic world that drew you in. from his true blue eyes to his chestnut strands of hair, geppetto's puppet reminded you deeply of the princes you read in fairytales from long ago.
you were one of the few human survivors left in the wake of the petrification disease, and it was thanks to your good fortune that you were lead to hotel krat, where you met with the owner, lady antonia. she was a kind and giving, always welcoming guests like you with open arms.
and it was here that you came into contact with pinocchio.
he was twitchy, at first, and it was abundantly clear that he was a puppet. and despite how unnatural his movements were, your eyes were always drawn to his beautiful face.
his pale skin was littered with freckles, and each and every speck reminded you of tiny little stars being dotted across the skies. his gaze was steadfast, unflinching even, as you kept your eyes on him. you admired each and every part of him, even finding yourself reaching out to him.
pinocchio continues to give you a blank stare, not even stepping back when your hands unconsciously reaches out to gently grace at his cheek. you admire the soft and smooth surface of his face, allowing your fingertips to brush back his flowing locks of chestnut hair, revealing those endearing freckles.
finally realizing what you were doing, you gasp and attempt to step away. "s-sorry pinocchio...ah?"
he says nothing, simply closing his eyes before placing his cheek against the palm of your hand. you watch as pinocchio's eyes flutter close, his eyelashes brushing against your skin as soft as a butterfly's wings.
he remains in this position for a few more beats before opening his eyes fully. not saying a word, pinocchio relinquishes his hold of your hand before walking away from you-
leaving your heart a mess of rapid beats and palpitations, threatening to explode within your chest.
despite how pinocchio was a mere puppet, you couldn't stop yourself from admiring him (or having that admiration turn into something much deeper, akin to fondness.) as he continued on with his journey through krat, the more he became... alive.
it was hard to explain. maybe it was due to his soft beauty, or how you witness him treating hotel krat's cat with such a gentle curiosity and kindness, but something about p made him feel more human than puppet.
and that just made your heart yearn for him even more.
as night fell across krat, and you were in the comfort of your own room within this grand hotel, you found yourself unable to sleep. you were settled on the settee placed near the window, giving you the full view of the city and the wide expanse of the night sky. the dim lighting of the candle flickers with the night air as you drank in the sight of the fading stars, somehow feeling your thoughts drifting back to pinocchio.
"i hope he's safe."
earlier, you had voiced your concerns to eugénie and sophia, yet both women had told you not to worry, that p was strong and would likely come back unscathed.
"if it truly worries you, perhaps i can send your beloved puppet to your room?"
sophia's gentle smile and teasing words were enough to make your face heat up in response, with you weakly holding up your hands in mock denial before hurrying back to your room, your face burning at how sophia seemed to know.
so you found yourself unable to sleep, feeling embarrassed and shy at the thought of pinocchio coming in here.
as you continued to stargaze, your reveries were interrupted by a gentle knock at your door. your voice was raised a few octaves when you said, "c-come in!"
you figured it was sophia or eugénie coming to call you down for supper, but what you weren't expecting to see was pinocchio himself come in.
"pinocchio?!" his name comes out of your parted lips in a choked gasp, heart beating almost painfully now at the mere sight of him. despite how he was still technically a puppet, you could see the changes he was beginning to display.
the p that stood before you now no longer had those wavy locks of chestnut hair. instead, his hair has grown longer, and a bit lighter as well. it was difficult to describe the color of his hair, but if you had to try, you'd say it was like the shade of a full moon. those gentle strands shone like spun silver against the moonlight, and he was so utterly beautiful that you found it hard to breathe.
he closes his eyes, seeming to take in a deep breath before letting out a whisper of your name. hearing the familiar syllables causes a shiver to run up and down your spine, and you could feel your heart melting within your chest at the sound of it.
"hello pinocchio." you greet him in the same, gentle manner, never once hiding your smile from him. you watch as his lips seemed to quirk upwards just the tiniest bit before making his way toward you.
he remains silent, simply laying down on the couch with you, settling himself on your lap. this sudden action was so...different and unexpected that you weren't sure how to respond or what to do.
your stomach was in knots now, and all you could see was pinocchio's achingly gentle beauty. as his hair was spread out across your lap, you could see his freckles clearly now, the sight of it all being much more captivating than the stars above.
with the puppet seemingly asleep, you took this chance to admire your personal constellation, allowing your fingertips to trace over his smooth skin like you did during your first meeting with him. truly, everything about p drew you into him, and you wanted nothing more than to bask in him, drinking him in as you burned his very visage into your memories.
your touch was gentle, not wishing for him to feel any discomfort or pain.
your touch was reverent, never once taking him for granted as you praised him for his bravery and strength.
as you continued to admire him, you felt a strange trembling in your lips, filling you with a desire to press them against the parted, rosy lips settled below you. you slide your eyes shut and whisper his name before allowing your lips to gently press against pinocchio's.
his reaction was immediate, eyes opening as true blue irises met with your own gaze. with a gasp, you pull away, an apology already set at the tip of your tongue when the puppet stops you.
using his hand, he brushes back your hair while letting out a sigh of your name, kissing you again as he closes his own eyes in response.
with pinocchio kissing you back, you found yourself melting into his arms, clinging to him. the kiss was awkward, with your teeth either bumping into his lips or his nose meeting with yours-
and yet it was still so utterly sweet. as you cling to him, you could have sworn you felt the tiniest bit of warmth exuding from him-
and a gentle flutter within his chest, reminding you of a heartbeat.
when the need for air proved to be too much, you pull away from pinocchio with adoration in your eyes. his expression was gentle and filled with tranquility, closing his eyes before pressing his lips against your forehead.
while being in pinocchio's embrace, you found your anxieties all but melt away, allowing the pinpricks of slumber to mar your consciousness. you end up falling asleep within his arms, unaware of how pinocchio held you and took you to back to bed.
as he held you, he presses his lips against your temple once more, silently vowing to remain forever by your side.
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a.n. - pinocchio is utterly sweet, and with lies of p fully released, i had to write something soft for him. this is unedited so do forgive me for any glaring errors 🥹
all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.
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shuusocks · 9 months
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(NSFW) pov: what they are like in bed part 1.
Content warning: 18+ themes, mentions of explicit sexual activity 🤺
Shu Sakamaki:
Shu might be a lazy boy but don't be deceived by his lack of movement. His sex drive is through the roof most of the time. Shu doesn't really take time to initiate the act of intimacy himself but when you're feeling needy and come to him for some needed relief, he will gather all of his inner strength and will make sure you will be a shaking, crying mess after he’s done with you. In bed, Shu likes to take his time playing with you, teasing you, until you're completely ready for him to take you.
When he's on top of you, Shu doesn’t use any restraints on you, he lets your hands wander freely. He really enjoys the pain when you scratch his back until he bleeds. This little action lets him know how good he makes you feel. Shu really likes it when you get on top of him and do all the work yourself by lifting your hips up and down his shaft. He also loves marking your neck and shoulders with deep purple hickeys. Another thing about Shu, is that he’s not that vocal during intimacy but he is an absolute master at dirty talk. The words that fall out of his lips in between deep raspy groans, can make you see stars instantly.
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Reiji Sakamaki:
Reiji is often really busy all day, rotting away in his lab, doing all sorts of experiments. His mind is too preoccupied with consuming more knowledge, for any kind of inappropriate thoughts to get in. He only snaps out of his trance-like state when you enter his working space and start to be a needy little whore for him. Touching lightly his chest, giving small kisses around his neck, slowly drifting your hand to the belt of his dress pants until he can’t take it anymore.
Reiji mostly likes to do it on the bed. Either in a random room in the mansion or your shared bedroom. He will make sure you feel comfortable and properly pampered and ready for him. He loves holding your hands above your head and leaving love kisses all over your neck, going down to your shoulders and chest. The sight of you hopelessly squirming and whimpering underneath him, makes Reijis mind blank. If he's feeling feisty that day, Reiji won't hesitate to even tie your hands to the bed frame and edge you until you're a pleading sobbing mess, only then he will make you finally come. Reiji, doing intimate moments also loves to call you pet names, e.g. “good girl/boy”, “sweetheart”, “darling”. Also, he will absolutely give you the best aftercare.
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Laito Sakamaki:
Laito is undoubtedly the brother who is willing to take you anytime, anywhere at any chance he gets. This man is horny all the time beyond belief. His mind is always full of sick and twisted images and thoughts of what he would do to you. Turning him on and putting him in the mood is probably the easiest thing ever. It would only take a couple of small kisses on his face, neck or shoulders and Laito is already tearing both of you guys' clothes off. 
