#Hand Block print shirts for kids
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
classiccottonss · 2 months ago
Text
Jaipur Printed Shirts by Classiccottons.in
Looking for a touch of tradition mixed with modern style? Discover the beauty of Jaipur printed shirts at Classic Cottons. Our collection features exquisite hand block print shirts that bring together the rich heritage of Jaipur’s textile art with contemporary fashion.
The Charm of Jaipur Prints
Jaipur is renowned for its vibrant and intricate textile designs, and our Jaipur printed shirts showcase the best of this traditional craft. Hand block printing is an age-old technique where artisans use carved wooden blocks to create unique patterns on fabric. This method ensures that every shirt has its own distinctive design, making each piece truly one-of-a-kind.
Why Hand Block Print Shirts?
Hand block print shirts from Classic Cottons are more than just clothing—they’re a piece of art. The handblock printing process involves pressing blocks dipped in dye onto fabric, resulting in detailed and beautiful patterns. This not only adds a touch of elegance to your wardrobe but also supports traditional craftsmanship.
Stylish and Versatile
Our Jaipur printed shirts are designed to suit any occasion. Whether you’re dressing up for a special event or keeping it casual, these shirts offer versatility and style. Pair them with formal trousers for a refined look or with jeans for a relaxed, yet stylish appearance. The unique prints ensure you stand out in a crowd, no matter where you go.
Quality You Can Trust
At Classic Cottons, we prioritize quality. We use high-grade cotton fabric that’s soft, breathable, and durable. Each shirt is carefully crafted to ensure it not only looks good but also feels great to wear. Our commitment to quality means you can enjoy the beauty of hand block print shirts for years to come.
Why Choose Classic Cottons?
Classic Cottons is dedicated to offering you the finest Jaipur printed shirts. Our collection reflects a blend of traditional craftsmanship and modern design, providing you with stylish options that honor the art of hand block printing. By choosing Classic Cottons, you’re embracing a piece of Jaipur’s rich heritage while staying fashionable.
Conclusion
Explore the charm of Jaipur with our hand block print shirts at Classic Cottons. Our collection offers a perfect blend of tradition and style, ensuring that you look and feel your best. Visit our website to browse our range and find your new favorite shirt today.
0 notes
classiccottons · 5 months ago
Text
Hand Block Print Shirts vs. Screen Print: Which Is Better?
If you're into fashion and love unique styles, you might have heard of hand block print shirts and screen print shirts. Each has its own charm, but which one is better for you? Let's dive into the details!
Hand Block Print Shirts:
Craftsmanship: Hand block printing is a traditional art where skilled artisans carve designs onto wooden blocks and stamp them onto fabric. Each piece is unique due to the manual process.
Uniqueness: Since each shirt is handcrafted, no two pieces are exactly alike. This adds a special, one-of-a-kind touch to your wardrobe.
Feel and Texture: The ink from hand block prints tends to seep into the fabric, creating a softer feel. This method is often used for cotton fabrics, enhancing their breathability.
Classic Cottons Touch: At Classic Cottons, we celebrate the artistry of hand block printing, offering shirts that showcase intricate designs and vibrant colors. Our shirts are perfect for those who appreciate craftsmanship and individuality.
Screen Print Shirts:
Precision: Screen printing uses stencils and mesh screens to apply layers of ink onto the fabric. It's great for reproducing intricate designs with precision and consistency.
Versatility: This method allows for a wide range of colors and effects, making it popular for creating bold and eye-catching designs.
Durability: The ink sits on top of the fabric, making screen prints more durable and resistant to fading over time.
Which Is Better?
Personal Preference: Choosing between hand block print and screen print shirts depends on your style preferences and what you value most in clothing.
Artisan Appeal: If you love the idea of wearing something crafted by skilled artisans, appreciate the uniqueness of each piece, and enjoy the soft, breathable feel of cotton, then hand block print shirts from Classic Cottons are a perfect fit for you.
Whether it's the artistic flair of hand block prints or the bold precision of screen prints, both methods offer distinct advantages. At Classic Cottons, we embrace the beauty of hand block printing, ensuring that each shirt tells a story of craftsmanship and creativity. Explore our collection to find shirts that speak to your unique style and passion for quality.
Remember, it's not just about what you wear, but how it makes you feel. Choose shirts that resonate with your personality and values, and let your wardrobe reflect your individuality with Classic Cottons.
0 notes
lovebugism · 1 year ago
Note
could i request “mean” eddie and reader going swimming somewhere and maybe she’s in her swimsuit and someone says something that makes him jealous? also just want to say i love you writing sm!!! <3
hi, lovely! thanks so much for your request and your kind words!! i hope you like it xoxo (1.7k)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
Eddie can’t stop staring at you.
It’s not like it’s his fault, though. You’re all sprawled out beside him in a plastic lounge chair, clad only in a bathing suit that leaves little to the imagination. It’s an all-black number with little white bats all over it, clinging to you like it was made to do it.
It’s a wonder the two of you even made it to Hawkins Community Pool, honestly. Eddie's thoughts verge on obscene at the sight of you. But then again, they tend to when you're on his mind.
You lay with your hands folded above your head, totally surrendering yourself to the golden sunlight. It gives Eddie the opportunity to gaze at you fully — even though sometimes he thinks he’s already memorized you by now.
He analyzes you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you, like you’re the last thing he’ll ever see.
The pudge of the top of your breast spills over the hem of your bikini. The skin of your stomach bulges underneath your high-waisted bottoms. The fullness of your thighs begins to glow beneath the glittering daylight.
He commits all of this to memory and figures maybe that’s what the sun’s doing too, as it paints your skin more golden.
He doesn’t know how he got you. 
But he hopes your eyes are closed behind your thick glasses. Or, at the very least, that they block your view of him. Eddie knows he’s unabashedly staring at you, but he also knows he can’t stop. He doesn’t want his ogling to be met with your teasing — even if he is deserving of it.
The Lord of the Rings book in his hands goes quickly abandoned. It’s a feat he even made it to page fifty. He’s flipped through it enough times to memorize it, though. Sort of like you.
Like the novel, he could read you a million times and never get bored. The only real difference is he finds you much, much sexier than printed words on a page.
“I can feel you staring, you know?” 
Your voice jolts him from his stupor, light and golden like the slowly setting sun. Your words are nearly drowned out by the sounds of the bustling pool — screaming kids, splashing water, and people trying to converse over it all.
Eddie’s far too attuned to you not to hear you, though.
You’re not looking at him, but he can see the corner of your lip quirk in a slight half-smile.
“Can you?” he deadpans, turning back to his book like he hadn’t been looking at you at all.
The words are all mush, though. He’ll blame it on the stifling summer heat. He was the idiot out here in a black t-shirt and trunks, after all.
“Yeah,” you nod.
He sees your smile completely when you turn to look at him. The sun pierces through your amber lenses, making your eyes more visible beneath them. You’ve got one eye squinted to evade the blinding light. The beam you wear is somehow brighter.
“’S like spidey senses, you know? I can always tell when you’re looking at me, Munson.”
Eddie wants to be embarrassed at the thought. He knows that you’re joking — if only just the slightest bit — but it makes him think about all the other times he’s shamelessly gawked at you. He spent years doing it before you ever got together.
Many of his high school years were spent paying more attention to you than his homework. He thinks maybe that’s why he had such a hard time graduating.
“You’re saying my girlfriend’s a superhero?” the boy jokes, brows raised behind his curly bangs and chocolate eyes going wide. They look more golden in the sunlight, and they twinkle with mischief.
“Uh-huh,” you hum with a wider smile than before. “You didn’t know?”
He shakes his head. Some of his curls still stick to him, damp with the sweat beading on his milky skin. “No. I can confidently say that I didn’t.”
“Good. It was supposed to be a secret, anyway.”
Eddie doesn’t mean to laugh, but he does.
It’s a sharp exhale through his nose more than anything, paired with a crooked pink smile. He wishes he knew how much of a dork you were a year ago. He might’ve asked you out sooner.
“Brush up on your spidey senses before you go out patrolling the neighborhood, alright, Spiderwoman?” he jests in a monotone, turning the page of his book even though he hadn’t actually read it. “’Cause I totally wasn’t staring at you.”
You know he’s lying.
And it’s not just because you could feel it — even though you think his button-eyed gaze can be palpable in its attentiveness at times. But what you lacked in superhero senses, you made up for in awareness of all things Eddie Munson. 
You knew when he got quiet that he was in his own head. And being that you hadn’t heard a single page turn in several minutes, you figured his eyes must’ve been on something other than the book in his hands.
Your quip was hardly more than a lucky guess, really.
“Good,” you hum as you flip over onto your stomach. Your backside had been completely deprived of sunlight before now. You prop yourself up on your elbows and lift your sunglasses to the top of your head. Your teasing gaze is no longer amber-coated. “‘Cause that would mean you find me attractive.”
“And that would just be a travesty, wouldn’t it?” Eddie scoffs.
He looks over at you again and finds your changed position. Your back is pointed towards the sun now, the very bottom of your ass on full display. Your thighs are indented softly from the slatted chair beneath you.
He can’t pry his eyes off the combination of the two despite knowing you’re watching him right back.
“It’s okay if you have the hots for me, Eds,” you tell him, feigning sympathy. “I’d only make fun of you a little bit.”
Eddie stays silent for half a moment too long, then shakes his head to dismiss the thought. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. It’s just the heat.”
You scoff. “Yeah. Let’s blame the way you’re ogling at me on sunstroke.”
He still finds it a bit difficult to be your boyfriend sometimes — or just a boyfriend. And it’s not because of you. Not in the slightest. He just sort of put a wall around himself when he was younger. He’s been behind it so long he’s forgotten how to let people back in.  
And even though he hasn’t said it yet, he loves the goddamn shit outta you. But for some reason, he can’t let himself be vulnerable in that way — can’t even ask to touch you without coming up with some lame excuse that covers up all his vulnerable-ness.
“You, uh… You put sunscreen on, right?” he asks, shifting slightly in his chair. He spares a brief glance your way from the corner of his eye, halfway concealed by the fluffy brown curls framing his face.
“Yeah?” you answer with pinched brows. “Right after I forced you to put some on, remember?”
He scrunches his nose as he squints at you. It takes everything in you not to lean over and kiss the tip of it. “I don’t know,” the boy singsongs as he tilts his head to his shoulder. “I don’t remember it, actually…”
“Then maybe you’re the one that needs to get checked out, Eds.”
“I think I should just put some lotion on your back,” he summarizes with a shrug, already rising from his chair to swing his legs over the side of it. “You know, just to be safe.”
The teasing glint in his eyes makes you grin. You trap your bottom lip between your teeth to dim its brightness, lest how happy he makes you go to his head.
Your feet lift in their air and twist together with a girlish excitement. It makes your ass wiggle gently. Eddie swears you’re doing it just to tease him.
“Get my legs, too, while you’re at, yeah?” you quip.
Eddie reaches for the tote beside your chair with an effervescence that can only be described as a boy on Christmas morning — his present: the opportunity to touch you. He rises again with the blue bottle in his hand.
A low whistle sounds from behind the both of you.
“Looking good, sweetheart,” Billy compliments with a smirk as he walks by your chair. He’s in his lifeguard uniform — a pair of red swim trunks and his toned, golden torso.
He lifts his sunglasses from his face and rests them on top of his curled mullet. His crystal blue eyes gape at you, far sharper than Eddie’s chocolate syrup ones.
“Bite me, Hargrove,” you deadpan in response.
“I like the sound of that,” he laughs, chomping spearmint gum between his pearly white teeth. He spins on his flip-flops and walks backward to keep ogling at you. “Just give me the word and I’m yours, darlin’.”
He disappears in the bustling crowd after that, fading like rubbed-in sunscreen. You forget about him the second he’s gone.
He’s always been an asshole like that. It’d be a rookie mistake to give more than half a shit about him. But Eddie still feels the boy’s presence like a mean, lean, green monster full of envy. It’s like he’s still there — close enough to punch, even.
He isn’t sure if it’s the heat or if he’s actually seeing red.
“What an asshole,” you murmur under your breath.
“I’m gonna kill him,” Eddie snaps.
“Whoa,” you drawl within a laugh. “Slow your roll, tiger.”
The boy's eyes go wide as he looks over at you again. “I’m not even sure what I just said, honestly.”
“You’re a dork who plays Dungeons and Dragons, remember? You can’t start talking about fighting Billy Hargrove.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right,” he sighs, rigid body finally loosening with the heavy exhale. He squints at you after. “You don’t think I could take him?”
“I don’t thank you have to,” you lilt.
“That’s such a non-answer, babe.”
“I’m just saying,” you giggle with a shrug. “I’m asking you to feel me up, Eds. Not that creep.”
A rosy smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth, smug and full of love.
You meet it with a grin of your own. 
“C’mon, I’m burning to a crisp over here,” you urge, shifting in the chair just to make your thighs jiggle in the way you know Eddie likes.
His eyes glaze over at the sight — one he’s seen a million times now — and you know it’s done the trick.
“Let’s give Hargrove a show, yeah?”
4K notes · View notes
suga-kookiemonster · 7 months ago
Text
ctrl-alt-del | jjk (teaser)
Tumblr media
summary⇢ you graduated bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but, to your extreme disappointment, your big girl job isn't turning out to be nearly as exciting as you thought it would be. still, you're holding out hope that your talents will soon be recognized and your coworkers will stop trying to include you in their gossip sessions. enter jungkook, the quiet IT guy who's gradually making your days more bearable. (and if you find him easy on the eyes, that's nobody's business but yours.) pairing⇢ jungkook/reader teaser word count⇢ 1.4k genre⇢ smut | humor | office!au warnings⇢ nothing too bad for this teaser! just a mention of oral
a/n⇢this fic has literally been sitting in my wips for YEARS lmao. i feel like it's finally time to set it free 🕊️✨ it's looking like it's gonna lean more towards pwp, but there's definitely still enough plot in there to keep it interesting. not sure when it will be up, but wanted to share a snippet to get your thoughts and get myself excited to finish the last leg--fingers crossed for the next month or so 🤞🏾🙌🏾💜
Tumblr media
When you graduated top of your class with a marketing degree and a job already lined up, you weren’t big-headed to assume you would be given a lot in the beginning. No, you knew that you were the new kid on the block and needed to prove yourself first, needed to work your way up from the bottom. But what you definitely didn’t anticipate was working up from thefigurative trenches, almost exclusively doing busywork—constantly making coffee runs, catering business lunches, printing out endless spreadsheets.