Laito loves touching your body while doing it. He will slowly drag his hands up and down your hips, feeling every beautiful curve on your perfect body (every body is perfect ily <3). Laito will tease you, lightly giving you small, butterfly-like kisses, which turn into blue-ish, purple hickeys. At times when you're already both on the edge, Laito will nibble on your skin, sucking your sensitive little buds and messages your thighs. If he's feeling a little bit more playful, Laito will graze his sharp fangs against your delicate skin, drawing just a tiny bit of bright red blood. He also loves it when you praise him for being a good boy, for doing such a good job of making your body feel like it’s in heaven.
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htmljoon · 9 months
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Imagine Miguel has slowly been falling for his personal assistant at work, as much as he’s been trying to ignore those feelings. He plays them off as fondness for a coworker, you had a mentor mentee relationship, of course he’d care for you. But he realizes just how deep his feelings truly are when he’s been at the office all night, not even realizing it had gotten well into the morning of the next day. He’d been so strung out and hyper fixated on the project that was due by the end of week that he’d completely lost track of time. The blank eyes behind his glasses are slowly scanning the documents on his laptop screens, deep blues painting his unusually pale skin just below them, clear evidence of his exhaustion. But his heart stops, and the room feels a little warmer, a little more colorful, when he hears you down the hall. The familiar hissing sound of the espresso machine stirs something in him, but it was white background noise compared to your beautiful voice. You were singing a song like you were up on a stage, full of emotion and enchanting like a siren. “Through drought and famine, natural disasters, my baby has been around for me…” You performed, deft hands working the latte maker like you did every morning for your boss. Soon the mechanic whirring stopped, giving Miguel an even better listen to your captivating music. His heart was pounding between his lungs, all fatigue having been stripped with each passing note. His eyes widened as the click of your heels grew closer, your humming growing louder, and then you startled in the doorway, nearly dropping the latte you made for him every morning. “Shi—“ you caught yourself before the curse word slipped out in front of your boss. You heaved a loud, breathless sigh, gripping your chest and doubling over. “Oh my god, you scared me, Mr. O’Hara! What are you doing here so early, sir?” He prayed you didn’t catch the pink hues dusting his cheeks, or the way he couldn’t take his eyes off of you and you stepped closer. The gentle smile you gave him as you set his morning coffee down on his desk had butterflies blooming in his stomach. All he wanted to do was grab that hand and reel you in so he could crash his lips against yours. “Just… prepping the project that’s due Friday,” he grumbled in a gravely voice, throat dry from lack of use. You sucked your teeth and shook your head. “You’ve been up all night? That won’t do at all. I’ll order breakfast from that place you like down the street. They have breakfast empanadas, right?” But you had already pulled out your phone to search the menu, giving him another glance and smile that has his knees weak before you typed away on your screen and headed back for the door. When he glanced down at his mug, his gaze stuck on the heart you drew next to his name, and his breath hitched in his throat. He could melt in your presence, you burned as brightly as the sun. And there was no denying he was falling in love with you.
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rookthorne · 10 months
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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬
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Shopping in your favourite art store with Bucky brings back the memory of your first encounter, and after so much time has passed, it was with fondness that you looked back on just how starstruck you were in his presence.
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✿ Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✿ 1.9k
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✿ Tooth rotting fluff, Bucky is a flirt ჻჻჻ TROPES: Meet Cute
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✿ I have a thing for meet cutes — sue me.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ✿ Kickstart My Heart by Mötley Crüe
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✿ @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer ჻჻჻ Week 5 - "When I first met you..." — Masterlist
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𝐈𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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The art store you had been visiting for years was the same as ever – warm tones and homey vibes, organised by product and perfectly aesthetically pleasing to wander up and down the aisles. 
It was a wonderland you would ever willingly get lost in. 
A hand suddenly brushed your lower back, and you smiled. “You get all you need, Sunshine, baby?”
“I mean,” you hummed, turning to face Bucky. “I could get a lot more…”
“No,” Bucky deadpanned, face impassive par the raised brow. “You know the rules.”
You pouted at him, pleading silently, but Bucky only rolled his eyes and wandered off to the aisle of sketch pads and books. “You can get one more thing, that’s it,” he called over his shoulder. “No more than that.”
“Yes,” you cheered under your breath, ecstatic with the small win. With renewed excitement, you browsed the aisles of pencils and paints, a simple goal in mind. For a long while now, even before you had met Bucky, you had wanted to draw – capture the wonders in your mind and the beauty of the world around you. 
In fact, it was in this very shop where you met Bucky for the first time. Butterflies filled your stomach at the memory – you had been so shy, so taken aback that he was even talking to you, that you were sure that the shock would be permanently etched onto your expression. 
Birthday present shopping was always tricky – even more so when you were looking for something at the last damn second. The tinkle of the bell alerted your arrival, and you glanced over to see the smiling, friendly face of your friend and shop owner, Wanda. “Hey, you,” she greeted. “Back in again?”
“You know me, Wands,” you replied, shrugging. “I always leave it to the last minute.”
Wanda laughed and nodded before a fond smile made her eyes twinkle in the warm light. “Just let me know if you need help, alright?”
With a wave, you wandered through her shop, one goal in mind: a canvas of the best quality and maybe a few paints – who knew? You could walk out with a lot more; it was entirely dependent on the muse. Painting together with your friend was a tradition that you’d held for years now.
Humming a quiet song, you browsed the aisles for something to catch your eye when you side stepped and hit something solid. “Oh, shit–” You gasped, turning to see it was a person and not a shelf. The man was tall with cropped hair, a denim jacket over his shoulders, and bright blue eyes. “I am so sorry, oh my gosh–”
“You’re fine,” he replied, face blank. He quickly bent to pick up the paper you had knocked from his hands. Before you could offer more apologies, he straightened up and looked at you, gaze soft but considering. “No harm done.”
His stare pinned you in place, and your mouth opened slightly before you could stop it. “O-Okay, yeah,” you stuttered, cursing the overwhelming shyness that engulfed you whole and the damn butterflies that had taken refuge in your stomach. “I’m gonna- Uh, yeah. Bye.”
Before he could reply, you sidestepped him and rushed down the aisle to take refuge in the next one over, where more sketchbooks and pads were neatly lined up in rows on the shelves. Wanda looked up from behind the till with a sly smirk and a raised brow, as though she had heard your exchange with the handsome stranger, and you shot her a look that you hoped she’d take to heart – keep quiet. 
Taking a deep breath, you began to look properly at the options available when you felt a presence next to you. “This one’s the best,” they said, voice perfectly deep and gravelly, and the sound made the cluster of butterflies in your stomach switch into frenzied flight. “You need to make sure the paper has the thickness for your medium, y’know?”
A tattooed hand moved into your field of vision, and you took a second to stare at the intricate designs woven into tanned, rough skin – peeking out from the rings and scarred calluses. Unbidden, your eyes travelled up their arm until you were face to face with the same man as before – the same one you had bumped into. His smile was small, gentle in nature. 
“I love your tattoos,” you blurted, and your eyes widened slightly at the words that fell from your lips. But the man’s laughter was worth it – honeyed and sounding like molten chocolate, exactly like the ones you imagined from your romance books. 
“Thanks, sweetheart, I did ‘em myself,” he replied. His other arm came into view, and you glanced at it to see even more designs – this time, a wolf and some sort of machinery. 
“Wait,” you hesitated, looking into his face. A sudden realisation dawned on you – this was Bucky Barnes, the owner of one of the best tattoo shops in the area, and he was right in front of you. “Oh my god, you’re Bucky Barnes!”
“In the flesh,” Bucky laughed. He was grinning now, his eyes bright with mirth. “What’s a beautiful ray of sunshine doin’ here, huh?”
You laughed nervously, moving your hand to rub at the back of your neck on instinct. “I, um. I came to pick out a present.”
“Oh?” 
“It’s my friend’s birthday, and we paint together sometimes,” you continued. Bucky was still smiling, but his gaze was flicking between your lips and your eyes as you spoke. The butterflies continued to flutter at a frenzied pace, each bouncing off the walls with fevered excitement. You took a subtle deep breath, hoping it would calm the nerves that were beginning to boil over. 
“Sounds like fun, doll,” Bucky said, still with that damned smile on his lips. “I’m in here picking up supplies for the idiots back in the shop.”
You chuckled quietly and turned back to the paper that lined the shelves. Bucky’s hand reached out before you could look closer at the options and grabbed at least several pads, the paper bending slightly in his grip. “I best keep goin’,” Bucky sighed. “I’ll catch you at the till.”
“Okay,” you squeaked. 
Bucky winked and made his way back over to the aisle of pencils, leaving you dumbfounded, standing rooted to the spot in shock. “What the fuck,” you murmured, wringing your hands. “Just… What the fuck.”
With haste, you chose some sketch and canvas pads to share with your friend. Then you wandered over towards the paints – resolutely ignoring the way Wanda’s eyes followed you or how Bucky dawdled in front of the selection of coloured pencils, phone in hand and a startlingly serious glare on his face. 
The sound of your footsteps on the wooden floor drew his attention, and the glare softened only slightly, as he looked over at you. You smiled back at him and then looked at the vast paint selection – deciding to stick with contrasting colours. 
Before long, your arms were overflowing with paints and paper and canvases. “Hey,” you said, coming round the corner of the aisle to see Wanda waiting patiently, that sly smirk still on her lips. “I’m finally done.”
“You should have a rule that you can’t buy the whole damn store, Sunshine,” Bucky piped up from behind you, a low chuckle in his tone. You jumped slightly, turning to look over your shoulder and roll your eyes at him. 
“Oh, shush, Bucky,” Wanda teased, “you leave my girl alone.” Her hands moved to grab a bag, and she began to scan your acquired goods, her eyes glancing up and flicking between the two of you. 
“She’s the one that bumped into me!” Bucky cried, widening his eyes. “Ain’t my fault.”
“And I apologised,” you clipped back. 
“I dunno ‘bout that, doll,” Bucky replied, placing his books and massive array of pencils on the counter. “I would feel better if you let me pay for your supplies. Can’t deprive a ray of sunshine like yourself of that beautiful smile, can I?”
“Oh my god,” you breathed, hiding your face in your hands. 
Wanda chuckled next to you. “You two are so cute–Buck here is only nice around me. He’s a grumpy bastard most of the time. It’s nice to see.”
“Wands,” Bucky groaned, glaring at her. You peeked through your hands to watch the exchange. “Seriously?”
“What? I’m telling the truth,” Wanda said flippantly, continuing to scan your items until she was finished – then she started scanning Bucky’s. You went to open your mouth, but she shot you a look. “I won’t hear a word against it, darling.”
A beat of silence passed as you fidgeted with your hands. You glanced up at Wanda quickly, and she pointedly glanced between you and Bucky as Bucky stared off at something in the distance. 
Fuck it, you thought. “I-I just, I thought you were awesome,” you whispered, looking at Bucky through your lashes. He turned and looked at you, smiling while crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve been a fan for so long, and I just can’t believe you’re here–talking to me.”
“Aw, sweetheart,” Bucky said softly. “It’s good to meet you too, why don’t you come back to the shop with me–you can meet the idiots. My treat.”
“Really?” You rushed, excitement flooding your body at the prospect of meeting the entirety of 107th Ink. “I would love to, oh my god.”
Bucky winked. “Good–I have a feeling they’d love you, Sunshine. I have definitely enjoyed your company.”
“Alright, love birds,” Wanda laughed. “Here you go.”
“We’re friends!” You spluttered, and Bucky roared with laughter, shaking his head as he paid. “Wands–”
“It doesn’t matter, doll,” Bucky cut in, his eyes flashing with something. “Nothin’ wrong with a bit of flirtin’ between friends, is there?”
Ice cold realisation flooded your mind. It wasn’t everyday chatter, you were too damn starstruck by meeting an idol to realise he was openly flirting with you – Bucky Barnes, the stoic and grumpy tattoo legend, flirting with you. 
“No,” you whispered, abashed and overwhelmed. “No, there isn’t.”
Bucky didn’t appear to hear you. “Alright, Wands, see you next time.” The floors creaked under his boots as he turned to walk towards the door, and you followed quickly, waving over your shoulder at a giggling Wanda. “Let’s go meet the idiots,” Bucky remarked, grinning at you while he adjusted the bags in his hands. 
“Okay,” you replied, falling into step next to him on the footpath. “Let’s go.”
A noise from behind you startled you from the memory, and you glanced over your shoulder to see Bucky talking to another customer – expression stoic and blank as he discussed what looked to be the difference between different pencils. It was endearing, so close to how you had met him. 
You observed for a moment longer until Bucky noticed you staring, and he departed the customer’s company to walk over to you. “You alright, baby?”
“Yeah,” you sighed happily, grinning at him. “Just remembering how we met.”
Bucky chuckled. “You were so damn shy–I thought if I flirted with you anymore, you would have keeled over and died on the spot.”
“I probably would have,” you said, shaking your head. “I was so starstruck and nervous to realise it was you flirting until you paid for my things.”
“That’s alright, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured, throwing an arm over your shoulder to direct you to the counter where Wanda awaited, a smug smile on her lips. “You’re mine now. That’s all that matters.”
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⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁
⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁
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myfictionaldreams · 1 year
Text
Day 15: Begging - Bucky
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Kinktober Day 15: Begging - Bucky x f!reader
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, shy!reader, teasing, anxiety, handcuffs, vibrator, masturbation, begging, desperate bucky, creampie, nicknames, no use of y/n
my main masterlist 📚 // kinktober masterlist😈 // AO3 Link 
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You had never felt determination like it, you weren’t just the sweet-looking girl that they all thought you were, you could do this, you could get Bucky to beg.
It all began after speaking with Natasha, the topic of which had your body flushed in embarrassment. The assassin was describing in detail her latest sexual adventure and you were too much of a prude to ever do what you were doing which only in turn caused the Avenger to tease you.
“I knew you would just lie back and take it”.
“I’m dont” you muttered, already feeling defensive.
Natasha leaned forward across the table, looking at you with a keen eye, “Oh yeah? So what..do you like to take control then? In fact let me ask you this, has Bucky ever begged? Ever held him down and taken control?”
Your silence was answer enough for Natasha as she smirked, throwing her hands up in the air, “see I knew it.”
Natasha taunts ran through your thoughts all day causing you to fall back into old habits, biting on your nails and bottom lip, zoning out for who-knows how long in the kitchen whilst trying to wash up that you hadn’t even noticed your boyfriend's return.
One warm and one cold hand circled your waist, the temperature fell through your thin vest as a brief kiss was placed on your cheek. It was instantaneously that all your worries seemed to disappear, becoming lost in idle conversation, having dinner together and his sweet soft touches that distracted you enough to forget.
This was until the two of you were tucked up in bed, his body hovering effortlessly over yours, full lips moving steadily against your own until his tongue slipped between causing you to gasp, wanting, needing more of him.
Then the thoughts returned, here you were, already prepared to lay back and have Bucky ravish you like he did every single day, you wanted to be more, you wanted to show him you could be just as dominant and in control of the situation.
So without another moment to overthink it, your legs wrapped around his slim waist, gripping tightly and with all of the force you could muster, you spun your bodies with surprising ease as Bucky was suddenly on his back with you now hovering above. He clearly hadn’t expected this, that's how you managed to move him onto his back, his face alight with surprise.
Sitting on his stomach you tried to ignore the butterfly sensation in your stomach as his hands wandered up your thighs and before you lost any more of your confidence you moved to interlock your fingers with his, smiling down innocently at him.
“I’m going to make you beg, Mister Barnes”.
Bucky didn’t seem to take on your words, just biting his bottom lip as his eyes danced across your still clothes body, “Oh I'm sure you will, Doll”.
From this reaction, you knew he wasn’t convinced so you huffed and rolled your eyes.
“You’ll see Bucky, I will,” he noticed the uncertain wobble in your voice and only smirked up at you, knowing he always had control over all situations in the bedroom.
Taking a deep breath, you brought your joined hands up the bed, holding them by the bars, looking deep into his stunning blue eyes, “keep them there”. Without waiting for his reaction, you leaned across the bed and pulled out two objects, one of which was a set of handcuffs that you’d stolen from his bag.
Bucky watched with a laid back expression as you handcuffed both of his wrists to the bars on the headboard. “You know I could easily snap out of these right?”
“Please don’t” you responded, already forgetting about the dominant persona you were trying to portray, noting that his eyes had softened.
“I will, seeing as you asked so politely, Doll”.
You bite the inside of your cheek, looking straight ahead at the blank wall trying not to show the embarrassment that hides within, you could do this, make him beg!
Setting your plan into action, you began by reaching for the hem of your shirt and lifting it up and over your head, displaying your now bare chest, seeing the way Bucky’s eyes dropped to your breasts, watching the nipples perk from the cool air.
The next step was the one that had your hands slightly shaking as you shimmied out of your shorts, leaving you bare on his stomach, Bucky's eyes now going frantic with where to look over your body.
Finally, you grasped the other object that had been found on the bedside table, a small bullet vibrator, one that you kept for when Bucky went on missions. Leaning on his hard abs, you kept a close eye on him, beginning by rubbing your bare wet cunt on him, making sure he could feel and see how aroused you were, noting the way his breathing hitched.
Then as you revealed the vibrator, turning it on and laying it against his stomach, his eyes darkened, a small groan leaving both of you as you ground against him and the vibrator, feeling the contrast between his warm, chiselled abs and the cool shiver of the metal.
Your hips move slowly at first, warming yourself up to the sensations, letting your body awaken with each shift of your hips back and forth, not once looking away from Bucky who was already shifting around, hands clenching in the handcuffs.