Eighty-thousand dollars in debt, and you are a glorified intern.
You’re positively itching to hit the ground running and get your hands dirty, your job isn’t too bad. The people there are all nice and welcoming, the complimentary coffee in the break room is decent enough for your dwindling bank account, and every couple of weeks, the company sponsors an employee barbecue were everyone can fraternize and enjoy free food.
“Apparently it fosters unity and teamwork,” your coworker Joy informs you as you both stand in the food line. “Seokjin—that’s our CEO—is really big on unity and teamwork.”
Joy is also a member of your marketing team. Though as sweet as can be, she has no filter, and thus always has a lot to say about everything—which has helped you when it comes to learning the ropes about the company, but has also had you clutching your imaginary pearls in some situations where you found it inappropriate. Despite only being a year older than you, her title of Marketing Associate (instead of your measly Assistant)means that she technically outranks you, though she doesn’t usually enforce that fact (unless there was something that needed to be copied or filed, of course). Still, she immediately took you under her wing when you first started, and she is the closest person to a friend you have at work (even though her daily coffee order is always so ridiculous, you are convinced that she has to be fucking with you—or at least engaging in some form of mild hazing.).
“I think it’s nice,” you reply. “I’ll never say no to free food, and they let us out early and everything.”
“I mean, pretty sure you can get the hotdogs twelve in a pack at the dollar store,” Joy quips, raising her eyebrows at you pointedly. “But sometimes the boys from Sales take their shirts off and play soccer, so there’s that.”
Your eyes dart to said Sales boys against your will, gaze drawn to Jung Hoseok as he chats animatedly with his teammates by the tables. You’ve only spoken to him once or twice, but his fiery red hair and even brighter smile caught your attention immediately, your heart rate accelerating at the sight of him in hallways mere days into starting your new position. Who better to have a mild work crush on than a sweet-talking salesman who winks at you sometimes in passing?
An appreciative noise has you turning back around, embarrassed at being caught ogling how shapely Hoseok’s butt looks in his dress pants today, but it’s just Wendy from accounting, Joy’s best friend and thus a harmless, familiar face. Wendy has cut in front of a few editors to join you and Joy, and the way that she smiles at you lets you know she’s up to no good. “He’s cute, huh?” she asks, leaning towards you conspiratorially. “I would definitely give him the good ol’ suck behind the dumpsters over there, if you catch my drift.”
“Err…yeah, I do,” you reply awkwardly. She had been explicitly clear—keyword explicit—so there definitely isn’t any room for misunderstandings. Is this truly appropriate work function conversation? From the way the editors behind you are politely clearing their throats, you think not.
“Behind the dumpster?” Joy asks curiously. “He’s standing right next to some sturdy tables that I, for one, would take great advantage of—”
“I’m gonna go get us some drinks,” you announce loudly, your neck heating up. “Can you grab me a hot dog, Joy?”
“Sure,” she says dismissively, already distracted by her sudden debate with Wendy about the most convenient place to suck off salesman Jung.
The whole conversation is making you uncomfortable. You are not a prude—far from it—but there is a time and place for everything, and your coworkers’ blasé attitude towards speaking about inappropriate topics at company functions on company time rattles you a bit. So instead of engaging in the risqué discussion further, you make your way to the cluster of brightly-colored coolers that presumably hold beverages, sidling up to the only other person lingering the area.
“Anything good?” you ask cordially, making your coworker, who had apparently been deep in thought while considering his beverage options, startle a bit.
He’s tall, his large frame covered in the appropriate business casual attire of nice jeans and a powder-blue buttonup. When he turns his head to look at you, you’re met with large, dark eyes blinking in surprise from behind wire-rimmed glasses. Said eyes dart around for a moment before determining that you were, in fact, speaking to him.
The man clears his throat. “Just the usual,” he says, voice soft. Timid.
“The usual?” you repeat. There are little hoops dangling from his earlobes, and you brush off your surprise at seeing them, returning your gaze to the coolers. Water, a clear soda, a cola. “The basics, you mean. Well, can’t really complain, right? Seeing as it’s all free. I think it’s really nice of them.”
Your companion seems surprised at your words. “It is,” he agrees softly, eyes meeting yours for a second before dropping back down to the cooler. “Um, are you...are you new?”
“Damn, I guess my cover’s blown.” You shoot him a wry smile. “Yeah, I just started a couple of weeks ago. What gave it away?”
“It’s just—no one else here really cares about these barbecues anymore,” he admits, looking at you, but not quite. More like, in your direction. “Everyone has forgotten to appreciate the little things.”
“Nothing is a given,” you shrug. “So you need to appreciate things when you can. And besides, those lots of little things can really add up without you realizing it.”
He finally seems to look at you properly, and the weight of his large, gentle brown eyes throws you off for a second. “They can,” he agrees, lips slowly drifting up. 
“What do we have over here?” a loud voice interrupts, a hand falling to your shoulder. You look up, and are met with the brightness of salesman Jung.
“Ah,” Hoseok says with a wink, reaching into the cooler. “I love Sprite.”
“Me too,” you reply automatically, and then immediately want to smack yourself. Because you don’t—carbonated beverages make you break out. But your mouth had formed the lie without your permission.
Embarrassed, you reach into the cooler, grabbing three water bottles. “See you later,” you squeak, avoiding eye contact as you make your escape.
Joy and Wendy are already watching you when you return to where they have procured a table, and when you hand them their waters, Joy raises an eyebrow. “I was wondering how long you were going to talk to that IT guy.”
“Yeah, and why did you leave when Hoseok showed up?” Wendy pouted. “_____, the universe is only going to give you so many opportunities. If you don’t want the ball, then pass it to me! Goddamn.”
“IT guy?” you ask, hoping to slide past that last remark.
“Yeah. His name is Jungkook, I think? Mostly works with the printers, started a couple months ago.” Joy shrugs, obviously disinterested by the topic. She reaches for the ketchup bottle in the center of the table and squirts some on her hot dog. “This is the first time I’ve seen him at a barbecue, though. Honestly, I’m surprised he even came out, because the IT dudes generally keep to themselves. The rarely leave their little tower,” she adds with a dismissive wave.
Wendy scoffs. “Who cares about Jeremy! Hurry up and eat, I’m sure Sales is gonna start their soccer game soon.”
“Soccer game?” you ask.
“The sales department likes to play soccer during these things,” Joy informs you. Her expression brightens. “Hey, maybe Hoseok will take his shirt off again! Let us pray.”
To your coworkers’ disappointment, Hoseok did not take his shirt off. But they certainly had a good time watching him run back and forth across the grass.
1K notes · View notes
thir10th · 5 months ago
Text
The getaway pt.1 - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader
ALL OF THESE CAN BE READ AS STAND-ALONES
Tumblr media
summary: you and Emily have been dating for several months now. When you finally get a free weekend, you decide to go on a little secret romantic getaway. tw: nothing yet, just fluff, a tiny bit of suggestive content but it's literally just a conversation, nothing else. secret relationship. a/n: you guys seemed to really like the idea so here it is! this first chapter so it's mostly to set the mood
Your leg shakes under the dinner table, waiting for Emily to finish up cooking dinner, her body swings around the kitchen, moving fluidly and confidently at the rhythm of the music she had chosen to play to set the abience.
You know she loves cooking, but you also know after getting home from a week-long case, this is the last thing she wants to do.
She always insists: "no baby, i'll cook, you can just sit there and look pretty, let me take care of it" and you loved her for that, but it hasn't been 12 hours yet since you had chased an unsub for three blocks.
She deserved a break. You both did. You had already decided that.
The pasta plate she sets in front of you with a big smile takes you out of your head, you smile back, it smells amazing, there's no doubt about it.
"I'm starving" she says, dropping on the seat in front of you, grabbing a fork and rolling up the spaghetti.
You move the pasta around, looking at her eat, trying to decide how to phrase it.
"what?" she asks mouth-fulled, noticing your stare.
"I wanted to ask you something" she leaves the fork, slurps up one last spaghetti hanging from her lips, and wipes her mouth with the napkin. Now you have her full attention.
"ugh, I'm... flattered, but-" she says in a sarcastic tone, but you cut her.
"relax, Em, I'm not asking you to marry me" she chuckles "i was thinking... you know how, if no case comes in tomorrow by five, we are having the whole weekend for ourselves, right?" you start.
"yeah, why?" she asks impatiently.
"well, I was talking to Penelope the other day, about how she had found this amazing hotel with Kevin, how they had had the best time, with activities for couples, good food, a big pool, you know, all that" she listens carefully at your words, without interrupting you, takes a sip of her wine, and nods, considering the idea.
"ok look" you grab your purse, taking a booklet you had printed out specifically for this conversation, hoping the images would convince her, you hand it to her so she can take a look.
She runs her eyes, scanning the photos on the booklet and reading over the information.
"it's been a long week, you deserve a break. We deserve a break" you conclude.
"Ooh- each room has a hot tub, and full time room service! and a steam room too?" she points out, looking at the pictures.
"And a balcony with views of the pool from every room! this could be it, Em, it's perfect for us." you add, after spending the whole trip back on the plane looking at their website, you had pretty much memorized it.
Emily angled her head to meet your eye. “If I have my way, you’ll be too occupied to appreciate the views.” the playfulness of her words making you smirk.
"So is that a yes?" you sigh in relief.
"Of course, sign me up!" a wide smile of excitement crosses her face, you let out a triumphant sound, shooting from your seat, walking up to her to grab her face and kiss her lips.
She grabs you by the waist and pulls you to sit onto her lap, your arms surround her neck, her grip tight on your hips to hold you in place.
"Oh, this is gonna be so nice! Think about it, no kids, all inclusive hotel for couples, no more hiding, nothing to worry about, just swim, and sex, and food" she grins at your words, her thumb traces slow circles on the skin left uncovered your shirt
"I could get used to that" she says kissing you again, this time longer, lovingly.
"honey?" she says, pulling away. "Yes?"
"You have already made the reservation, haven't you?" her profiling skills really never fail to amaze you.
"they had an excellent limited time offer, and i was pretty confident you were gonna say yes once I'd show you the booklet" you admit, and she chuckles, instead of getting upset, she just smiles at you and pecks your lips
"what have i done to deserve you?" she says, the dreamy sound of her words making you blush.
"well, dinner just now, and i believe i heard you say something about that balcony? with the views?"
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
She frowns at her computer, sitting on her desk, she has been staring at the screen for a considerable amount of time now, you quietly walk behind her.
"exciting, isn't it?" she doesn't hear you coming by, your words startle her making her jump in her seat
"you scared me" she mutters so no one can hear the conversation.
"sorry" you sit on her desk, right in front of her "i just thought if you're gonna spend the last fifteen minutes staring at the clock, we should do it together"
She tries to fight the smile that threatens to spread on her face, she bites her lip and gives you a loving look with her big doe eyes.
"you know, this room is full of profilers, if they saw you here in my desk only a couple of minutes far from five, they might suspect something is going on here"
"something like what? no one has even noticed i'm here, i seat on your desk everyday, nothing new" you say, her eyes leave the computer screen to look at you now.
"oh, i don't know, something like: we have been dating for three months and as soon as we leave this building we are driving two hours to spend our weekend on a hotel resort for couples?" she says sarcastically.
"i just thought it would be fun to watch when the clock strikes 5:00 together, you know, just like in new year's eve, but without the kissing for obvious reasons. Although there will be plenty of that this weekend" she bites her tongue at your words. Teasing Emily has always been so much fun for you, since it's usually the other way around that she teases you.
"the last thing i want you to remind me is how we are actively lying at the people we care most about" she argues, trying to keep her cool
"well, no need to worry about that anymore" you say, and when you both look at the screen, the clock has turned. 5:00 pm, no case has come in, we're free" you state. You stay there, sharing a moment, you stare at each other's eyes.
"god, but how i wish i could kiss you right now" she mutters breaking the silence, her eyes move down to look at your lips, and just for a moment you consider the possibility of sending it all to hell and kissing her senseless right then and there.
"y/n, any plans for the weekend?" Morgan's presence takes you by surprise, he comes behind you carrying is bag, so close, it had been so close, but you'd have to pull up with your coworker's teasing too.
"uhm, yeah, well, not much, no, just, a movie maybe, but who knows really?" you say, Emily tries hiding her grin, but fails.
"did you hear about Prentiss' weekend?" Morgan asks, you shoot a look at her
"ugh, no, big plans?" you say looking at her, lifting an eyebrow in faked confusion
"She, is going away with her girlfriend" he teases, a cocky smile on his lips.
"a girlfriend?! Prentiss! who is the lucky girl?" you say, a little louder than intended. She looks annoyed now that you're joining the teasing from you coworker.
"it's a secret, apparently" Morgan explains, Emily opens her mouth to speak, but only a defeated sound comes out.
"what? really?" you keep up the play, but she shoots you a look of warning, one eyebrow up, her arm on her hip.
"ok, you know what? I'm gonna leave now, you guys can speculate all you want" she takes her bag, and walks to the elevator, you and Derek follow her closely, she does her best to hide her smile.
"hey, I myself feel pretty offended that she won't tell us, after all we've been through, don't you think I deserve a little better?" he says, holding his hand to his chest, while you three wait for the elevator.
"Now, I'm having some ideas of what you deserve right now" the slightly threatening tone of her voice makes your heart throb. You just want to let her push you against that elevator door, let her do whatever she wants to you.
"you know what, I think I'm gonna keep it to myself, just this one time" she concludes, getting out of the elevator, Morgan whines, but she doesn't let it go.
"ok, this way for me" he says, turning right to go find his parking spot
"I'll walk with you" you tell Emily, the corners of your lips curving into a smile. You both say goodbye to Morgan, he leaves with one last "i hope you have a nice one, Prentiss!" and leaves.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Entering the room, you realize how more spacious and comfortable it is that you though, although you should've guessed, considering the fact that i could fit a hot tub on one corner, a full bathroom and the king-sized bed without making it feel narrow.
The hotel bellboy opens the room for you, hands you both of your keys, and leaves. Emily had already taken it upon herself to carry the bags, as they aren't all that heavy. Plus she loved doing those kinds of things for you, carrying your bags, the kind of things you would tease her about for being the chivalrous kid of girlfriend.
After all, you're only staying for a weekend, even if Emily didn't really understand that you don't actually need that many pairs of shoes for only just two nights total.
You look around everywhere, walk to the bathroom, the shower is perfectly big enough to fit you both, and two sinks. You check the hot tub, nd finish your tour by walking to the windows and opening the curtains.
The broad balcony has two chairs, and direct views to the pool, you're high enough to go completely unnoticed by anyone who looked up from it.
You drop to the big bed, star-fished out, meanwhile Emily leaves both your bags right next to the bed.
You sit up, standing to meet her as she looks around the room herself, appreciating the size of it.
"wow, this is almost bigger than my living room" she says, still surprised.
You walk up to her, grab her by the hips and pulling her to you "what do you think?" you ask, she surrounds your neck with her arms, and kisses you sweetly.
"mh, i love it" she purrs, a soft smile on her lips, and kisses you again, this time softer, longer, her lips soft and reassuring, making sure you knew how much she loved it.
"and I love you" she says, her hands running through your back now, "even if you just spent a considerable amount of time mocking me" she adds, and you chuckle.
"it was perfect, he doesn't suspect a thing!" you try to defend yourself, but she's already kissing your neck, finding your pulse point that she knows drives you crazy
"yeah but you didn't think i'd let you just get away with it just like that, mh?" she says, trapping your earlobe between her teeth and biting it softly.
"well, as much as you know i want this, we have to go down for dinner, because someone claimed she didn't need any directions to find the parking lot, and that took about, half an hour" you say teasingly, giving her a soft swat on her ass, unwrapping your arms off her waist to hold her hand.
Emily pouts at the loss of contact, interwining her fingers with yours "well, i found it didn't i? yes, it might have taken me a little longer than expected...."
"half an hour, Emily! We are gonna miss dinner, c'mon, and you can think about how to 'not let me get away with it' when we get back" you grab the room key, and pull her with you, walking out and heading to the elevator door.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
okkk what are we thinking? this was an introduction more than anything, just to set the story.
Feedback here would be greatly appreciated, specially because if you guys have any ideas on how i should continue, or any specific scenarios, i'd be happy to try to add it!!
Like & reblog as always, I'll be publishing the next chapters as i write them so stay tuned for that <33
264 notes · View notes
bloodmoonmuses · 4 months ago
Text
the weatherman's weathered heart | mark lee
genre: weatherman! mark lee x reader, enemies to lovers, slowburn
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[series masterlist] [next chapter]
chapter one: coffee hit and run
This is the third time you’ve told yourself you’d stop drinking coffee, yet here you are again- preparing to do the literal opposite. Autumn has wrapped her fingers around summer’s waist, nippy morning air whistling through the crack of your bedroom window. Your cat, Luna, is napping on an armchair, making you jealous of her furnace-like warmth. You shrug on a denim jacket, a sturdy one passed down from your dad, then make your way down the block. Marnie’s, the ever beloved independent coffee shop in your hometown, is a seven minute walk from your house. 
The conveniency of such is where you place blame for your lack of a backbone. It’s also on your way to work, Jagerman Printing Co., making the practice of scooping up your double americano (with a hefty splash of half and half) a staple in your morning routine. 
A bell rings upon your entry and you shuffle into the short line. There’s three people in front of you: At the front of the line stands the town’s school bus driver. He gets a London fog, requesting half the amount of lavender syrup. Next is an artist type, struggling to hold a thick stack of photos in his hands as he orders his iced macchiato. You’ve seen him in your shop before, attempting to flirt with your coworker, Hongjoong, so he could get a discount on his prints. Finally, just in front of you, is a man in a suit. His hair is aggressively and artificially blonde, navy blue ensemble making it practically glimmer. He’s quite spiffy. Maybe he works at the bank, you think to yourself. 
The alleged banker gets an iced americano. Triple. With an extra shot of espresso. The cashier, Marnie’s eldest daughter named Minnie, jokes that he must be really tired. The blonde man scoffs, but in agreement says, “You have no idea.” He tips generously, 4 dollars and some change, then side steps to wait for his drink. 
Now it’s time to receive your poison. When she recognizes your face, Minnie says, “Your usual?” 
To which you say, “Yes, please.” You tip as well, walking over to the side counter to wait. You pull out your phone, opening it to see that Hongjoong has texted you.
HJ (derogatory): This newspaper intern is clueless. Typo on the order for this week’s batch. Need more prints.
You: omw soon. Chat her up, can’t afford any negative reviews. 
HJ (derogatory): No promises.
You rock back and forth on your feet, thinking about how many more newspapers the girl could possibly need. The most compelling news story you had read in the last year was about the town’s duck pond. This wasn’t exactly the New York Times. The error probably meant you’d be going into work a bit earlier tomorrow. Regardless, you liked your mundane job. Going into printing technology wasn’t the most glamourous, but where else does an affinity to paper and a concerning level of attention to detail lead you? 
The menial admin work, e-mails and scheduling brought you comfort. You liked managing your little team. Some projects were more fun than others: birthday invitations, wedding save-the-dates, highschool yearbooks… Disdain only arose in you when people didn’t know how to do their job. Like this intern. 
For some reason, the interns at the newspaper office across town were in and out like goldfish at a pet store. It felt like every other month you were having to explain to some poor kid how to properly put in a printing request for the coming week. Maybe you should do admin work over there. They’d probably think you were a genius. Or a magician. 
You’re snapped out of your internal dialogue by the feeling of being shoulder checked. Hard. A few seconds pass, during which you register the sensation of liquid soaking through your shirt. The scent of espresso enters your nostrils and you scoff at the situation. Did someone just… spill their coffee on you? 
You whip your head around, words caught in your throat, in an attempt to see who just ruined your morning. In a blur, you recognize the offender to be the blonde man who was in front of you in line. He’s running out of the door, half empty cup sloshing around in his frantic hand, while screaming into his phone. 
“What?! I didn’t approve that poor excuse of a fucking article!” he says. “…Already in print? I said no, that journalist, she-” 
“Hey!” You yell after him, looking at your chest in shock. “I think you spilled something!” 
The bell above the door rings, signaling the alleged banker’s exit. The man doesn’t even look back, too engrossed in his argument to care.
When the adrenaline begins to fade out, you make eye contact with Minnie, who you assume saw the entire exchange from her spot behind the counter. She places your double americano on the counter, the side of the cup with your name sprawled on it facing outward. You walk up to the counter and take the warm drink. 
While handing you some napkins, Minnie says, “At least his was an iced drink.” You look down at your cream colored top and the dark splotch that now adorns it. Fuck.
When you arrive at the printing shop, Hongjoong is beet red. The guy holds so much anger in that little body of his. He can be surprisingly intimidating, when the situation permits such.
“You do realize there’s a big difference between one hundred and one thousand, right?” Hongjoong says, voice laced with annoyance. 
The mousy intern shakes. “Yeah, but– I just figured, y’know… since this is a weekly order, you might’ve realized it was a typo on your own.”
Honjoong chortles. “Oh, so it’s my fault? Newspapers are an antiquated form of media to begin with, and I’m not really sure why we continue to deal with this bullsh-”
You interject, shooting the intern an apologetic smile. “Take it easy, big man. You’re not scaring anyone in that vest,” you say. The intern stifles a scoff. “We’ll just print the rest tomorrow. No biggie.”
“Um, ‘yes biggie’. I don’t wanna work overtime. Gotta finalize the design for those marathon flyers too,” Hongjoong retorts.
He gives you the up-down, taking note of your frazzled demeanor and adds, “What’s with the stain on your shirt?”
“I’ll do it then,” you sigh. “I’ve got nothing better to do. And the stain? Don’t wanna talk about it.” 
Hongjoong humphs. 
Sliding behind the front counter, you place your satchel and americano down at your desk. Then, you head to the back, grabbing the boxes of newspapers you do have printed. They’re still warm from the press, the scent of the ink calming you down- if only slightly. 
“Here’s a hundred copies. I’ll have the others by nine tomorrow morning. Just… be more careful next time,” you tell the intern.
“Got someone to help you carry these?” asks Hongjoong. The intern shakes her head. “I’ll carry them out. Which one’s your car?” The girl points and he promptly gathers the boxes. 
“Hey, by the way,” you say to the girl, “do you know why they need an extra three hundred? The order is usually seven hundred copies a week.”
“Something about an interview with a weatherman. The moms here really like him-”
The door to the shop opens again and you think it’s Hongjoong, but when you turn, it’s the man from the coffee shop. He’s still on the phone. Great. The offender of your coffee hit-and-run is here to add insult to injury. What are the odds of that?
“Speak of the devil…” the intern says under her breath. 
“I’m not exactly sure how the article got approved for print in the first place,” the man whisper-shouts into his phone. “I was told it was going to focus on my passion for meteorology or my down to earth persona. Not digging into my personal life. Whatever the intent, I want it scrapped. Entirely.”
Hongjoong now re-enters the shop, glancing at the suit-clad man, recognition flickering on his face. “Wow, we’ve got a small-town celebrity here in Jagerman’s? To what do we owe the honor?”
Finally, after hanging up the phone, the previously alleged banker says, “I’m here about the newspaper.”
“Just packed up the first batch of copies,” says Hongjoong. “Since when did you work for the newspaper?”
“I don’t work for the newspaper, I’m Mark… Mark Lee?” He says. Then, he looks at you expectantly.
Hongjoong simply laughs. 
“Is that name supposed to mean something to me?” You ask, agitation rising in your chest.
“Channel 127 News? Beloved weatherman and meteorologist?” Mark continues. 
Hongjoong laughs again. “A real big shot,” he says.
You shake your head. “Not ringing a bell.” 
At this, the bank- weather…man scoffs incredulously. “Well if you crack open one of those newspapers, you’ll see my face all over it.”
“Ah. Popular with the moms. Well, as I told this young lady here,” you gesture to the intern, “we’ll have the rest of the copies tomorrow. There was a misunderstanding with the printing order.”
“That’s what I’m here about. I don’t want them printed.” Mark crosses his arms.
“Well, they already are,” you huff. You had cut the intern some slack, but this guy? He’s a grown man pouting over some paper. And he spilled coffee on you. Honestly, you were more upset about the latter- and the fact that Mark seemingly has no recollection of this. Are you that invisible? Forgettable? 
Nevertheless, the weatherman persists. “Then I don’t want them distributed,” he says.
You cross your arms, mirroring Mark. “You have no authority over that decision.”
Mark exhales dramatically, pinching his nose bridge in frustration. “Are you always this rude to your customers?”
“Do you always spill coffee on unassuming printing technicians?” At this, Mark pauses, finally placing your face. As recognition floods his features you add, “Four shots of watered down espresso on my new shirt. It’s a shame really.” Mark’s face flushes.
“What could possibly be in this article that would make you come all the way here? The news station is on the other side of town,” you inquire.
Mark stammers. “It’s nothing-”
“An affair? Tax fraud? Oh my god, I’m the first to hear about Weatherman-Gate,” says Hongjoong.
You chuckle. “‘Small-Town Weatherman Commits Tax Fraud”. What a headline. I’d actually read that.”
“I didn’t commit tax fraud. I just… didn’t approve of the article. So that’s illegal, right?”
The intern tuts. “You undergoing the interview was the approval. No take backs.”
“‘No take backs’? Are you a toddler?” asks Mark.
“I’m 21,” she responds, chipper as ever.
“So, you are a toddler,” you and Hongjoong say in unison. 
“Jinx!” exclaims Hongjoong. “Buy me a coke after my shift?” You wave off his question, returning to the issue at hand.
“I’m sorry, but this isn’t my problem,” you say.
“Look, I’m sorry I spilled coffee on you, I am, but this is my livelihood. I’d really appreciate it if-”
“You’re gonna have to go to the newspaper office,” you contend. “Like I said, this isn’t my problem.” 
Mark goes quiet. As you turn to walk back to your desk, he whispers out a plea. The quiver in his voice makes you stop in your tracks.
“Please.” You spin back around to see that his eyes are now glassy. For a moment, you think he’s about to cry. 
You look over to Hongjoong. He’s not having any of it. Knowing him, he probably thinks this Mark guy is full of shit. However, you (unfortunately) have empathy. Whatever’s in this article, he doesn’t want it to come out. You sigh. The admin at the newspaper isn't gonna like this one bit.
“We only have a portion of them printed,” you confess. “If you can get the editor to change the article by tonight-”
Mark erupts into a gleeful cheer, effectively cutting you off. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He engulfs you into an awkward embrace, jumping up and down like a little girl. 
Hongjoong snaps a picture. “A lot of Facebook moms are gonna be jealous of you,” he says.
While in Mark’s hold, you remember the stain on your shirt. “One more thing.”
Mark immediately concedes, finally freeing you from his death grip. “Yes. Anything. I’ll do anything,” he says.
“You owe me a new shirt.”
a/n: feedback is always appreciated! thx for reading! <3
75 notes · View notes
teddybearsandspaceships · 6 months ago
Text
Some random notes from yesterday's (25/05/2024) Scar stream. Not even all of the best parts because there were so many, at one point I was just laughing out loud pretty much continuously.
A chatter mentions Scar being the "mob boss." Scar is immediately delighted. In the shopping district he won't be the zoo keeper, he'll be the mob boss with his own outfit etc.
Scar built the nether portal for his train (it looks super cool!) and is now transporting skeletons to the nether so they shoot anyone approaching it because he wants to discourage people from using his nether portal. He put his own heads on the skeletons and calls them "Scar Junior." Only one of them dies.
Doc shows up for distraction and support. He teaches Scar things about redstone, like how you can place a lever on the block next to a rail to activate it. They complain about the new YouTube layout, Doc blames Elon Musk, who according to Scar lives in Doc's head rent-free 28 hours a day.
"just because you look like a taxi driver in Indiana Jones doesn't make you less evil"
Ren shows up too. Doc and Ren start to complain about shipping. Scar tells them a heartwarming story about his local UPS guy.
apparently Doc was a wandering trader in the woods as a kid. He traded home-cooked German food to American soldiers from a nearby base. For ammunition.
Next topic: the "worst" (unrestricted) fireworks. At some point Doc does an exaggerated German accent. Doc also made a joke about Scar being 48, Scar says he prefers the rumors about him being smart and handsome, Doc says that's just the truth.
Scar and Doc getting trolled by horns, including Cub shouting "help" which they both thought was real for a second. Chat suspects "horn man" is Grian, but it's such a huge variety I'm pretty sure it has to be Cub. Finally Cub shows up (briefly)
After all the skeletons were moved Scar wants to add a drowned. He got the go-ahead from Etho to take one from his farm. Scar blocks off Etho's portal and Doc wonders what he's getting dragged into, calls himself an Ethogirl once again
unfortunate realization: a drowned will not attack people with tridents in the nether because there's neither water nor night time. But then chat did experiments and they say it should work? Spoiler: it works very well.
the first trident guy refused to put anything on his head, but the second one put on Scar's hat \o/ so he can even move during the day. It becomes night though, Scar asked people in chat to sleep and Bdubs logs on ^^ a few seconds too late though, Ren slept first.