Bucky didn’t even seem to be blinking as his eyes moved from your pussy, up your body, noticing every breath, shiver and moan you produced, up past your breasts to your face, wishing he could kiss every inch of you before dropping his eyes back to your pussy.
It was an endless cycle, one that only drove you on, moving faster, turning the vibrator up.
“Bucky” you moaned, feeling the cord tighten in your cunt, moving faster, feeling your juices coating his stomach, thighs aching from the movements but not caring you were so close.
“I’m cuming” you rushed out, eyes closing, head tipping back and finally the relief pulsed through you causing you to jolt but ride out the waves.
As you turned off the vibrator and placed it back into the draw, you were about to move your fingers down to tease yourself more when Bucky made a small grunting noise that almost sounded like desperation.
“You ok there mister Barnes?”
He doesn't answer, looking almost like he was losing control as he bared his teeth, contemplating his next words before deflating. “P-please” his voice was hardly even audible.
You paused, blinking down at him, “what?”
“Please” you can’t believe what you were hearing, expecting it to be a few more orgasms and teasing before he even remotely became close to losing control.
“Please what Bucky?” this caused him to growl in frustration.
“Please let me fuck you”. You begin to open your mouth, intending to taunt him more when he interrupts, “I’m not going to ask again.”
“Ok”.
Bucky was snapping out of his handcuffs before you could even blink, finding yourself flat on your back once more. “I want to taste you so fucking bad right now,” he swipes a finger across his wet abdomen, moaning as he sucked it dry, tasting your arousal. “It’s going to have to wait I need to fuck you so bad right”.
He rushes to undo his jeans which were the only article of clothing left on his body. You couldn’t help but giggle at his rush, having never seen his fingers not look steady before, can’t quite believe the mess you’d turned him into.
Your laughter was cut off as he finally freed his cock, not even bothering to take off his jeans fully before lifting your legs up and over his shoulders, exposing your cunt further to him. Bucky swiped his cock up and down your folds for only a moment, coating his cock in your moistness before pushing into your eagerly awaiting hole.
You both moaned loudly, Bucky almost sighing in relief as he bottomed out, holding your thighs tightly as he only gave a second to adjust before fucking you hard.
Every thrust was powerful and deep, stroking against all the perfectly sensitive spots within, his hips slapping against your own, the bed shaking with his efforts as you gripped tightly to the pillow beneath your head, screaming out his name repeatedly.
It felt so good to have him acting so frantically, chasing that high he desperately needed but also bringing you closer and closer to your own orgasm, needing to hear you and feel you reach your peak and you knew it would be soon.
“Fuck I can feel your tight cunt clenching around me, Doll, cum for me” you reached forward, gripping his hands that still tightly held onto your legs keeping them in position, toes curling as the intense orgasm rippled through you.
It didn’t take long for Bucky to join you, his body shaking as he groaned deeply, his cum filling you up and then he all but collapsed next to you on the bed, hand resting on your stomach.  Your own hand raised to caress his cheekbone, smiling like an idiot at him as he mumbled, “you can make me beg any day Doll”.
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shieldofiron · 6 days
Text
Pretty Boy Live in Santa Fe, 1977
Part 1/3 Also on Ao3 here
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For @harringrove-relay-race. Very happy with how part 1 turned out, and there will be more to come. Thanks to @foxxtastic for the intro and next up will be something stunning from our fearless Relay Race leader @half-oz-eddie
Rated M / 5k words / Part 1/3
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Part 1: Into Hades
Rolling Stone Magazine - May 2002
Billy Hargrove arrived after I did, in his lovingly maintained blue Camaro, the subject of his song, “Lady Blue.” “Lady Blue” was recently named #93 on Rolling Stone’s Top Love Songs of the Century.
“I wrote, ‘She’s the wind in my hair, the rumble in my soul.’ I thought it was so obvious,” He laughed, his blue eyes still boyish. “My niece made it her wedding song, I said ‘Really? It’s about a fuckin’ car!’”
He showed me several pictures of his niece, the supermodel Tyler Sinclair. It seems good looks run in the family. He suggested the diner and he ordered waffles, winking when I mentioned that we’ll be here a long time.
The decades have been kind to him, maybe a few more lines. It’s not hard to imagine him stepping right back onto the stage, as if no time has passed at all.
“A little extra glitter on the eyes,” He said with a smile, “to hide my crows feet. That’s all I need.”
I ask what he’s going to wear to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame ceremony for Kaleidoscope's induction and his smile dims only for a moment.
“I think I should pull out some old costumes. You know, the butterfly still fits.”
He was referring, of course, to the sheer butterfly cape costume that nearly had him thrown off the stage in Houston Texas in December 1976. He caved to putting on a pair of silvery shorts rather than the nude underwear it was designed with. He later wore it with the nude underwear on the inside cover of Kaleidoscope, the album that will be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in just a few short weeks. Kaleidoscope was his last album with the iconic Glam Rock band Pretty Boy, which famously broke up at the height of their career while touring for the album, onstage.
It’s not often that a band is inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and there’s a question if all of them will even show up.
“I’ll be there,” Hargrove said, fiddling with the silver band on his middle finger. “I have no problem with seeing him.”
The him is, of course, the lead guitarist and other lead singer of Pretty Boy, Steve Harrington.
Steve Harrington invites me to his oceanfront house in Malibu later that afternoon.
“I haven’t decided if I’m going to go,” He said thoughtfully, his brown eyes darting around the room.
When I mention that Billy is going to go, he seems surprised.
“He didn’t say he was going to punch me, did he?” Harrington smiled, but it doesn’t seem like much of a joke.
For one of the most famous rock stars of the 70s, Harrington is shockingly low key. He wears a t-shirt and slouchy linen pants, and he jokes that he ought to have shaved when I take out my camera. The house is stunning but empty, with miles of blank white walls and overstuffed white furniture.
“I’m looking for a little peace,” He shrugs, “I used to have all these pictures up, all this furniture… It was too much.”
It was hard not to see him as an artist without a muse. He drifted listlessly, picking things up and putting them down as we talked. So it was a surprise to me to hear that he’s been recording.
“I may never release it but… Yeah,” He laughed, “Music. After all this time. Bet you didn’t know.”
He picks up a rare photo from the piano. It’s from the early days of Pretty Boy, before Billy Hargrove. Harrington has his arm around his bandmate, Eddie Munson. Their drummer Chrissy Cunningham is balanced precariously across their shoulders, laughing and cringing at the same time. Bassist Robin Buckley smirks from the corner of the frame, messy bangs in her eyes.
“Who knew, right?” He asked no one, shaking the frame a little.
There are no pictures of Billy Hargrove.
“That’s a… a long story,” He said, when I asked.
But I have time. I tell him Rolling Stone will pay for it. At least that makes him laugh.
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It was just by chance that Pretty Boy’s last concert was filmed.
“We were meant to just film in Vegas,” The director, Argyle Molina-Zapata, sat down with me after a private screening of Pretty Boy Live in Santa Fe, 1977, “But there was a freak rainstorm, and I couldn’t get my camera’s out of the back. The crowd was digging it, refused to leave. I remember when Billy hit the high note for ‘Mother Make Me,’ there was this lightning crack… brilliant.”
Molina-Zapata shook his head, “But the footage, what I got of it, was awful. Awful! So I begged Murray to let me come with them to Santa Fe.”
Murray was Murray Bauman, famed tour manager, who handled the Boys, later Pretty Boy from their first album Starfire, all the way to Kaleidoscope.
“And I was lucky,” Argyle nodded, “They had that extra tour bus.”
The tour busses are featured in the first few minutes of the film. They roll around the corner, one reading Billy Blue (Billy’s original stage name was  Billy Blue before he dropped the Blue), and the other, Steve’s Six (Named after Steve’s best friends from his hometown.)
“They were nightmares,” Murray Bauman’s voice crackled over the phone, “Nightmares on tour. Separate buses. Separate hotels. Fuck me, I swear to god at one point they wanted separate stages. And the label caved on almost all of it. Fucking nightmare.”
It’s almost impossible to imagine it when you see them on stage together. There’s something electric that passed between Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington, something that drove crowds wild. They gravitate towards each other on the stage, orbiting like planets until they can share the same mic. They can’t seem to stay apart.
It’s hard to see exactly what happened that night.
“I’ve watched it a million times,” Argyle laughed, “But the only two people who can really say what happened are Billy and Steve.”
What you can see is this: Steve tearing into “Pride & Prejudice”, the lead off Kaleidoscope and the last song of the night.
Billy was trembling, visibly shaking as he sang and Steve harmonized along.
What can I say, if you ask me to walk away?
Baby, there’s no words for you.
Baby. I don’t know what to do.
Billy danced closer, joining Steve, his handheld mic loose at his side.
Can you ever put away your pride?
Is it worth it to not have me at your side?
I guess it must be, because I’m yours,
Regretfully,
Baby.