Oh noo, the trident guy hit a free-ranging iron golem and was killed. Bdubs joins the group just to say it serves them right. Bdubs is telling on them to Etho.
Doc refuses to mess with Etho's landscaping. Bdubs makes a walkway but very carefully. Scar, head in hands, this is what it's like with Etho fangirls… next Minecon, Scar says he'll print Bdubs a shirt with Etho's face on it. Bdubs says Scar is the one obsessed with him, coming over all the time.
Scar talking about a Hermitcraft rule called the "open seas rule", if something is built on the ocean it's free for taking. (Bdubs is skeptical)
Bdubs says dealing with Etho is like dealing with a rabbit. Don't pester it, you just have to leave it and it'll come to you. "How many moms does Etho have on this server." "This is what it's like having a friend." "Oh I wouldn't know" xD "We're friends not moms"
Doc complains about how hungry he is. It's late and he really wants to eat his mini pizza. Scar: why don't you just get a feeding tube, then you don't have to eat.
Bdubs: "I'm just taking notes for Etho later." Scar: "this is just Limited Life the whole time." "Every second is a second closer to Etho logging on and catching you guys"
Scar is now shifting the blame for their misfortunes to Tango because he never offered help or even made jokes in chat. Threatens to throw him out of the LNC, even ^^
"Ooh, you're not trapping Etho's portal!" "No, it's his own" "Oh there's no reason for me to be here then." Bdubs logs out immediately, then…
NOW Etho logs in xD "Etho's here, he's gonna come over here and cause an issue." "What's this about trapping my portal?", and other quotes such as, "I'm watching what you're doing Scar and it's infuriating me." "Put some water down" ("It's the nether!"), telling Bdubs he should have let his iron golem die instead of healing it, and "What you're building a rollercoaster over here, what is this"
"How do we do this, Doc?" "I don't know, give Etho some blocks and let him do it" "No no, I came for the show" Doc is just standing there with two dozen tridents in the ground in front of him xD
"You're like the muppets, those two older ones" - Doc about Ethubs. "We're the comic relief" "Yeah that's it"
Etho is concerned, they're representing Hermitcraft after all, people will think they're incompetent. Etho: "Tango, what do you think?" "Oh god don't tell me Tango's here." Tango is now here :D
Scar: "just to be clear, I am competent, things just didn't go to plan…"
Scar is in protest to both the nether and their nether hub. Etho: "If only we had a couple people around here often referred to as the best builders ever…"
Etho, contemplating the skeletons and trident guy: "So what are you going to do if Cub comes by with his Thorns armor?" Scar hides his head in his hands.
aww, Bdubs and Tango telling Scar LNC will help him with that mountain ^^
Doc finally logs out. Spoiler: he got his mini pizza.
44 notes · View notes
ihugzminseo · 9 months ago
Text
stray kids scenarios; 1/8. bangchan.
Tumblr media
pairing : service dom!chan x afab!reader
synopsis : lucas, chan's brother, just graduated, and you'd had no idea chan wasn't joking when he said his family stayed out as late as possible when events like these came up. you'd held out for as long as you could, but now you're home and you need chan. bad.
warning : exhibitionism, public play, teasing
word count : 0.5k
a/n : i was originally going to post all 8 needy!reader scenarios together, but chapter 1 of that changbin and jisung x reader series is still in the works so here's something to distract from my writers block and procrastination..!
Tumblr media
it was late. entirely too late.
chan's brother had just graduated, and the two of you had promised him you wouldn't miss the ceremony even if the world was on fire. but maybe you could try firefighting for once, because if you knew you'd be out from 9am to 12am the next day, you probably would've stayed home.
chan had told you his family was serious about events like graduations and weddings and birthdays and what not being literal all-day things, sun up to sun down. and you hadn't believed it.
chan's birthday passed during touring, so the 9 of you just went out to eat. but when you and chan went to australia for hannah's graduation just a few years prior, you had been out for nearly 9 hours, until it started raining of course.
but this ceremony was at the beginning of december, which was summer in south korea, so you knew the rain couldn't save you. and as beautiful as you looked, you'd really wished it would've rained, so everyone could go home and you could get to chan; because holy fuck, he looked amazing.
he wore a deep blue button up shirt, rolling up his sleeves and leaving his top two buttons undone. he'd been indecisive between several pairs of slacks, but decided on a gray pair, which perfectly emphasized the print of his cock through his pants - the cock you were desperate to get. he'd added black timberland's to his look, with his laces finally tied for once, but only because this was a "formal" event. his blonde hair was shaggy and curly, and it turned you on so badly to watch him run his hands through it.
you had no idea why you were as needy for him as you were; you'd been able to blame it on pms at first, but you and chan both knew your period had ended a week ago so there was no way you could use that as an excuse. or maybe it wasn't pms, maybe it was just because you were dating the christopher bahng.
it started off with you wrapping your arms around his waist and intertwining your fingers with his whenever you got the chance. this led to chan peppering your forehead, cheeks, lips, neck and hands with open mouthed kisses, running his hands up and down your thighs and whispers of "we'll be home soon, i promise".
the car ride home was only 30 minutes, but it felt like it could've been an eternity. chan offered to drive, and lucas sat in the front seat next to him. you were in the back with hannah and chan's parents, and all you could do was squeeze your thighs together and throw your head back against your seat.
hannah noticed how off you looked, and tried to hold conversation with you because she thought you were just stressed or tired, to no avail. you'd let out half-assed responses and eventually hannah gave in and just scrolled through some app you couldn't see until she got out.
after chan dropped off his parents and siblings, the two of you drove home in silence that was only inflicted because you knew you opening your mouth would result in needy whines and whispers falling out.
but as soon as the two of you were through that front door, your lips were plush against his and you rushed to undo his belt. chan was first to break the kiss, breathing heavily before speaking. "come on pretty baby, i know how badly you needed me".
54 notes · View notes
serxinns · 10 months ago
Text
Valentines Day
Platonic Yandere class 1a and Aizawa
Reader is female in this
Just a little cute drabble I made!
Requested by @roxanndrummond
Tumblr media
• Valentine's Day was here and it surely affected your school cause when you walked in you saw a bunch of decorations everywhere little angels pictures of shooting hearts on the hallways doves origami hanging on top of the ceiling kissing and etc
•"Happy Valentine's name!" midoriya said as he hugged you tightly "You too! Izuku wants to walk to class?" you offered a hand to him "Sure!!" he took your hand while the 2 of you happily chatted making way to class
•When you arrived at your class you were greeted by your classmates Some were happy valentines some were complimenting you and some even gave you a warm and wave when you passed them and made it to their seats when Aizawa arrived
• At Class someone tapped on your shoulder and it was Tsuyu she digged in her bag and gave you a frog style bag you looked in the bag and see that there was a cute little frog plushie and it was strawberry scented you thanked Tusyu and gave her your gift which was a Hello Kitty Plushie and a Frog necklace She thx you back with a Kero
•Aizawa noticed this and told you to meet him right after school which you got nervous a bit
•At the change you were surprised when all the girls said Happy Valentine day valentines times Day and gives you a different gifts
• Momo gave you a Gold block, you gave her a cute bracelet in return
• Ochsko gifted you some homemade frosted cookies, you gifted her with a cute scarf and a Kirby plushie
• Hakagure gifted you a shirt that is now yours fav you gifted her back Some cute earrings and a new purse
• Jirou gifted you Kuromi-themed headphones while you fited her a my melody guitar
• Mina gifted you a new phone case while you gifted her a pink Leopard print Jacket
• You all loved your gifted and did a group hug while training
• After training the boys gave you their gifts and you gift them their gifts as well (im too lazy to write what they gave you So it's up to your imagination)
•After class you met with Aizawa Since you got in trouble but were surprised when he hugged you and ruffled your head saying "Happy valentines Day kid" and gifted you a Mini sleeping bag of your own while you gifted him a 1# dad cup less to say he's keeping that
64 notes · View notes
ladylooch · 7 months ago
Text
How Country Feels - [Mack X David]
Tumblr media
A/N: I am so excited to bring this to you today for many reasons. First of all, it’s Mack and David in Iowa. So we know it’s smutty and adorable. BUT! Mostly I am excited to give this as a gift to my bestest bestie @casualhilarity. You graduated!!!!! From your really tough 6 week training program and I am so so so so so so proud of you! There was never a doubt that you would be successful in this adventure. This step is just the beginning for you. I cannot wait to see what is next! In the meantime, please enjoy our thoughts on Iowa coming to life in the longest post I have ever made on Tumblr 🥹💜
Word count: 8.2k
Warnings: mentions of death, cancer, grief, smut (18+ content)
Tumblr media
10,000 feet above Des Moines, Iowa, Mackenzie Hischier looks out the window as her plane begins to descend from her connecting flight from LAX. She has been flying across the world for almost 18 hours trying to get here. Queenstown, New Zealand was home for her the past three weeks. Her internal clock is all sorts of fucked up from the massive time swing she is going through, but she was able to sleep in sync with the Central Time Zone on her first flight. She is hopeful that will curb some of her jet lag. 
The landscape below is much different from the crystal blue water and rigid mountain peaks she came from. Instead, it is flat and vast, various different shades of greens and brows. It’s also windy. She scrunches her nose as the plane swings a bit to the left before continuing on at a smoother pace. There is not much out here to block the wind, but thousands of windmills dot the prairie below them to capture the best energy source nature can give this area. Mack has never been to Iowa, or the Midwest outside of Chicago, which doesn’t feel or look anything like what she is seeing. 
Shortly after landing, Mack walks out of the secure area, heading down to baggage claim 2. As she gets closer to the carousal, she sees a tall man with a thick black mustache, blue jeans, and a plain white t-shirt stretched across his broad chest. His hands are stuffed in his pockets as he leans against the wall by baggage claim 2, boot clad feet crossed over at the ankles. A worn, NYR baseball cap is on his head, hiding his green eyes that are devouring her even as they hide in the shadow of the bill. Mack can see the toothpick in his mouth as she gets closer. He pushes off from the wall, starting to walk towards her. Never in her life did she think she would do this, but her pace quickens and she hustles her ass across that tiled floor to be picked up by him.
“Hi!” She exclaims as she throws herself at him. He catches her easily, hauling her up his chest, both big hands clutching her ass.
“Hi honey.” He grins up at her. Mack licks her lips, then puts them on his. He squeezes her tighter into their kiss. “Mmm, missed that. Missed you.” He lets her slide down his body, Vans hitting the tile again. “Thought it was winter in New Zealand. How are you so tan?”
“There was so much sun! We got lucky pretty much the whole trip.” This trip was with two of her colleagues because it is a big feature with the magazine. Mack is grateful they had a photographer so she could focus more on the stories of the locals and less about getting the perfect shot for print.
“Good. Glad it worked out for you, baby.” He says, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You tired?”
“Um, yeah. Don’t let me fall asleep.” She mumbles into his side.
“I won’t. You’re in Iowa now. We gotta work when we get back to the farm.” Mack’s eyes widen. She looks up at him with concern. David starts to laugh.
“I’m kidding. Work is done for the day.” 
“But tomorrow?”
“It begins all over again. Gotta feed the cows, let the chickens roam, check fence, and a thousand other tasks.”
“Hard working boy.”
“Yeah.” He grins proudly. The beeping of the baggage claim alerts them before the metal begin to turn. David sees Mack’s bag and steps forward, easily hauling it off. “Just this?” Mack nods. “Let’s go baby.” He holds a hand out for her to take. She laces their fingers together, surprised at how rough his hands feel. Her gaze travels up his arm to his bicep, noting it is rock hard and bulging even without flexing.
“How long of a drive is it?” She asks after they are tucked into David’s big, black truck. He whips it fast and easy out of the parking spot, then roars the diesel engine out of the parking ramp. 
“Ah, about an hour.” He tells her, sliding his hand over to cup her thigh. She weaves her fingers through his. He squeezes them tight. “Plenty of time for you to tell me everything about your trip.” Mack smiles, adjusting herself in the passenger seat so she can look at him while she talks. She loves talking to David. As great as everything else is with him, he is a great listener and always asks the best, most insightful questions about her work. She could talk to him for hours. When she is done, she switches the topic of conversation to him.
“Tell me about the farm. What can I expect?”
“Um,” He chuckles, nudging his hat up off his forehead to scratch an itch. “Well, it’s pretty quiet out there. We are about 15 minutes south of the town closest to us. It has been hot this summer, so I hope you got some summer clothes in there.” Mack does. She packed as accordingly as she could. “Hours are long. I’ll be up before you and come back around dinner time.”
“Oh, I thought you have staff?” Mack questions.
“I do, but someone needs to manage them.” David says. “My farm manager is off on vacation right now. Usually takes the whole month of August off and leaves it to me before he is back to managing it on his own when I head East.” 
“Oooo, you’re the boss.” Mack giggles.
“Yeah of the farm and you.” He quips. Mack rolls her eyes. He is not the boss of her, but he can keep pretending he is.
“Am I gonna see you while I’m here?” She jokes. David licks his lips and nods.
“Yeah, I’ll be able to step away. I have some things planned for us too. Figure I could take you back up to the state fair next week. Get you something on a stick.” Mack gives him a weird look. “You ever been to a state fair? County fair? Nothing?” Mack shakes her head no to both. “Holy shit.” He chuckles.
“At least I don’t think we did when we lived in Jersey. I don’t know that was a long time ago.”
“A fair is where you eat fried food, mostly on a stick, and play games to win prizes, drinks some beer or other frozen drinks to stay cool. Farmers and 4H kids bring their animals to the fair to be judged.”
“What is 4H?” Mack wrinkles her nose in confusion. David looks slack jawed at her. 
“Oh baby. It’s gonna be a whole different world here for you.” He laughs like it’s cute to him.  
Mack feels the first itch of apprehension tickle her spine.
She has been all over the world, but she may be completely out of her league here. 
- - -
The moment Mack steps out of David’s truck in the parking lot of the local watering hole, she can hear the consistent beat of the country song thumping in the tiny bar. David says its a bar, but to Mack it honestly looks like a shack she would avoid if she was alone. After getting a tour of the farm earlier, David informed Mack they were going to be meeting his friends for drinks. He has been talking her up all summer and they’re all eager to get a glimpse of this mystery woman who has stolen David’s heart.