Billy leans in, sharing Steve’s mic for the bridge.
Is it really a mystery?
What I mean to you, and you mean to me?
Is it really, baby?
Billy shook his head, curls bouncing. He looked into Steve's eyes. He smiled. Steve looks at Billy, and Billy looks at him. It almost looks like Billy mouths something, but bootleg footage also has appeared where it looks like Billy just nodded. Steve goes a little shell shocked, hand freezing on his guitar, falling out of sync.
And then Steve turned away and left the stage, handing his guitar to a stagehand. Billy turned to the crowd, his expression strangely triumphant. He was always magnetic on stage, but this moment transcends that. It somehow feels like he’s getting everything he wants.
So I guess I’m losing you,
You promised me you would and it’s true.
Baby, there’s no words for you.
Baby. I don’t know what to do.
Steve Harrington hasn’t performed in public since 1977.
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“None of us knew what was going to happen that night,” Chrissy Cunningham curled up next to her husband, Eddie Munson, on the large white couch of their Seattle home.
They’re a handsome couple still, draped in rock and roll finery. He toyed with the edge of her scarf, and she curled his long hair around her long fingers.
“We had some of our own shit going on at the time so…” Munson shrugged, “Maybe we were distracted.”
Their living room was crowded and verdant, every spare flat surface covered in plants. Their partner, former record executive Jason Carver, puttered in the kitchen in an apron that read Plant Papa.
“Yeah,” Chrissy smiled, “We had some stuff going on at the same time. But still… It seemed like they were getting better. Didn’t it seem like they were getting better?”
Munson shrugged, “The thing about Billy and Steve… they were soulmates. You don’t write music like that and not… it was like they had a second language, just for them. They were soulmates, I really believe that. Everything they did, everything that happened… they could only hurt each other that badly if… yeah.”
When I ask what they did to each other, Eddie and Chrissy just scooted closer together, like teenagers in a slasher, hiding from the killer. She laid a hand over his leg, her two stone diamond ring catching the sunlight.
“Steve never wanted Billy to be in the band,” Eddie shook his head, “but Jim had a soft spot for Billy. And Steve had… I mean Jim was…”
“Jim was like a father. To all of us.” Chrissy’s knee jiggled.
“We were this little tiny band from Nowhere, Indiana,” Eddie nodded, “And Jim believed in us.”
“I was just a junior exec at the time. I was put on the Kaleidoscope tour in case of catastrophic failure, which by the way it was,” Jason Carver is making risotto while we speak, the steam curling the lock of hair that falls over his face. “But it wasn’t my fault although I was high as hell on coke half the time. I guess I deserved to get fired. But Jim was the real deal. Gold records out the ass, best wife in the world, and his daughter, I mean… she was something else.”
They’re referring, of course, to Jim Hopper, producer on Kaleidoscope as well as Billy Blue and The Boys’ records, and the father of pop superstar Eleven aka Jane Hopper.
“Jim was…” Steve Harrington’s eyes always got a little misty talking about Jim, staring out over the ocean. “Yeah, I guess he was a little like my dad. My own parents were always gone. Which is like… I grew up so privileged so like I’m not saying… I just mean I grew up mostly by myself. And we were just so lucky he even agreed to listen to us when we got to LA.”
“I remember that night,” Joyce Hopper’s voice was raspy, cigarette-y in the way only old movie stars are. She’s a gorgeous woman in jeans and a gardening hat, speaking to me while she tends to her garden at her home in Castellammare. “He came home and said, ‘I have the next ones, the next big ones. Fuck, Joyce, they’re brilliant. Unpolished, but brilliant.’”
When I ask about when Jim discovered Billy Hargrove she just laughed.
“If Steve and the rest of The Boys were unpolished, Billy Hargrove was a fucking ten carat diamond,” She said. “But Steve’s band was Jim’s, and he could polish them up how he wanted. And then when he thought they were just right for it… he set the diamond.”
Jim Hopper was a big man, larger than life both in appearance and in personality. His fingerprints are all over some of the best hits of the decade.
Watching him on old interviews, there’s an immediacy to his presence that leaps off the screen.
“My daughter is the one who really found him. She snuck out with her sister and wandered God knows where. And she just… found him. Called me the next morning, saying ‘Dad, you have to hear this guy.’ He was playing in this… terrible club,” Jim said, tapping his cigar on the table of Merv Griffin’s set. “Absolute shithole, pardon my french. And he’s got a great voice, you’ve heard his voice, right?”
“I have,” Merv said.
“I had to get him out of there. He was a star.”
Billy Hargrove was a teenage runaway from San Diego when he came to LA in 1971.
“I had a girl’s backpack from my stepsister, eight dollars, and an extra pair of underwear. By the end of the next week? I had two more dollars,” Billy laughed. “But I got lucky. I met Heather.”
Heather Holloway was a showgirl at Wildwoods, a nightly revue. She found Billy at the backdoor, and took him to her apartment.
“She saved me,” He frowned. “Whenever I needed her most.”
Heather Holloway, Billy Hargrove’s first and only wife, died in 1979. 
“I got a job singing at Sugar, this great gay club downtown. It was in the late afternoons, so I had a crowd of about… two. But those two brought two more,” Billy smiled, “Heather would talk me up to all the promoters. He’s a singer, he’s great, you’ll love him, he’s so cute.”
“He was an instant hit,” Sugar’s manager, Bob Newby, tells me by phone as well. “I did have to keep a couple of creeps off him, when he just started he was only nineteen. But even if you closed your eyes… he was a hit.”
“Guys used to think that because I was a part of the entertainment, I was fair game. And let me tell you, the novelty of that wears off mighty quick,” Billy shakes his head.
He shares a diary entry from his late wife of a night in April 1972. He came to her home with blood all over his face.
“Some guy thought because I was a fag…” Billy’s mouth twisted, but he went on, cradling the little marble notebook in his hand. “He could do whatever he wanted to me. When I fought back… he cracked a bottle over my head.”
He’s not just a piece of meat. He’s a person. I don’t understand these people. I just don’t understand, Heather Holloway wrote. I cleaned him up and he’s sleeping now.
The next diary entry is from a day later. April 12. Billy and I drove to Vegas and got married. When we spoke in the morning he said he was afraid for me too, even though I’m careful with the girls. He’s afraid of the cops trying to bust up the Wildwoods and picking me up. At least this way, he says. He and I can come home to each other. Look out for each other. Always. The groom wore band aids and his great velvet pants. The bride wore lavender. It was perfect.
“And lucky too. Because within a month… I met Jim,” Billy smiled. “And my whole life changed.”
Upside Down Records signed Billy Blue, unagented, in1972 and he spent the next year working on his debut album with Jim Hopper.
“I didn’t even realize, when it happened,” Billy shook his head. “A couple of girls came by after a show, wanting to talk to me, wanting to meet me. That wasn’t that unusual. But they were young, far too young to get into the club. And the little one, she was asking all these weird questions. Did I have an agent? Did I know if I had enough songs for an album? Weird fuckin’ questions. And then she said I have to meet someone. To be honest, I thought she was coked out of her mind when she said, ‘You have to meet my dad.’”
“I was not,” Eleven promised me, “coked out of my mind. But that’s just Billy.”
Eleven aka Jane Hopper, meets me backstage at one of her shows. She’s dressed in slouchy leather pants, to match her sister and drummer Kali Hopper.
“I knew he was something special. My dad was always talking about the IT factor. That thing that made a person something special. But I didn’t get it until I saw Billy Blue singing on that tiny stage,” She smiled. “He didn’t just have the IT factor. He was IT.”
It’s odd then, that Billy Blue’s first album had a surprisingly tepid response. His first single, in 1973, “Let Alone,” came in at only 26th for the month of April on the pop charts.
“People liked it,” Billy shrugs, “But I don’t think they knew what to do with it. You have my songs, these like… little pop love songs and ballads. I wasn’t that strong of a writer at the time. It was like half my songs, half covers. And so they’d book me, expecting fucking… Peter Frampton. And here comes this big queer with glitter on his nipples.”
But the lyrics of “Let Alone” would hint at his later songs, a hallmark simplicity that shone off his raw voice and poetry that hinted at a troubled past.
And if you were meant to care for me
You would, and that’s how it has to be
You said I couldn’t go on without you
Ha, look at me, looking brand new
At the same time, The Boys’ song “Paper Girl,” penned by Harrington, was number one.
She’s my paper girl
She’s my paper girl
Wakes me up every morning, right on time
She got me smiling, got my head in a whirl
Picture perfect, paper girl
“Billy didn’t have much commercial appeal. Sex appeal, yes,” Jason laughed, toying with Chrissy’s hair. “But for sales? That’s where The Boys came in.”
“I hated that name,” Eddie said, “To start with we were half girls.”
The Boys had already had a somewhat successful tour under their belt by the time Jim suggested a collaboration with Billy Hargrove.