Mack purses her lips for a moment, then looks down at her outfit. She is dressed in a flowing black, long sleeved top from Dior and Black frayed shorts from a boutique in Paris, paired with a Gucci belt. On her feet are black and white Nike Air Force ones. She has on various expensive, designer jewelry and a Prada cross-body bag her mom and dad got her for her last birthday. David had told her she looked good for where he was taking her. She feels very, very overdressed, like even her silk pajamas would be too fancy for this place.
“David.” Mack mumbles when she meets him at the back of the truck. He grabs her hand in his.
“What?” He asks. He is in dark jeans with a blue and white, light weight flannel. His sleeves are rolled up his forearms, exposing his tattoos and the tan skin from a summer of hard work. He took a shower and styled his hair perfectly with a crisp part and a perfect swoop.
“I am so overdressed.”
“What do you mean?” He asks. “You look great?” Mack doesn’t know how to tell him that she is pretty sure her outfit costs more than this bar does. “Don’t worry about it. You’re beautiful and sexy and you’re walking in on my arm. No one is going to mess with you.” Mack snorts and then starts to laugh.
“I wasn’t thinking that, but I’m trying to make a good impression.”
“Babe, they are going to love you. Trust me.”
Within an hour, Mack senses that isn’t going to be the case. 
She can feel the judgement. Detect the way it crawls over her body from his friends. The looks of “not one of us” and the whispers between the girls. She has been talked about enough behind her back throughout life to know when it’s happening right in front of her face. It started when she tried to order a Paloma. The bartender had looked at her like she grew a second head. She glances at David nervously.
“Curley, it’s tequila, grapefruit juice and lime. You got all that shit behind the bar.” David gestures to the wall of liquor. 
“You wanna come make it, David?” Curley asks.
“Fuck. Sure.” David shrugs, going behind the bar and showing Curley how to put the drink together. “You think you got that for next time?” Curley did not look like he had it for next time, so Mack switches to tequila and soda instead. 
The conversation around her has centered on all things farm and rural life. What so and so is up to now. Who had a baby. Who just got divorced. Who was cheating on who. It all seemed very juvenile and uninteresting to Mack. David stayed out of it for the most part, listening along with Mack until his friends, Cody and Trevor, started talking Iowa Hawkeye football. Then she lost him to that.
Mack fingers the cocktail napkin that is soaked with condensation below her glass. It’s times like these where Mack feels so out of place in a country she is a citizen off. She knows this isn’t a full, direct correlation of America, but how can she be more out of place here than when she was in Tokyo last year? Or she can get down and dirty in the rice fields of Thailand and feel more connection with locals who don’t speak the same language than she can in the center of the country she was born in.
David’s lips on her temple break her internal discourse. Mack smiles at him. He rubs her shoulder as if to ask “you good?” She nods at him, smiling reassuringly. 
Dun, nu, nu sounds through the bar speakers, then the whole group slaps their hands on the table. “Woo!” They yell. Then Dun, Nu, Nu. Slap, “Woo!” The whole table erupts excitedly, as a man begins to drawl over the sound system. The table turns to look at David, screaming out the next lyrics, “You were raised on an asphalt farm!” Mack blinks, feeling lost. David tips his head back, laughing loudly.
“Davey! It’s your song!” A girl who Mack can’t remember her name, screams then chugs more of her Miller Lite. 
“Get up and swing your asphalt girl around.” Mack’s eyes widen. David chuckles, tapping her thigh assuringly. 
“No, we are good.” David knows Mack would rather be a metal sign on the wall of the bar than get up when no one else is dancing. Being on display is not her thing. She is grateful for that until she sees the sneering glares of the two women at the end of the table.
“Oh, she’s too good for dancing too.” Mack faintly hears.
Mack looks at David. She can tell he didn’t hear what she heard. Not surprising with how loud his other male friends are signing along to the country song. Mack looks down at the girls, noticing how they avoid direct eye contact with her. The blonde one puts her hand up to her mouth, whispering in the red head’s ear. Then they both giggle. 
“No, let’s dance.” Mack suddenly says to David. She isn’t going to let two, small town, hick bitches intimidate her. 
“What?” He responds, surprised. 
“Yeah, show me what you got cowboy.” She jokes as she stands.
The entire table sucks in a huge, deep breath.
“Oooooooo, she is in trouble.” One of the boys mumbles. David gives her a sympathetic smile.
“We aren’t cowboys, honey. We are farmers.”
“What is the difference?” Mack scoffs, laughing, thinking he is pulling her leg. David winces slightly at the large yelp of the table behind him, then grabs Mack, pushing her towards the center of the bar.
“I’ll show you later.” He chuckles, kissing her mouth. 
“Did I say something wrong?”
“Ah, no. They’re just sensitive. Don’t quite understand how other people are outside of these state lines.” Mack gets quiet, retreating into herself again. David practically drags her around in a circle because she is shutting down internally. “Hey…” He trails off. “This is all new to you. It’s okay.” 
“They don’t like me.” She looks at the center of his chest as she says it, not wanting to see the confirmation on his face.
“Nah, they just don’t know you, sweetheart. A lot of layers to your onion.” David can twist it any which way that he wants, but they both know Mack is right. They don’t like her… right now at least.
When Mack and David head back to the table after their dance, the mood at the table has seemed to shift. Now, they all ignore her. 
“How is the herd looking, Trent?” David asks the guy across from Mack. David’s hand is around her shoulder, rolling his fingers in a circle over the thin material of her shirt.
“Should be a good year.” Trent says. “We really need it. Been hurting the last few.”
“Yeah, we all have.” David nods. “Weather has been shit. Can’t out work that.”
“We can sure fucking try tho.” Trent grins, then clinks beer bottles with him. David brings his over to clink with Mack’s glass. She does so. Trent sucks at his teeth, making a slight slurping noise after swallowing more beer. 
“Mack, where did you grow up?”
“In New Jersey before we moved back to where my dad is from in Switzerland.” He nods.
“You have a job growing up or anything?” David cocks his head to the side at Trent. “I’m just trynna find something to relate to her with.” He justifies.
“Um, no. My parents wanted us to focus on school.” Trent sighs like he is disappointed. 
"Must be nice to have a daddy who was able to give you anything you wanted. Didn’t have to work your way through high school to make ends meet.” 
“Trent, knock it off.” David snaps. “Mack knows what hard work is.”
“Does she? Cause the rest of us aren’t thinking she does.”
“Hey, don’t speak for all of us.” Cody snaps. “Drink your beer and shut up.”
“I’m just thinking that it must be nice to have an NHL daddy who can call in a favor to get you a job where you barely have to work as an adult too.” David stands up, chair knocking back to the floor. He reaches across the table to grab Trent, hauling him up to a standing position. 
“Apologize, right now, and I won’t smear you into the wood floor your daddy installed.” 
“I-I-I’m sorry. I think I’m drunk.”
“No shit.” David sneers, shoving Trent back into his chair. The rest of the table goes ghostly silent. Other bar patrons look over their shoulders at the group. Mack is flaming red over the embarrassment of the words thrown her direction and David’s intense reaction. She is equally mortified and turned on.
“I’m going to go to the bathroom.” Mack whispers as David kisses her cheek in reassurance. David gives her a sympathetic look, apologetic eyes watching her as she heads to the back of the bar. 
Mack goes into the first stall, leaning her back into the tiled wall and covering her face. She sucks in deep breaths, trying not to cry. This night could not get any worse. She wants to leave so bad, but she has never been one to back down from a fight. She isn’t going to start now. She doesn’t want them having the satisfaction of seeing her rattled and vulnerable. No, she’ll throw her walls up and fake charm the pants off them. But first, she is going to grab some fresh air.
She heads through the double wood doors, walking down the parking lot, away from the posse of smokers out front. Her arms are crossed over her chest tightly trying to fight off the chill. She doesn’t understand how it can be so hot in the afternoon, but cool down in the evening. Another thing about Iowa she just “can’t understand”. Tears sting her eyes a bit. She feels dumb. Why is this bothering her so much? That guy is a douche. She knows who she is. She shakes off his words, running her fingers through her hair. Mack knows its because she wants to belong here with David. And from her perspective, so far this trip has been less than successful.
A large jacket comes around her shoulders. She looks to her right, seeing David. His eyes are boring into her, studying her face.
"Looking at the stars?" He asks her.
"Mhm." She looks up at the millions of little dots. Now this reminds her of being in the Swiss Mountains. The same sort of inky, black sky dotted with delicate twinkles. He runs his fingers along her shoulder, resting on the back of her neck. He guides her into his side.
"Talk to me, Hisch." 
"I guess I don't have much in common with this version of you.” Her European accent drips into her voice. She is surprised to hear that. It only comes out when she is feeling emotional, creating difficulty keeping a Western dialect. David grabs the opening of his jacket on her, tugging so she turns completely towards him. He steps forward, crowding her space. He brings a big paw to her chin, tilting her face up to his.
“What version?” He asks, laughing it off. “Baby, I am who I am. No matter where I am.” He brushes her hair back behind her ear. “And you’re everything I’ve dreamed of.” Mack can see how much he means it. It’s in his touch on her cheek, in his gaze stroking along hers, in the sureness of his voice. She nods. He captures her lips. The kiss is soft, sweet sucks and gentle nudging of his tongue against her bottom lip. His other hand winds around her waist, pressing into her lower back to keep her tight to him.
David says the right things, but that kiss says more to Mack than his words ever could.
His lips on hers erase it all- the insecurity, the doubt, the not belonging, the not good enough.
He grounds her because he knows what she needs immediately, sometimes before she even knows. But tonight, it is his physical reassurance soothing her more than anything. He towers over her, shielding her from everything with his muscular body, and consumes her in a way that feels safe not smothering. 
"Just say the word and I'll go back in there to straighten Trent out." Truthfully, having him storm back in there would be so fucking hot. She would get to watch him teach Trent a lesson and get all hot and bothered between her thighs. 
“What is the other option?” She murmurs.
“I take you home. We can spend the rest of the night by ourselves.”
Mack contemplates what home entails. She wants him to hold her hand in his dark truck the whole way home. She craves for him to undress her slowly in that small house. His boots hitting the floor at the foot of the bed while he urges her to lay back so he can take his time undressing her. She needs his rough, calloused hands on her soft hips as he pulls her panties down her legs. Then she wants him soft and slow, gently thrusting deep into her in a missionary position as he irritates her lips with his mustache.
And that’s exactly what Mack gets. 
“You look so good for me, honey. So wet and soft and perfect. Take me so well.” He praises her from where he holds his weight above her. His hot breath dances over her face, coated in light beer and her from his previous perch between her thighs. Mack is blissed out, drunk on him and the stroking of him against the walls of her pussy. 
“David.” She sighs, collecting him to her chest. He presses his to hers and then rolls his tongue into her mouth. He gathers her moans, sucking them up greedily so they are only his tonight. He fucks her deeper, harder, perfect bucks into her wet heat. “Fuck you’re so good. So fucking good.” She cries.
“Yeah? Best?”
“Yeah!” She yells.
“Say my name, sweetheart. Say who makes you feel this good.”
“You! David!” She howls.
“Good girl. My girl.” He groans. Mack’s inner walls clench him, pulling him deeper with each flutter of her getting closer and closer to the edge. Her heels dig into his butt, forcing him to stay right fucking there. She turns her face into his neck, sinking her teeth into him as she comes. 
Afterwards, David plays with her fingers as she lays on his sweaty chest. He kisses her forehead, inhaling the scent of her deeply. He keeps his face there afterwards, as Mack starts to go limp in his arms. Her eyelashes brush gently against his warm skin. He shifts her hips a bit, turning to the side so she can lay more comfortable in the crook of his arm.
“Goodnight, honey.” He whispers on her forehead. Then kisses her a final time before leaving her to her slumber. 
- - -
Two weeks into her trip, Mack is still having some trouble adjusting to Iowa. Every thing is completely different here. The grocery store, the little town he took her into, the restaurant options and drinks, even the air is different! It’s laced with manure and dust, making her nose plugged up so she constantly has to drainage. Her eyes had been almost swollen shut every morning of that first week.
“Do you have allergies?” David had asked her. Mack didn’t think so, but she’s also never been to a place quite like this. After a few days of Zyrtec, Mack can finally breathe through both nostrils.
In celebration, and because she is admittedly very bored, she gets into the shower. It’s the only thing in the farm house that is modern. David likes to take long showers after working in the field all day to get clean and relax. He’ll bring a can of Coors Light in with him and have some alone time. Mack thinks is is adorable, getting to see his self-care routine in Iowa. He doesn’t do this after games in NYC, but she thinks that might be because his adrenaline is usually still roaring after hockey. His favorite post-game routing has seemingly been sex. 
After getting clean and putting on some light make up, along with a sundress, Mack got to work putting together a meal for them. She opted for easily transported items like chips, sandwiches, and cut up fruit. Then she made some lemonade from the cup of lemonade mix she found in the pantry. David loves Lemonade down here. She is starting to enjoy it too. This time she puts fresh strawberries in for a little extra sweetness. 
Mack glances out the front window to where two farm hands are working. She puts her feet in the cowboy boots David got her at the boot store in town when she first got here. They are more broken in now and are no longer hurting her feet, so she feels comfortable wearing them for today’s excursion. Then she grabs the basket and steps outside. 
Mack covers her eyes with her hand, looking out at the vastness of the farm. David took her on a tour her second day here, but she doesn’t remember anything. She worries about getting lost out there. She double checks that she has her phone. At least she seems to have good service here. 
“Um, hi.” Mack says nervously as she walks up to the two farm hands by the barn.
“Hi Mackenzie.” They greet her happily. Something about being the boss’ girlfriend she is sure.
“Mack is fine. Um, do you know where I can find David?” She holds up the basket with their lunch. “I want to bring him lunch.”
“Oh, he is in the far back 40 on the edge of the farm property.” One of them says. 
“Okay. And I can get there with that?” She points to the small utility vehicle they whip around on the front of the farm. 
“Yeah….” They trial off, giving each other a look. “Do you know how to get there?”
“I know everything branches off from this road, she points to the left. But after that I am a little lost.”
“I can take you.” The older one, who seems to be more in charge says. “We can take the truck.” Mack nods. “I can put that in the bed for ya.” He hoists it over into the truck bed, then they both get into the cab. 
“What is your name?” She asks once they start down the dirt road. Rocks kick up against the mud flaps and the underbelly of the truck, making her have to yell a bit over to him.
“Felix.”
“Nice to meet you.” She smiles politely. “Thank you for taking me.”
“Of course. Mr. David says you are our special guest. Can’t let you get lost out here.” Mack blushes, biting her bottom lip. 
“Oh I don’t know about that. How long have you worked on the farm?”
“About 25 years. I worked for Mr. Chuck before Mr. David.” Mack knows Chuck is David’s dad. She doesn’t ask, but wonders if he was there when Chuck passed away on the farm.
“That is nice. You must like it here?”
“Yes, they are fair to their workers and their families. Last year, my wife had cancer. The treatment was expensive. We had to travel up to Mayo Clinic in Minnesota. But Mr. David paid for the whole thing and kept my job. My wife has now been in remission for five months.” Felix does the sign of a cross then kisses his lips in praise. 
“Wow.” Mack murmurs. David never told her that.
“He is special. Nothing like his siblings.” Felix’s face seems to cloud over. “We are happy he bought them out of the farm.” Another thing Mack wasn’t aware of. “He has made changes, some hard to learn at first, but all have been good. For us and him. More money and security. People on other farms around here want to work for him the most.” Pride swells in Mack’s chest at hearing that.
Felix turns to the right, heading away from the road and out for a few minutes. They come over a hill, down into a valley where Mack see’s David’s black truck. She frowns, realizing he is out here working alone.
“Is he always out here alone?” She wonders.
“No, just today.” He says. “It’s a hard day for him.” Mack furrows her brows, but nods along. He didn’t say anything before they left. He seemed normal too. The truck comes to a slowed stop. David is working along the fence line. He wipes his forehead with his forearm, looking up at the truck. He sees Felix, then grins huge when he sees Mack.
“Felix! Look at you bringing me pretty little things after busting me for that in high school.” Felix roars with laughter, his big chest shaking as he leans out the rolled down window. 
“This one seems a little less crazy.”
“Eh, you don’t know her like I do.” David winks. He tosses his tools into the cab of his truck. “Stay there, honey.” He says to her. Mack stays put, letting David come to her door. He opens it up, then gives her his hand to help pull her down safely from the high farm truck. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I brought lunch to you.” 
“Oh?” He wiggles his eyebrows, then drags his gaze along her body in her blue, linen sundress. 
“Actual food.” She fills him in. He quips a smirk at her, then leans down to kiss her. 
“Basket in the back, sir.” Felix says.
“How many times do I have to say not to call me that?” David rolls his eyes.
“How many times I gotta tell you it’s about respect?” Felix quips back. Mack smiles. She likes Felix a lot. She can see herself getting to know him more over the next few weeks. 
“Fine. Hey, when you get back up can you tell Becks to get to the N.E. pasture and start working some of the cows into N.D. pasture instead? I don’t think I’m going to get to that today.”
“You bet. I’ll have Reed go with him too. That kid needs to get the hell off my project.”
“He’s a little wild.” David acknowledges. “That’s why he is with you.” David reminds Felix who sighs heavily. “Look what you did with me.” He grins. 
Felix waves and drives off back to the barn after David hauls the picnic basket out of the back. 
“I brought a blanket too.” Mack pulls it out of her bag that she had slung across her shoulder. David drops the tailgate of his truck, then lays the blanket along the back.
“That’s good otherwise your thighs would be burning in that short dress.”
“Is it short?”
“Honey, you know it is.” He slaps her ass to prove his point, getting some of her bare cheek against his palm. Mack leans forward, feeling the fabric slide further up her thighs as she digs in the picnic basket. David runs his fingers up from her knee to cup her ass. He reaches for her arm, pulling her away from the food. “Want something else first.” He sighs against her mouth.
“What if someone comes to find you?” She weakly protests. She had this in mind for lunch too.
“They’ll call me.” He murmurs against her mouth. “Trust me, I don’t want any of my guys seeing you, honey. I wouldn’t take the chance if I didn’t think it was safe.” Mack nods, believing him completely.
He wraps an arm around her waist, pinning her tight to him. His hard cock protrudes from beneath his zipper, pulsing for Mack to touch. Her fingers, clutch the back of his neck, feeling his skin sweaty and hot beneath her fingers. He smells sexy like sweat and deodorant that works just as hard as her man. It’s hot, sexy as fuck, to the point that Mack wraps her leg around his waist to grind against him.
David moves his mouth from hers and presses kisses along her throat. He sucks her skin hard into his mouth at the nook of her neck and shoulder, then continues down. Mack arches back, letting her head fall back so he can access her chest completely. His lips continue their path over the swell of her left breast, then he nudges the fabric to the side. Her nipple pebbles in the sunlight, pink and beautiful, just for him. He opens his lips, pulling it in. His tongue strokes over her sensitive peak, then creates a wet trail to the other one, grabbing it between his lips. He lets that one go with a final slurp, then goes back to kiss her mouth. 
“Mmm.” Mack hums. Her fingers go to his belt, working it apart. She pulls his hard length out of his jeans and underwear, stroking along his shaft, feeling the velvet skin tight in her hand. She works her fingers up to his head, stroking until his slit releases pre-cum. 
“Fuck.” He groans, breaking away from their kiss. David turns Mack, lifting her dress up over her ass and pulling her bare skin back to his. He works his cock between her ass, savoring how she grinds her cheeks against him while he holds her tight by her stomach. He kisses her shoulder, tasting her warm, vanilla skin. 
“Bend over.” He growls before she reaches between their bodies and holds his balls, stealing his breath. She rolls them over in her hand as she lays forward obediently. Her right cheek presses into the blanket she brought. David moves her dress up, pulling her thong underwear down for her ankles to hold. David strokes his cock as he puts two fingers at Mack’s entrance, testing her. She is soaked, almost dripping down those soft thighs for him. He curses again, then plunges into her welcoming heat.
Mack’s arms stretch above her head, gripping the blanket in her palms. Her hard nipples stroke against the ridges of the truck bed with each direct thrust of him into her. David works his hands off her hips to the front of her thighs, keeping his hands there to protect her from the lip of the tailgate. His lips kiss her spine, then he get into position to fuck her hard and fast just like she begs for. The truck suspension squeaks from his powerful pumps.
“So good.” Mack calls back. She opens her eyes, taking in the surrounding Iowa wilderness, grinning at how sexy it is to be fucked by this man right here. Maybe she could be a country girl after all. She giggles.
“What?” He asks her.
“Maybe I am a country girl.” 
“By the time I’m done with you, you will be.” He laughs, slapping her ass with his abdomen with each drill of his cock into her. 
“Oh.” She groans, felling like a completely, coming undone mess at what he is doing with her. His unhooked belt slaps the outside of her thigh as it swings. She moves one hand from above her head, bringing it to her clit to roll it in rapid circles. “David…” She moans loudly, letting her voice go, carrying out across the field.
“Mmm, yeah. Let the world hear you baby. Let everyone know who’s pussy this belongs to.” He brings a hand under her stomach, arching her lower back and hips up so he can drive at a different angle. Mack’s eyes roll into the back of her head, almost securing to her brain at how incredible his cock feels pressing into her velvet circle. 
“Right there. David, please don’t stop. Never stop.” Mack wails. 
“Not until you coat this cock, sweetheart.” He assures her. “This what you wanted, huh? Made your man a little meal so he would stuff you full of his thick cock?”
“Yeah!” Mack admits shamelessly. “Ohmyg-“ Mack chokes on the last word as the intensity of her orgasm rips the breath from her lungs. 
“Oh fuck. Baby, yes.” He moans, losing control at the hard flutters of her around him. “So fucking good, baby. Perfect for me.” His hoarse voice coos at her as he paints ropes of cum on her walls.
Their heavy breathing makes them hot, sweat beginning to bead along their spines as they lay limply against each other on the truck bed. Then, David straightens up, gliding himself out of Mack gently. She whimpers at the emptiness, wishing he would stay there for a little longer. He delicately drops her dress back over her butt after bringing her panties up into place. She turns, leaning on the tailgate as her legs shake. David tucks himself back into his pants, buckling his belt before focusing back on her. He grips her chin with his thumb and pointer finger, giving her a soft, wet kiss. 
“You are amazing.” He sighs. Mack grins into their kiss.
“You too. Never felt like this.” She whispers, holding him by the back of his neck against her forehead. Never thought she would admit things like this to someone either. But as per usually, David is scratching out all of her rules and rewriting new ones, like spending weeks in America’s heartland and turning down jobs from her editor.
“I’m starving. What did you bring us?” David asks, picking her up and setting her on the tailgate behind her so she can reach the picnic basket. She brought them turkey sandwiches with fresh lettuce, tomatoes, and homemade pesto mayo she put together yesterday afternoon. All the flavors have marinated deliciously together, creating a flavor bomb in her mouth. 
“Holy shit. This is amazing. Thank you!” His genuine appreciation makes Mack’s chest warm. She smiles coyly, with her mouth full of food. He leans down to kiss her. Mack gently chews the rest of her bite, looking over at David who is devouring his sandwich is two more huge bites. She chuckles, then licks her lips before speaking.
“So Felix said today is a hard day for you?” Everything about David’s demeanor changes like a snap. His face darkens. He begins to fidget next to her, slightly pulling away as his body gets rigid. He sniffs, then takes a big glug of lemonade from the mason jar. 
“Yeah.” Mack hesitates, remaining quiet while watching him stuff some chips in his mouth. Then she puts her sandwich down on the plate next to her, turning to sit facing him. She puts her hand on his thigh, continuing to stay quiet until David sighs heavily. “My mom died ten years ago today.” Mack stills, then rolls her bottom lip into her mouth. 
“I’m so sorry.” David nods, clearing his throat.
“This date every year I come out here and fix fence and talk to her. Tell her about what I’ve been up to the last year. Cry a little bit. Then go clean off her and dad’s grave and put some fresh flowers down from her rose garden by the house.”
“That sounds like a nice way to honor her.” Mack murmurs, moving her hand from his thigh to his hand, lacing their fingers together. He brings the back of her hand up to his mouth, kissing along her knuckles.
“It is. Unfortunately, I’ve had ten years to get the tradition perfect.” He sighs. “Every year on this date though, it feels like it just happened.” Mack can imagine so. “Sucks.” He sniffs again. Mack rubs her thumb along the tendons of his hand.
“Will you tell me about her?”
“She was hilarious. Spunky as shit. Had to be with how crazy my siblings and I were in our younger days. We used to pretend to be super heroes and jump off the barn into the hay. It was all fun and games unless you were a bit off…. Or got pushed off like me.” Mack’s eyes widen. “But my mom was always watching out the window and would rip my brothers a new asshole anytime they were picking on me. She was strong and full of joy. She loved working in her garden. A few of the plants have died off over the years cause of deep freezes, but most of those rose bushes are hers. I hire Felix’s wife to tend to them in the summer so they’re always taken care of. Mom would have wanted that, since she isn’t here to do it…” 
Mack squeezes his hand then brings her other hand up to run over his back. She rests her mouth on his bicep, continuing to listen while holding him. 
“I think that’s why it was so hard when she got sick.” His voices starts to get tight. Tears pinch Mack’s eyes. “That… but also she has missed so much. She didn’t get to see me graduate from high school or college. Didn’t see me get drafted or my first game in the NHL. At least my dad was there for those, but it wasn’t the same. He didn’t have the words like she would have when I struggled to stay up in the NHL those first few years or the way he rode my ass when I was home every summer to be a better farmer.” David shakes his head. 
“It’s like every year something happens that I’m sad she isn’t here for. This year, I’m sad she doesn’t get to know you.” Mack’s bottom lip shakes as two tears go down her cheeks. He turns his lips into her hair, then continues to talk against her head. “She would have loved you- strong, independent, sassy, and so pretty you could bring even the most stubborn man to his knees.” Mack smiles, cupping his cheek to hold him against her. “Those dimples… baby.” He sighs, “They get me every time.” 
“I hope she still likes me now… even from wherever she is watching over you.”
“I think so.” He smiles. 
“Could I go with you to their resting place?”
“Yes, of course you can. I just gotta check the rest of this fence and then we can go.”
“Thank you for telling me. I didn’t know…”
“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t like talking about it. Probably why Felix told you.” Mack nods, understanding that Felix was looking out for David too when he told Mack about today on the drive down. 
Mack and David finished their lunches and she helps him check fence. She walked the line with him and pointed out normal fence she thought looked bad and he taught her about what to look for instead. When they were done, they loaded up into David’s truck, then drove back towards the house.
The house is coming into view when David peels off to the right and drives to an open, unassuming field. There is no fencing, just in ground stones that mark the Carlson members that are buried on the farm. David grabs a bucket full of cleaning supplies. He gives Mack the flowers he picked earlier that had been resting in a bucket of water, then takes her hand to walk over to his parents' graves. 
Mack begins to cry immediately, feeling so overwhelmed with sadness for David. And his parents. For everything they have missed. For the people she will never know. For all the moments that David will never get to have with them and how fucking cruel it is that he has to go through that for the rest of his life. All those happy days will have a shade of grey because of who is missing. It’s not fair. She wants to change that for him, ease some of that, but instead, all she can really do is cry sympathetically. 
When they get to his father, Charles E. Carlson’s headstone, David drops her hand and puts his work gloves on. He uses his tools to cut away the over grown grass and weeds. Then he grabs the soapy water and rags to clean the dirty away from the head stone. Mack kneels off to the side, by his mother’s stone, watching quietly, sensing her help is not wanted. This seems methodical and therapeutic to David.
He rests his butt on his heels while he looks down. He presses his palm on his dad’s name, then works his way to his mom’s and does the same thing. This time, wet tear drops fall from his eyes onto the dusty stone as he cleans the grime off. Mack swallows hard, new tears of her own falling down. David puts his left hand on his mother’s name, Beatrice. Mack reaches out, putting hers on top of his. David opens his right arm for her to slide into his side. Then he holds her close.
Mack doesn’t know, but while he holds her tight, David is telling his mom, where ever she is resting, that the girl in his arms is the one.
- - -
Mack can’t believe it is her second to last night here.
As different as it all was when she first got here a month ago, her and David have settled into a nice routine. Every morning starts early, with a romp in the sheets. Sometimes fast, sometimes slow, always incredible though. After that, Mack wanders down the hall in his shirt to make him coffee and some eggs to wolf down fast after his shower. She sits with him at the table as he tells her all the different chores he has for the day. She asks questions. He patiently answers. 
Then, after a long smooch with wandering calloused hands, he heads out to the field. Mack will meet him for lunch, or if it’s too hot, he comes into the kitchen to take a break in the air conditioning. They spend 10 minutes of his hour long lunch eating and the other 50 devouring each other. On the tail gate, on the kitchen table, on the floor, on the couch- wherever they can make it to before their clothes start falling off their frames.