“It was a nice, short tour,” Steve Harrington glances away when I ask about the first tour.
“It was a nightmare. Balls to the wall nightmare,” Robin Buckley’s voice is a warm crackle over the phone. “Steve went on like thirty overlapping benders at once.”
Her partner, soap actress Vickie Carmichael cackles behind her, at their home in Salt Lake City.
“The thing about Steve is… well… he’s never found a good way of coping with himself,” Robin huffs. “Music was about as close as he ever got. But in those early days, he just kept looking for more and more.”
“You don’t think it was about-” Vickie asked, just barely into the phone.
“No.”
“It was about Nancy,” Eddie said confidently when I mentioned their first tour. “Nancy, Nancy, Nancy.”
The Boys got their start in the late sixties, beginning with Eddie and Steve. Eddie gave Steve guitar lessons, which turned into some talent show performances. They used to practice at Eddie’s Uncle’s trailer.
“That’s where we got the name,” Eddie nodded, “My uncle used to just call us that, and it stuck.”
“I don’t even remember,” Chrissy said.
“That’s not how we got the name,” Steve shook his head, when I mention Eddie. “It was our first gig, after we got Chrissy and Robin. Robin put it down after the headliner kept asking when ‘you boys’ would go on, and kept addressing it to Chrissy’s chest. She blew him out of the fucking water.”
Nancy Wheeler was there that night, writing about local bands for a tiny column in the school paper.
“She was beautiful. Smart. So smart. Could hear her talk forever,” Steve said, eyes falling.
Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler were married in 1972 after they graduated high school.
“Steve made his own choices,” Chrissy shook her head.
That summer, the Boys plus one drove to LA and Nancy Wheeler took a job at Women’s Day Magazine and later, Rolling Stone. Steve Harrington and The Boys got a “steady gig” at La Bonita Rosa on the strip, playing for drunks every night from seven to eight.
“I really liked playing at La Bonita,” Steve said. “The audience, right there. You could smell the sweat. You could see on their faces if you were bombing. And we used to bomb. A lot. But it was a great place to try things. Experiment. We played there for about a year but… it felt too short.”
Within the year they had met Jim Hopper, who got them into the recording studio and sold their demo nearly on the spot to Upside Down Records.
“They had a great sound. They had got this way of playing. Smooth like a polished stone. Everything sounds good sitting in a frame like that,” Jim said in an interview with Rolling Stone in 1981. “Their songs were… catchy, but basic. But they had the sound.”
Upside Down records set the Boys on a US tour after “Paper Girl,” and “Joy to Love You,” both charted.
“It was like… overnight. One day we’re in a studio, messing around. Kid stuff. I was nineteen,” Steve Harrington shookhis head. “But…”
“That tour,” Chrissy trails off, playing with her ring again.
“I…” Steve Harrington scratched his nose. “I was losing it. Majorly losing it. It felt like we had just moved to LA and we were already neck deep. I mean, I had a number one fucking song. And for some reason I got it in my head to call my mom. She told the maid she wasn’t home. And I could hear her over the phone. My mom. So yeah. I lost it. Lost about half my damn mind on that tour. And people will say it was because of Nancy, because we got married just out of high school, and she wasn’t supportive… but that wasn’t true. Nancy saved me.”
“Nancy never wanted him to be in the band. But… she also didn’t seem to care that much either,” Eddie shook his head, “It’s… complicated. Love is supposed to be. Simple. Like the chords of a song. 1-3-5.”
Jason Carver rolled his eyes at that, “Then what are we?”
Eddie grinned, “We’re a band.”
Nancy Wheeler met me on a Thursday in New York City, slim sunglasses dominating her small porcelain face. We get lunch at her favorite deli shop, and she perches at the counter, loafers dangling. She’s an editor at The New Yorker now, but she still has a soft spot for rock and roll, as evidenced by the Grateful Dead t-shirt under her blazer.
“That tour. I didn’t even know anything was wrong. He just came home with a funny look on his face, saying, ‘We’re headlining.’ So I said, ‘That’s great, Steve.’ He just kept… saying it. It was starting to piss me off, if I’m being honest,” She shook her head. “I should have known something was wrong.”
“I wish she had stopped me. But how could you know right? Hindsight is always 2020,” Steve Harrington said. “I mean, she was my wife. How could she not want me home? But that’s just… sorry. That’s not fair to put on her. I chose to go.”
“I flew out to meet them when they were in Indianapolis, visited my family, and I came a day early to see him,” She smiled warmly, and then it fell. “He was… Well, first, Eddie Munson tried to intercept me at the hotel, so I wouldn’t see him. I told him, ‘I’m here to see my fucking husband.’”
Steve Harrington didn’t add any more details about the tour, just shrugged when I asked.
“He was coked up like you wouldn’t believe,” Robin scoffed. “She walked in on him with two girls and coke all over his… well.”
“I just asked him. Do you want to come home? Do you want to get help? Or not?” She purses her lips. “And so he came home and we found a rehab place near Hawkins.”
“The tour kind of… fell apart. Obviously. We had lost our lead singer and guitarist to fucking… Hawkins, Indiana,” 
Everything stopped for the Boys. Upside Down offered to let them out of their two album contract, but Steve couldn’t afford to pay it down.
“Rehab,” He shrugged. “Is expensive.”
Right as it seemed that everything would be over for the Boys, things were looking up for Billy Blue.
“Jim was always saying, ‘the record is selling alright, the songs are getting there but he needs a… push,’” Joyce said. “‘He’s so close. So close. He’s a star.’”
“He always believed in me,” Billy smiled, toying with his ring again. “Always. Even when I threw a jug of milk at his head.”
Joyce laughed when I asked about that moment, “He came home saying, ‘He milked me, Joyce. But he’ll fix the song tonight.’”
“And I did,” Billy said. “And the album was going alright. I did a little tour, socal and the southwest. And then one night, Jim brings me this song. He said, ‘I want you to tell me what’s missing from this.’”
The song was, of course, the Boys’ biggest hit, “Hades.” Steve Harrington’s first version was called, “To Orpheus” and the chorus goes:
Don’t turn back don’t look behind you baby
I’m close, I’m right behind
The future's so bright, and I want you to take me
Wanna be holding your hand when I make it across the line.
“It was fine, but just kind of… nothing. It was supposed to be about Eurydice, but it was so… nothing. She just loved Orpheus and that was it. There were no insides to her. She was going to follow him to her doom,” Billy shook his head. “That’s not right.”
This was not the version that made it to the recording booth, of course. The Boys’ single, “Hades featuring Billy Blue,” came out in 1975. The actual chorus goes: 
Turn back on me and I won’t forgive you baby
Don’t want you to see me like this
Up ahead is bright, and I want you to take me
If you’re strong enough to cross that finish line
“‘Hades,’ was a real step forward for the Boys. Gone were the teenybopper tunes,” Steve Harrington’s biographer and personal friend Dustin Henderson wrote in his book The Pretty Boy. “Their first album got the kids dancing. But the second proved that they actually had something to say.”
“Still hate it,” Steve Harrington said. “I wrote that song in rehab. It was deeply, deeply personal to me.”
“He came out, all ready. He wanted to start recording right away,” Robin sighed. “Like I mean the next day. All these songs, just pouring out of him. But the label had lost faith in us. And they certainly weren’t going to let us start recording with a guy who had only just earned his thirty day sober chip.”
“The song wasn’t ready,” Billy shook his head. “But I guess he was. Jim said he needed this. So Jim asked if I would come and like… pitch some stuff as a personal favor. Songwriting credit, that’s all it was supposed to be. Get the songs moving, get them going.”
Steve Harrington takes a long time to continue speaking about it. 
“I felt it, writing for that album. I felt proud of those songs. They didn’t belong to anyone else but me,” He toyed with some piano keys while we talked, and then finally sat down and began to play something tuneless and half formed.
“That album was all about Nancy,” Chrissy said. “I mean. I know it. You know it. Nancy knew it. And she kind of hated it. But-”
“You can’t leave your husband right as he gets out of rehab,” Nancy said to me, toying with her wedding ring. “When he writes all these songs about how you’re the only thing… Steve was always like that. Heart wide open. That’s why when he met Billy. I almost thought… it would all be okay. That sounds fucked up but. I thought they could save each other. That the music could save him.”
“It was just a songwriting credit,” Billy raised his hands. “Jim swore up and down. I was just gonna come in there and sit down with this guy Steve. But when I walk into the studio, there’s two mics set up.”
“I was the Boys’ only singer,” Steve Harrington shook his head. “And to be absolutely honest, I was kind of a jackass about it. So to have some guy come in and say he’s gonna sing me my song… well…”
“Steve was the only one who would ever argue with Jim, And he let him have it that day,” Eddie laughed. “He called him the most low down, dirty, rat bitten bastard in California, and that he would die rather than give up his band to someone else.”