David will return back to his chores, then come home around dinner time. Him and Mack trade off making dinner. He likes to grill for her as she tries different self- prepared marinades with fresh produce from the farm’s garden. Then they end the night watching the sunset on the front porch, which is where they are right now.
The porch swing sways gently from David’s light rocking. A calm, cooling breeze blows through the wrap around porch that hugs the white farmhouse his family built generations ago. Mack thinks about her flight in two days that is supposed to connect her with Newark before she will turn around in 24 hours to head towards Aruba. Dread pinches her stomach uncomfortably. She has started to fall in love with this place and all of it’s differences that she hated 4 weeks ago. David is staying here for two more weeks. He will be returning to New York a few days after she gets home from Aruba.
Mack looks down at his forearm across her stomach. Her fingers tips drag along his tanned skin, watching the goosebumps form on him from her touch. An emotional sigh falls from her lips. His lips touch her hair in recognition, fingers pressing deeper into her side.
“You okay?” 
“I don’t want to leave.” She confesses. He moves so her back falls across his lap. His other arm catches her head in the cook of his elbow. “Wanna stay here with you.” She whispers, reaching up for his face. 
“Baby, if you wanna stay you can, but if you need to go, that’s okay too. There is a whole life of yours outside of me.”
“I know. But it can wait until I’m ready to rejoin it.” David smiles down at her. His fingers run up from her stomach, along her left breast, to cup her cheek. Mack presses up to meet his lips. His hand tangles in her wild, country hair, gripping her tight to his mouth so he can taste her thoroughly. 
“You’re sure? I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay here.”
“I don’t.” She assures him, gripping his wrist where that hand still holds her face. His thumb rubs a track across her cheek bone, looking into her brown eyes. 
“Okay. Then stay. I want that.” He admits. “Was feeling really sad in the field this morning, thinking about driving you up to the airport.” Mack smiles, nodding in agreement. He pulls her up to kiss him again, then lets her head settle in his lap as she wiggles down. Her hair splays across his thigh as he works his finger prints gently into her scalp. Her eyes flutter, wanting to close and give into how good this feels. 
Mack loves the salty breeze off the ocean, the sand between her toes, and the way the pace of island life is unapologetically slow.
But not even that can compete with how good it feels here in David’s arms on his front porch swing.
More Mack & David can be found here.
33 notes · View notes
tgmsunmontue · 10 months ago
Text
It's all academic darlin' PART 7/10
PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6
FYI - Part 7 is Explicit. And nothing else makes sense without the first six parts but you do you!
Tumblr media
PART SEVEN
                After being in different uniforms for several months pulling on denim feels weird, but he doesn’t exactly want to wear a uniform. Plus Bradley probably doesn’t think that the uniform is sexy at all if he’s Mav’s kid. And he’s pretty sure, but there is still a tiny seed of doubt that he’s maybe somehow wrong. He follows the directions that Bradley has given him and enters the Faculty of Engineering building, stopping briefly to look at the photos of faculty members and there’s still that same fucking picture of the Moana rooster so at least he knows he’s in the right place. He’ll hopefully learn what the hell is up with that.
                He enters the little office and there’s two people sitting there working on computers, looking unimpressed with life in general and he doesn’t really want to interrupt them, but there is a bell that says to ring. He doesn’t actually need anything from them though, so he feels awkward, not sure whether he should just sit down or let them know he’s here to see someone.
                “Can I help you?” One of them asks, taking the decision out of his hands, and he smiles politely.
                “Sorry, I’m just here to meet with Professor Bradshaw?”
                “Is he expecting you?”
                “Yes ma’am, he directed me to come here.”
                “Okay. You’re welcome to take a seat and wait.”
                “I believe he’s in a lecture until three,” the other person adds.
                “Yes, he did tell me. It’s fine. I’m a little early. I’m happy to wait.”
                They go back to work, effectively ignoring him and he takes a seat, plays around on his phone, answers a couple of emails and then looks up when he hears approaching footsteps and someone humming.
                Bradley.
                His eyes travel up the heavy boots, dark jeans and that’s where the fashion sense ends because the man walking into the office is wearing a fucking awful bright printed shirt with roosters on it, sunglasses tucked into a white tank underneath and he’s grinning widely at Jake, hand reaching out and Jake just stares.
                And stares.
                He was right.
                Bradley Mitchell is Bradley Bradshaw.
                “Uh, are you okay?” Bradley asks, letting his hand drop when Jake fails to even stand up, let alone reach for his hand to return the gesture.
                “Bradley Bradshaw, as I live and breathe…”
                Bradley’s eyebrows go up but he’s smiling, eyes crinkling with amusement and Jake just can’t help smiling back. Pulls himself up out of the chair slowly, vacantly notes the forgotten little details. Bradley’s height. Breadth of shoulders. Little things he hadn’t really let himself pay attention to last time, and even now he’s wondering if he can control this sense of acceleration. It’s like free fall, but it’s carrying him forward rather than pulling him down.
                “Why people say they can hear you coming before they see you when you wear shirts like that is a mystery…”
                “Hey! One of my students got me this shirt!”
                “And yet you’re the one wearing it…” Bradley smirks then, and Jake can almost hear the reply, about how he’d let Jake take it off and he flushes. “Did you know who you were talking to?” Jake asks, watches Bradley shrug and look a little confused.
                “What do you mean did I know? Of course I knew, your email signature kind of gave it away.”
                Jake lets out a sharp laugh, because of fucking course Bradley knew the whole time. It makes perfect sense. They’re standing close, blocking the doorway now and he could just reach out with his fingers and touch the skin on Bradley’s forearm.
                “Wait, you thought I was someone different?”
                “I thought your name was Bradley Mitchell.”
                Bradley snorts a laugh, shakes his head and leans his body a little closer.
                “That was very heteronormative of you Lieutenant. And yet you didn’t seem surprised to see me…” Bradley says, and there is something speculative in his gaze.
                “Lieutenant Commander. And I mean, I kind of hoped…” He doesn’t want to mention that he only figured it out about a week ago, and while he was pretty damn sure he’d still needed to see him in person to confirm it.
                “Wait. You didn’t know in the beginning? And you got promoted?”
                “Uh. No. And Yes.” So much for not mentioning it.
                “What?”
                “No, I didn’t know who you were when we first started emailing back and forth, and yes I got promoted…”
                “Congratulations. I’m sure it was well deserved. So, how did you find the article?”
                “Mav gave it to me.”
                “Mav gave you the article?”
                “Yeah. Why?”
                “Of course he did… Fuck.”
                “Uh. Was that not okay?”
                “No. Just… he’s never going to let me live this down. He’s constantly trying to set me up with people…”
                “Oh thank fuck…”
                “What?”
                “Oh, I just… I was trying to figure out why the fuck he gave it to me in the first place. I wondered if it was something like that, because you’re very good at answering emails. But if Mav had told me to email you that would have been weird.”
                “So he just… gave you the article. And you…What? Emailed me out of the blue?”
                “Yep. Pretty sure Mav will take full credit.”
                “Yeah, of course he will. We could just… not tell him?” Bradley suggests, and the look on his face is mischievous and Jake doesn’t know about Bradley’s relationship with Mav other than that one phone call he heard months ago and what Bradley has just shared with him.
                “You keep secrets from your dad?”
                “When I get a chance to fuck with him? Of course!”
                Jake is pretty sure his cheeks are going to be sore from grinning so much.
                “Okay. I’m down for that… I mean. It’s you and you’re going to take the fall right? I’ve already tossed him out of the Hard Deck once. He tolerates me at best…”
                Bradley frowns then, goes to say something but a cough interrupts him, which they both turn toward.
                “There’s mail for you Bradley, as well as a few parcels. Have a good weekend.”
                “Thanks Susan, I’ll just… grab those now. I’m taking Jake on a quick tour of the labs. Have a good weekend!” Bradley looks suitably chastened and tugs Jake out of the office, because that was a very clear dismissal and he guesses having the conversation they were having right in the middle of their office was maybe not the best first impression.
                “She’s known me for over twenty years, since I was an undergrad. Have to stay on her good side. Also they close the office at half-past three on Fridays…”
                Jake wonders if Bradley is aware he’s babbling a little, but he follows him into a side room, clearly a staff mail room behind a door with swipe card access and then Bradley is pulling a face.
                “Okay, there’s like six parcels. Here… help me carry them.”
                “Sure, it’s why I’m here right? Do unpaid work?”
                “Among other things,” Bradley says, and the look he gives Jake is incendiary. There is no doubt that they’re both more than on the same page and Jake wants nothing more than to kiss him. Knowing now that Mav was trying to set Bradley up with him, that he clearly thinks that Jake is somehow worth Bradley’s time and energy.
                “I really want to kiss you.”
                “You want our first kiss to be in the mail room at my work?”
                “You got a better idea?”
                “Yeah. Yeah,” Bradley breathes, eyes dark. “Come on.”
                It’s no hardship to follow him, Bradley glancing over his shoulder to double-check Jake is still there. He guesses that they’re heading to Bradley’s office, because that’s private and hopefully has a lock. He’s not counting his eggs before they hatch or anything, but he’s hopeful. Very hopeful.
                “This is me, just let me unlock it…”
                He watches as Bradley shoulders the door open, using his foot to hold it open for Jake and he lets it swing shut behind them. Bradley unceremoniously dumps his mail and parcels on his desk (it’s a large desk Jake notes, sturdy looking), takes the parcels from Jake’s hands before giving them the same treatment. Then he’s stepping into Jake’s personal space, hand resting on Jake’s hip and yeah…
                “Hi…”
                “Hi… just, uh, a quick question. You never mentioned that you knew me. This whole time. Why not?”
                “I thought you’d maybe forgotten meeting me,” Bradley states, and he doesn’t seem to be upset at the idea and Jake frowns.
                “Forget you? You think that’s possible?”
                The slow smile transforms Bradley’s face and Jake feels his skin prickle with anticipation.
                “Well, when you said Mav hadn’t given you a list of tasks to do, and after you said you had to take it easy I figured you were maybe dealing with concussion… so…” Bradley shrugs, his lips making a little half-smile, half-smirk and Jake sways his hips forward, letting an arm wrap around Bradley’s waist.
                “Regular Sherlock huh?”
                “Better than you, you thought I was someone else for months.”
                “Figured it out eventually…”
                “Yeah you did… Now, you still want that kiss?”
                “Yeah.”
…             …             …
            “I’m not going to stop you,” Bradley replies, wetting his lips and he hears Jake’s breath catch. He shifts forward a little, wants to be encouraging but not overwhelming. His own chest feels heavy with anticipation. They meet half-way, and it’s soft, exploratory, slow like they have nowhere else to be in the world and don’t want to rush. He wants to taste, and lick, and take Jake apart and have Jake take him apart in turn… he rests his other hand on Jake’s hip, just holding gently, thumbs brushing over fabric every so often. He’s a little scared that it might all just… disappear.
                It doesn’t. Not at all. Instead Jake’s pressing against him, his own hands on Bradley’s back, fingers grabbing fabric, pulling him close and Bradley goes, no reason not to. Lets Jake edge a thigh between his, meets the gentle roll of Jake’s hips with his own not-quite-as-gentle roll. He’s had sex in his office before, but it’s been previous partner’s ways of trying to coax him home, away from work. His life hasn’t changed at all, except for his almost daily email exchange with Jake for the last few months. This right here isn’t an attempt to make Bradley go anywhere, hell, it could have started in the fucking mail room and as Jake’s hand rubs over Bradley’s hardening cock he’s very glad that he insisted on moving to his office.
                “Uhm, not that this isn’t great, but are you sure you…”
                “Yeah, yes, fuck yes… just… been a while okay?”
                “No judgement. This is a judgement free zone…”
                “Oh my god, shut up…”
                “Keep my mouth busy then…” Bradley challenges and yeah, he guesses he does like them with a little fire.
                It’s bruising this time, Jake’s lips on his, teeth biting, and he responds in like, lets his own fingers dig into the flesh of Jake’s ass, pull him close. Ignores the grunt of discomfit as Jake’s hand gets caught between their bodies; he can feel fingers working on a belt and he pulls back a little to give Jake space, because Bradley sure as hell isn’t wearing a belt. If he gets to put his hands on Jake’s cock he’s all onboard for being a little more accommodating in terms of space. He flicks his own jeans open, pushes the fly down and then Jake’s hands are there instead, shoving his jeans down and Bradley switches tack easy enough, moving his hands to Jake’s pants and underwear, pushing them down.
                “Okay?” Bradley asks, not really waiting for an answer as he wraps a hand around Jake’s cock and squeezes, his mind mentally categorizing anything in his office he could potentially use as lube (there is stuff, but not stuff he would want to use, nothing that won’t make less of a mess). Not that Jake seems to mind, his breath catching in a high-pitched whine which makes Bradley feel smug despite not having done much of anything yet. Jake’s hand circles Bradley’s cock, tight dry pressure and he groans, thrusts into it. Jake’s other hand runs through Bradley’s hair, brings him back to kissing and Bradley slides his tongue into Jake’s mouth.
                Their hands on each other are fast and dry, he’d love to take his time, draw it out, but he doesn’t think Jake would appreciate it. Not if it has been a while, and he’d said he was on deployment for seven months. He doesn’t want to assume anything, they didn’t make any promises in any of the emails, other than whatever they’re doing now, and that wasn’t exactly a promise but a potential… something. He pulls away, thrills at Jake’s annoyance but he licks his hand, dribbles excess saliva into his hand and wraps his hand back around Jake’s cock.
                “Want you to focus on coming okay? Want to use your come to jerk off…”
                “Oh fuck…”
                “Nope. Just this until we get to my bed…You need to tell me when you’re close okay?” He tightens his hand and speeds up, licks at Jake’s neck and sucks gently at the pulse point, feels the very faint stubble scrape over his bottom lip as he drags his mouth over Jake’s jaw. “Okay?”
                “Oh fuck… okay, yeah, okay Bradley…”
                He likes the sound of his name in Jake’s mouth, especially the broken breathing, like he’s struggling to get enough oxygen. Jake’s hands don’t leave Bradley’s body, but they lack decisive movement, and he takes that as a sign he’s doing a decent enough job at keeping Jake on task. He hitches forward a little, looks down at the view between their bodies, clothes askew, cocks hard and wrapped in fists, movements frantic like they’re doing this is a bathroom somewhere and could be walked in on any second.
                “Going to take my time with you next time…” Bradley promises, his hips jerking without his conscious thought and Jake seems to jerk in response, his body invisibly connected.