“I did not want his band. I did not know his band. And I did not care. And his song sucked. And I told him so. And then I sang it. Better.” Billy smiled.
“Billy was…” Chrissy shook her head. “Incredible.”
I ask Steve what Billy was like that first day in the studio.
“He was,” Something passed over his face. “Alright. He has a great voice, alright.”
“I was good. Better. Best.” Billy smiled.
“But he didn’t understand the song. He wanted Eurydice to… doubt. To think she wasn’t going to get out,” Steve slammed his hands on the keys. “It’s been… almost twenty years. I still don’t understand it.”
I asked why he let Billy stay. But Steve doesn’t have an answer.
“They were like oil and water, right away,” Chrissy said.
“Yeah, but oil on the water can catch fire,” Eddie shrugged.
“Jim asked me to stay,” Billy looked away from me, down at his waffles. “It was a favor to the label.”
“If Billy said louder, Steve said mute,” Robin snickered. “It was kind of great, actually. Finally someone called King Steve on his shit. One day I came in and they were arguing over how close the microphone should be to your throat. Almost got in a physical fight over a fucking microphone. I mean, I love Steve. But he always thinks he’s like… the babysitter. It’s his job to do everything for everybody.”
“Like who was this guy? Really? He came into my studio with no shirt on, most of the time still half smashed from the night before, and he thinks he can make all these changes. But Jim keeps telling me it’s just business, the label thinks it’s good business.” Steve frowned, and then smiled, and then frowned again.
“Yeah, I never wore shirts back then. Or underwear,” Billy said with a grin. “I was a rockstar!”
“Steve fought for every song on that album,” Nancy Wheeler patted her lips primly with a napkin. “He only lost on one.”
“Billy Hargove has songwriting credit and lead vocals on “Hades.” Dustin Henderson wrote.
“Billy was all over that album. He’d make some minor suggestion, maybe this chord instead of that, this word is better. And Steve would flip out, yell at him, yell at Jim, threaten to storm out… and then two days later quietly tell me to change the chord, he’d start singing the new words. Billy was there with us about every single day,” Eddie said.
“Of course, it was our biggest hit,” Chrissy laughed. “Everything but that song, Steve did what he wanted. Oh we had Billy in the studio, making suggestions. But Steve did what he wanted except for ‘Hades.’ Jim said that song is the album, and he wouldn’t cut it.”
“Jim was always right,” Steve closed the piano. “The bastard.”
Hades exploded onto the radio in late 1975. They didn’t have the same distribution as their first record, but the Boys had another hit.
“Billy had this way of singing it. Still does. He broke four mics when we recorded it. Singing so loud I had to keep an eye on the cymbals to stop them from shaking. You can feel him, right in your chest.” Chrissy giggled. “Like he was trying to wake all the dead from Hades. If anyone could, he could.”
“It’s a really, really great song,” Robin said.
This song belongs to Billy Blue, Rolling Stone wrote in 1976. The only question now is, what will The Boys do next?
“I remember that article. Fucking… Harrington said that he basically wrote the whole song. But he said, ‘the label thought bringing Billy in was a good idea,’” Billy gets tense for the first time. “I’m not saying I was like… I just mean. It would have been nice. To treat me like an equal. I’m more than just a singer. I’m not just… a piece of meat.”
“Billy was really pissed about that article. I remember, the day after the article came out, we were getting breakfast at this tiny place off La Cienega. Steve had this car back then, a big maroon BMW, and Eddie had got him a vanity plate when he bought it. Stupid thing it said, ‘BIGBOY.’ Anyway, We’re having breakfast, and we hear this screech outside, like an accident,” Robin Buckley gets uncharacteristically quiet as she goes on through this story. “Billy’s car is parked halfway out of the parking lot, and he comes in like a bull in a charge. Billy… he wasn’t some wimpy guy. He was small, but he was strong as hell… He came right over and grabbed Steve by his collar and lifted him right off the counter. And he said, I’ll never forget it because Steve used to recite it from memory, yell it at me, ‘Tell me I’m not dreaming. Is that Steve fucking Harrington? The lead singer of the Boys. Hey man, I love your song ‘Hades.’ How’d you get your voice to sound halfway decent for once?’”
“I don’t remember that,” Steve Harrington said flatly when I asked.
“And Steve used to be a fucking dick in high school. So he starts getting real bitchy, shoving Billy off him, asking what his problem is, why he’s such a dick all the fucking time, when it’s not even his band. And Billy said something like, ‘No one wants your shit band. Not with you in it,’” Robin paused for a moment. “And they just. Stare at each other. Like… daring each other to do something.”
Billy just shrugs when I ask, “I was pissed. I gave this guy a number one hit, and he still wanted to treat me like some… airhead singer the label brought in as a stunt. I’m not just a singer. I’m not a piece of meat. I’m a person.”
When I ask Steve about that day he’s pretty quiet, deflated at his piano. He only wants to talk about the song. The music. Can’t seem to talk about Billy any other way.
“He sang it like he not only knows Orpheus can’t save him, but that he won’t. It was supposed to be hopeful. A happy ending.” Steve said.
“So you still hate the song?” I asked.
“No, I don’t. It’s brilliant. And that’s the whole problem.”
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To be continued...
Next up is Half-Oz-Eddie's piece at 7:00 pm. GET HYPE!
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jinxs-gf · 13 days
Text
beauty is in the eye of the beholder
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pairings: jinx x reader
summary: You’re an artist, giddy at the thought of creating a portrait of Jinx, your lover. Except she can’t understand why you’d want a portrait of her.
content, warnings: jinx has cute aggression & insecurities, fluff! reader calls jinx ‘angel’ and jinx calls r her toots, too much description and it’s all barely edited D: pretty cringe but it’s okay
w.c. 2.2k
a.n. based off this request <3 again tysm anon ILY :)
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You walk into the little corner of Jinx's room (the abandoned, giant space full of nothingness—that goes down...who knows how far) exclusively reserved for you. There's easels with and without canvases. Some covered in abandoned art, some finished, and some blank. The corner screamed you all over it. Especially the mess of unnecessary amounts of paint brushes, buckets, pencils, tore up paper...
Paint splotches and spills were scattered across your little desk and the floor (the work of you and Jinx).
There's particular squabbles of paint that you don’t mind. A happy face with a squiggly smile that's been there long enough to start chipping away. An uneven mess of hearts scattered in attempt to make the perfect one. Big words that read "I love you" in blue and smaller words next to it, "jinx waz here" in pink. The newest stain is on one of the many cans of your desk, a mark of her kiss. She'd quite literally painted her lips with bright purple and kissed the can, insisting it was there so her toots would never miss her.
Even though there's no time to miss her. Even though she resorts to bringing her work over to your tiny desk instead of keeping it to her very spacious one. You don't mind, the closer to your girlfriend the better. You pretend to be bothered though, only so she'd persist and annoy and squish into your space further.
You tie the apron, generously gifted by Silco, around yourself, excited to (hopefully) start a new, special project. It was gifted reluctantly of course. He tried to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal, but it was a very big deal. The eye of Zaun gift giving? Unheard of. You must be special. And you were, according to your blue haired menace that reminded you everyday. The very menace you affectionately named Angel.
"Toots!"
Jinx's gloved hands wrap around your body and suddenly, your back is crunched to her front. Her hands squeeze your tummy while nuzzling her face into you. Clearly she had missed you...for the whole minute you were separated.
It's like she can tell you were thinking it, "What? You didn't miss me while you were gone? You don't seem so excited I'm here." She's teasing like she always does. The edge and rasp in her voice so close to your neck doing wonders to the butterflies in your stomach.
But of course Jinx missed you. Could you really blame her? She hates every second you're apart, and she loves that you do too. So she's open about it, maybe more dramatic and a bit of a show off, but only to make you laugh and see you turn bashful. She loves getting you shy with her affections and teasing, unable to fathom the way you're wrapped around her finger the way she's wrapped around yours.
Your hands delicately grab her small, rough ones, turning yourself around to face her. "Don't even start with me, I'll tickle you to death if you keep up the accusations."
"Is that supposed the be a threat?" And oh, the pout is more real than sarcastic than she wants it to be. Like she genuinely doesn't like the idea of being threatened...by tickles (you know the idea is scary to Jinx, it's the truest form of torture she said once).
"Kind of." Your hands swing in the gap between the two of you. "Hey I actually had an idea. Care to hear?" It's something you've been wanting to do for a while now, giddy at the thought of it. Yet suddenly you find yourself a bit reluctant, still undoubtedly shy around your lover. You hope she'll say yes and that her teasing from this won't be too harsh.
"Hit me with it!"
"Will you let me draw you? Like a full portrait? I promise I'll do you justice!"
Jinx is sorry for it, but she stopped listening immediately, too enraptured by your connected hands, heart beating a little faster at the contact. You'll never know the effect you have on her (or so she thinks), she refuses to get teased even though she loves to tease you. She adores how flustered you get. Teasing is her love language, Jinx's way of showing her love for her toots. And when you decide it's unbearable enough, you'll shut her up with a kiss. Jinx will drag it out and annoy you for that reason alone. She counts on a messy kiss every time.
Unknowing of what to do with the sudden adoration creeping up on her, she pinches your hands hard.
Unfazed, you call her "Angel?"
"Hm?" She looks up and at you with so much affection. So much it stops you for a moment. Your giddiness to do this increases tenfold, her expression killing you in the best way possible. You can be extremely honest about this to soften her up, make her want to say yes.
"I'd like to draw you. Like really, really badly. I have for the longest time. You're just...stupidly pretty and it makes me feel so stupid and I want to scribble your face all over my canvases all the time. So...can I? You'll have to sit for me as reference." You say it as if you don’t have every bit of her memorized, which you completely do.
And for whatever reason, your menace (angel) is stunned. You notice it’s a bad kind of stunned, you realize quickly.
“…Me?”
“Yes?”
“But why?” Jinx asks quiet and unsure of herself. Her eyes look everywhere but you, she tries pulling back but you squeeze her hands. There’s a hint of anxiety around her, something she hasn’t experienced since she met you.
The mood switch and uncharacteristic behavior causes worry to stir in your chest. “Uhh, why wouldn’t I? You’re my girlfriend, you’re the prettiest girl in the Undercity and in Piltover! Trust me, none of those snotty ladies are as pretty-”
“You haven’t even been to Piltover.”
“I don’t need to go over there to know they don’t compare to you.”
She heaves a big sigh, your worry growing.
“I just- I'm not pretty or beautiful or any of the things you say I am. You call me angel when I'm far from that! You love art, it’s your thing, toots. Your passion and escape. How can you let someone like me ruin something you love so much? I don’t want to…I don’t know.”
When you don’t answer, she continues.
“I’m not worthy of so much time being spent on something so precious you know?” She says it like she hopes you’ll agree. You won’t.
“Angel,” you let go of her hands to cup her face, needing her to hear you. “Of course you’re worth spending time on. I love you. Do I not say it enough? I know I can be-”
“No, you say it lots and lots!”
“I’ll say it more. I need to make sure you believe it. And guess what? I meant what I said Angel. You’re the prettiest girl. The prettiest to exist. And you’re mine, do you know how lucky I am? You clearly don’t understand how much I feel for you. You’re worth every second I’m gonna spend on your portrait, you understand?”
And finally, her smile is back, gone is the unsure frown.
Jinx nods and you nod while smiling with her, going in for a kiss…multiple kisses. Kisses all over her precious face, because she deserves to feel loved. To know that she’s loved.
You can be put your timidness to the side for the hour. She needs your confidence in your feelings right now. Your confidence in her.
"Now get in my lap, I need a better look at your pretty face." Your teasing demand flusters her. She immediately settles in your lap so your chests touch. It wasn't everyday (really ever) that you spoke to her like that, always too shy to do so. But Jinx finds that she kind of likes it, she wants you to demand contact with her, especially in a position like this. It makes her feel gooey inside. Butterflies uncontainable.
It's not exactly ideal, you're not used to having your girlfriend in your lap while sketching. But you wanted this, and it's not making it impossible. All you have to do is wrap your arms around her pretty waist and rest your chin on her shoulder. It's perfect.
"For science huh? To 'get a better look' at me was it? Toots, if you wanted me in your lap you coulda just said that!" She teases, assuming you just wanted her there to have a more accurate picture.
You quietly confess, "jus' wanted you in my lap." Giving her waist a squeeze while you sketch her jaw.
You can tell you've stumped her (but this time in a good way). She's gone impossibly quiet and still. Warm too, just like she always does when you attempt to flirt. The two of you were truly unable to get over and deal with the timidness of being affectionate. Of being together.
And just like always, she melts. Like how ice cream does in the sun (a sugary delight you've been able to share with Jinx once). Her stiff back let's loose and she squeezes in return. She holds on like you'll disappear. You wouldn't. Not ever, because how could you? When you love her and when she loves you to death?
It’s quiet for the rest of the time you’re drawing, Jinx resorting to drawing patterns on your back, seemingly drifting off at some point. She internally scolded herself for it, not wanting you to think she was bored but it was taking a while. She wanted to have this moment with you though, it was so delicate, something that’s not occurred before. Especially with the earlier conversation. It was special.
You dot the last bit of her freckles on the white sheet. "All done," a kiss to the side of her head that makes her impossibly warm and dig her face deeper. "Needa color it in now." Color it with the paint the two of you always make a mess out of, there's no doubt in your mind it'll happen again.
She turns to finally look at it, her eyes wider than you've ever seen. "Holy shit toots, there's no way you did that!"
"Are you accusing me of cheating?"
"Maybe." She always knew you were the best artist of the Undercity (definitely not biased), you were just that good. But this was different. Was it because it was a drawing of her? Well...it was also the fact that it was so accurate. From her eyes, nose, mouth, jaw...even the way her hair curled in front of her face. And the scars, scars even she herself had forgotten about. But you remembered, you hadn't looked at Jinx once the whole time. You really did have her memorized huh? You didn’t have to say it, the way you insisted she sat in your lap instead of on a different chair for reference and the drawing in front of her is enough proof.
Jinx needed to go look in whatever was left of her shattered mirror to see this. She couldn't believe how pretty she looked on a piece of paper. She couldn't believe you took the time to do this. That you even wanted to in the first place. Jinx has been flustered and felt her heart beating awfully fast just from your gaze alone. But she thinks her heart might be about ready to explode, much like her countless monkey bombs or firelights.
She's unsure how to contain or show this rush of deep, deep affection, so she pushes your face from where it's searching her reaction and jumps out your lap, rushing for your paint cans.
You're kind of confused, but also accepting of her reaction. You're used to it, not that she always runs away due to avoiding feelings. Definitely not. Jinx was one to have so much affection for something or someone that you just...want to pinch, squeeze or...bite it. Luckily she hasn't got you (yet). It was a little shove, probably to prevent herself from sinking her teeth into your cheek. (You truly wouldn't have minded) (you kind of would have, it hurts).
She's back in front of you holding up a bucket half full of bright blue paint. At her feet she's set down small cans of various blues, pinks, and purples. Her favorite colors, obviously.
"Here ya go toots!” There’s no doubt in your mind you’ll be making a mess with the paint when you’re done.
Except, you haven’t even picked out a paint brush before you feel her hands grab your waist from behind, the familiar feeling of paint transferring from her touch to your body.
You look back at her, squinting. “Excuse me?”
“What? Can’t grab my toots’ love handles?”
You turn around, grabbing her hands and pulling her closer to you. You take a peak at her handy work, the blue on your waist making you feel things. You won’t let her know that though.
“Two can play at that game.”
“Try me then toots.”
You release your hands from hers and cup her face with them, leaving blue prints of your palms on her cheeks.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year
Text
crayon
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a/n: I just couldn't help but do something more for this adorable fantasy
warnings: bucky barnes x reader, fluff, shy!reader, colouring
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Cheek smooched against your palm, you had nearly flattened yourself out completely against the table as you filled in the blank spots on the flower in front of you with the vibrant crayons scattered all around the table.
If you hadn’t been so enraptured by your relaxing task, you would have properly spotted his looming shadow before Bucky wordlessly pulled out the chair beside you and sat down. Tearing your eyes from the colouring book, your heart skipped a beat as it always did when you saw the man that you had been nursing a crush on that was so bad, you could barely get a coherent sentence out in his presents if any words at all. 
Like looking up at the sky, his blue eyes firm on you, yours widening under his unwavering gaze, quickly opting to shift your vision back down to the paper, shifting your palm to hide more of your embarrassing blush. Suddenly you felt like you could hear everything. The scrap of your green crayon against the paper, your nervous breathing, even your heartbeat thumped profusely in your ears. 
But just as you were about to say something, break the deafening silence, Bucky simply snatched up the purple pastel resting right by his fingertips, and slowly, as if waiting for your permission, he began to colour in the far most corner from where you were working. 
Biting down on your blooming smile, you buried your flushed face in the peaceful task and didn’t pick it up again until Bucky’s knuckles suddenly ghosted against your own, his colouring haven slowly sneaked closer and closer to the spot that you were still working on. You hoped he didn’t spot the goosebumps your own eyes saw litter your forearm as the back of his hands gently brushed against your own. 
Timidly lifting your gaze from the half-tinted floral arrangement printed on the open page, you looked into the ocean of his eyes, already fixed on you. A gentle smile twitched on his lip as you nervously scrambled to avert your gaze, the butterflies in your stomach being almost too much to bear, yet so wonderful at the same time.
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