                “Close close close… oh shit…”
                He manages to catch most of Jake’s come in his hand, although some of it lands on his shirt. He doesn’t care. Wraps his hand around his own cock, spreads Jake’s come around. He’s close enough now that it won’t take much, not with all his senses lit up with the sounds sights smells and taste of Jake kissing him, whispering how he’s looking forward to Bradley taking his time next time. How next time he wants to get his mouth on Bradley and that, that has him coming, hips stuttering and…
                “Fucking hell…”
                He rests his head on Jake’s shoulder, lays tiny little butterfly kisses on the skin close to his mouth as sucks in a few breaths. Blood is rushing in his ears, his hand is sticky, cock stickier. He glances down and yeah, there’s a mess between them but it’s mostly on him. Pulling back slightly he reaches for the box of tissues on his desk, dislodges a pile of paper and a layer of dust on top of the box. He tugs a few free and passes them over, a few more for himself, glad he’s got a couple changes of clothes available to him right there. He kisses Jake again, softly again.
                “That take the edge off?”
                “Yes. So fucking good.”
                “We’re definitely doing that again.”
                “Hmm. I could be convinced.”
                “Glad to hear it.”
                “You know, I am actually interested in a tour though.”
                Bradley laughs, throws the tissues into his trash can, making a mental note to buy the cleaning staff an amazing gift.
                “Well, this is my office.”
PART 8 (be warned it's 8k long - maybe go have a drink or snack?)
43 notes · View notes
classiccottonss · 2 months ago
Text
The Heritage of Hand Block Printed Men's Shirts | Classic Cottons
Hand block printing is an ancient art form that has been practiced for centuries. Originating in India, this traditional method of textile printing uses carved wooden blocks to imprint intricate designs onto fabric. At Classic Cottons, we are proud to keep this heritage alive by offering a wide range of hand block print clothing, including block print shirts for men, women, and even kids.
The Art of Hand Block Printing
Hand block printing is a meticulous process that requires great skill and patience. Artisans carefully carve designs onto wooden blocks, each representing a different color or part of the pattern. These blocks are then dipped in natural dyes and stamped onto the fabric by hand. This technique ensures that each piece is unique, showcasing the artisanal craftsmanship that goes into every item. Classic Cottons embraces this traditional craft, offering an authentic and unique style that stands out in today's fashion landscape.
Why Choose Hand Block Printed Shirts?
1. Unique and Stylish Designs: Every hand block print shirt from Classic Cottons is a work of art. The intricate patterns and vibrant colors make each piece one-of-a-kind, ensuring you stand out from the crowd.
2. Eco-Friendly Fashion: At Classic Cottons, we prioritize sustainability. The hand block printing process uses natural dyes and minimal electricity, making it an environmentally friendly choice. By choosing our hand block print shirts, you're supporting sustainable fashion practices.
3. Comfortable and Breathable: Our block print shirts are made from high-quality cotton, ensuring they are soft, comfortable, and breathable. Perfect for all-day wear, these shirts are ideal for both casual and formal occasions.
Hand Block Print Shirts for Everyone
Block Print Shirts for Men: Our collection of hand block print shirts for men combines traditional designs with modern fits, making them perfect for the contemporary man who appreciates classic style. From subtle patterns to bold prints, there's a shirt for every taste.
Indian Block Print Tops for Women: At Classic Cottons, we offer a range of Indian block print tops for women. These tops are not only stylish but also comfortable, making them perfect for daily wear or special occasions.
Hand Block Print Shirts for Kids: Kids deserve to look stylish too! Our hand block print shirts for kids are designed with both comfort and style in mind. They are made from soft, breathable fabric that is gentle on young skin.
How to Style Your Hand Block Print Shirt
Styling a hand block print shirt is easy and versatile. For a casual look, pair your block print shirt with jeans or chinos and some comfortable shoes. To dress it up, wear it with tailored trousers and a blazer. Women can pair their Indian block print tops with skirts or trousers for a chic look. Kids' block print shirts go well with shorts or jeans for a cute, stylish outfit.
Embrace the Heritage with Classic Cottons
At Classic Cottons, we are passionate about preserving the heritage of hand block printing. By choosing our block print shirts, you are not only embracing a unique and stylish fashion statement but also supporting the artisans who keep this traditional craft alive. Explore our collection of hand block print shirts for men, women, and kids today, and experience the beauty and heritage of this timeless art form.
0 notes
justinspoliticalcorner · 4 months ago
Text
Jess Piper at The View from Rural Missouri:
I am also the typical rural woman, with one exception…I am a progressive. And I’m loud. And I have a large platform. And I call out the GOP, which is why what I’m about to tell you might not shock you: my family was swatted. The swat unfolded in such an odd manner. I was gardening — no surprise — and I heard my dogs start barking. They do this when anyone pulls into the drive. I looked up to see a County Sheriff’s SUV parked down the drive. He didn’t pull up close to the house. My first instinct was panic. We have four adult children and my first thought was that something had happened to one of my kids.
The deputy was apprehensive which made me even more nervous. Then I saw he had a piece of paper in his hand. Whew! I thought maybe he was looking for someone or that I had a summons or something of the sort. He stood away from me and asked if my name was Jessica. He knew the answer, he lives down the highway, but I affirmed it. He then asked me how many kids I have. Again…panic. I asked him what this was about? He walked up to me and handed over the piece of paper he was holding. It was a printed email that had been sent to several law enforcement offices and several state offices in Missouri…it had even been mailed to my local water department. The email claimed to be from a close family relation. The letter stated that the family member had murdered me and my husband the night before. It went on to state that they intended to shoot and kill anyone who came on the property. [...]
This is going to be a long list. I can think of several state legislators who would like to see police storming my house with guns drawn. I get threats nearly every week online, but I brush them off as bots. And, then something came to mind that happened last week… I wrote a tweet last week that got the attention of an account called “The Libs of Tik Tok.”
I wrote about a doctor at the fatal Trump rally who gave medical attention to the fireman who later died at the rally. I talked about being so confused to see a doctor, an OBGYN, wearing a MAGA hat and shirt. In the tweet, I spoke about not wanting to think about the treatment an immigrant or a person of color or a woman in need of an abortion would receive from that doctor. I was horrified to know that a practicing physician could support Trump. There is an important distinction for me: The doctor wasn’t your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, conservative Republican. He attended a rally in which others had signs for mass deportation and concentration camps. That’s not okay. The tweet took off, but nothing too wild until that evening. I saw my phone blow up. I muted the tweet, but it was being quote-tweeted. A lot. So, I caved and looked at what was going on. It was the “Libs of Tik Tok.” Shit. Here we go. They were not only threatening me on Twitter, they found me on Facebook and started replying to my posts. They moved to my Tik Tok account and did the same thing. I spent a couple hours blocking and deleting comments and then really didn’t think much more about it. I thought it was over.
[...] Raichik uses her platform to harass teachers and LGBTQ folks especially, but anyone in general. I am a former teacher and a progressive activist…prime for the attack. Her minions often call in bomb threats and send police officers to the doors of progressives. Someone pulled my swatting off, but there is something they should know: I was rattled, but not terrorized. You didn’t win. I am a rural woman…most in my community know me and my politics. When an email came in claiming to be a close relation who shot and killed me, they thought better than to send a SWAT team out. They knew it sounded off because they know of me. They sent my neighbor, the Deputy Sheriff. They were right.
Read this Substack post from Jess Piper, and it’s very frightening. Piper and her family were swatted recently at their home, and anti-LGBTQ+ extremist account Libs of TikTok (run by domestic terrorist Chaya Raichik) incited the swatting.
18 notes · View notes
Text
Tear in My Heart: The Meeting
Pairing: Single Dad!Matt Jackson x Teacher!reader
Category: Fluff
Word count: 1,192
Summary: A special place in your heart is reserved for Madeleine Jackson. At the end of the first day of school, she introduces you to her dad. Is the spark you feel when shaking his hand reciprocated or is this just a crush?
Warnings: None
Requested by: @mrsmatt
A/N: I don’t think the summary is that great but it’s the best I could come up with. Anyways, here’s part one @springgirlwaiting4fall ☺️🫶🏻
Part 2: The School Play
Masterlist
Taglist
Gif is not mine. Credit to the owner.
Tumblr media
The start of a new school year has came back around yet again. You loved teaching the little minds of the children in your class each year, seeing their eyes light up when they got the hang of something or when they win a prize out of the treasure box. First graders were always so excited and full of questions.
You spent the whole week preparing and planning for a fun first day for your students, name cards on desks along with a little goodie bag. You decorated your classroom in fun colors with a variety of educational materials and items hanging on the wall within the children’s reach. You had came up with all kinds of fun games for the kids to play and help them learn in the process. There was a toy chest filled with numbered blocks for learning math, books to help them read, and other useful tools to prepare them for the future.
You stood out in the hallway beside your classroom door as the bell rang and students began flooding the halls in search of their classroom. You smiled brightly as you welcomed each student that entered your room and helped the children that couldn’t find their teacher.
Inside the classroom, you welcomed them as whole and introduced yourself. You went down each row asking them to introduce themselves to the class and tell everyone one thing they loved. The answers ranged from dinosaurs to Barbie to trucks to seashells. One little girl’s answer just melted your heart. When asked about what she loved, she beamed and answered with, “My daddy.”
As the day went on, you kept thinking about how sweet that one little girl’s answer was. My daddy. You looked at the rows of desks and your eyes landed on the sweet little girl. She had gorgeous brown hair that cascaded around her shoulders, adorable chocolate brown eyes that had such liveliness in them. She was dressed in a purple shirt with a yellow butterfly printed on the front and blue jeans paired with a cute pair of purple and white Jordans. You watched how all the children interacted with one another and noticed she was always helping others and partnering up with the one or two kids that seemed to be left out.
At lunch time, you guided your class to the cafeteria. Some children had brought their lunch so you led them to the table designated for your students. You sat down at the same table with your lunchbox, smiling and chatting with the students already there. You opted to make yourself a classic PB&J. Just because you’re a teacher doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a kid like lunch.
A plastic cafeteria tray was sat on the table next to you. You looked up from your lunchbox to see the sweet little brown haired and brown eyed girl, Madeleine Jackson was her name but she liked Maddie better. “Hi!” You smiled as the little girl sat down.
“Hi Miss Y/L/N!” She cheerfully greeted you. She gave you the cutest smile and started up a conversation about how your day was going, your favorite color, favorite food and really just whatever she thought of. You would answer her questions and ask her some in return. You could tell she was thrilled to talking with you and honestly, you were happy she was interested in getting to know you.
After lunch, you led your students back to the classroom and started teaching a math lesson. All the children learned at different speeds which is to be expected. You explained the math lesson once more and gave a few examples on the whiteboard and with the blocks from the toy chest. When you felt like they had a pretty good grasp on it, you passed out a work sheet and blocks for visual aids.
You sat at your desk and went over the worksheets from the spelling activity when you heard a little voice from the front of your desk. “Can you help me more?” You looked up and your eyes met the sweet little Jackson girl. She looked like she was getting upset.
“Don’t don’t get upset, Maddie. Can you bring me some blocks? Maybe you need to think about it in a different way.” You offered and watched Maddie collect the blocks. When she returned, you helped her until she finally got the hang of it. “Great job Maddie!” She beamed at your praise, clearly thrilled she figured it out.
“I can’t wait to show daddy.” She grinned. You could tell by the way she talked about her dad that he meant the world to her, a total daddy’s girl. Once Maddie went back to her desk, you resumed going over the spelling worksheets from earlier.
As the first day drew to a close, you helped your students collect their things and put away anything they were using. Once that was done, the bell rang signaling that school was finally over for the day. You helped direct your students to the buses and to the car rider line. You joined the other teachers in standing alongside the students from your class and others, asking them if they see their car and when they did you walked them to their car. As the number of students dwindled down to the final few, you noticed one of your students was left, sweet little Maddie Jackson. You made your way over to her and crouched down. “Do you want to sit over on the bench and talk to me while we wait?” You offered to which she happily agreed.
The pair of you chatted about Disney movies and your favorite princesses until a car stopped in front of you. Looking up the little Jackson girl’s face lit up as she squealed, “Daddy!” She jumped down and raced towards him as he exited the car, smiling wide as he scooped her up in hug.
You couldn’t help yourself from smiling at the sweet scene in front of you. The little girl’s dad was absolutely gorgeous, from his long brown hair to his gorgeous chocolate brown eyes and his contagious smile. Looking between the two, there was no mistaking them as father and daughter, she was the miniature version of him.
“Daddy! Daddy! You have to meet my teacher!” Maddie insisted, tugging on her dad’s hand once he sat her back down from the hug. He just shook his head laughing, letting her drag him over to you on the bench.
“Daddy, this is Miss Y/L/N. She’s the best teacher ever!” Maddie excitedly informed her dad. You were happy and surprised at Maddie’s statement. You always wanted to make an impression on your students, but you never realized it could be done that quickly.
Maddie’s dad chuckled at his daughter’s enthusiasm. “I’m Matt.” He introduced himself, a beautiful smile on his face. He reached out to shake your hand.
You instantly returned the smile. “Y/N.” You accepted his handshake. As you did so, you felt a sort of connection, an electric connection, a spark shooting through you. Did he feel the same?
General Taglist: @legit9thlunaticwarrior @plentyoffandoms @1dluver13xx @sunshinevirus @wwenhlimagines @crowleysqueenofhell @jackson-nickthedate13 @omg-im-such-a-masochist @kmc1989
Matt Jackson Taglist: @mrsmatt @morgan-bucks @rubyred1980 @breezyvk @writtingrose @jennifuz @writtingelite @katries @siriuslyblackonback
88 notes · View notes
Text
Pit Babe episode 4 rewatch/live commentary (part 2)
Starting strong with some hot WinnerKim
Tiny but feisty !
(Blood) Red really is Winner color
Also, up until now, all of Kim jackets cover is hand....giving him some cute sweater paws
I want to believe Winner here
If they didn't end up making out against that garage door, what was the point of shouting this scene like this ?
Going there alone wasn't really your brightest idea Babe.
End why did Tony let him go ?
That was hot Kenta
Nothing......just the bonzai
Tumblr media
"and i will never come back here again" Babe, you literally just did that....
That so corny Charlie..And Babe's falling for it
And the sandwich ???
Charlie "Aw he's worried about me "; Babe "why did i open my mouth"
Sure Babe, whatever you say
And now you're both hurting...yeah
That was down right mean
Is Alan wearing a denim t-shirt under a denim jacket with cheetah print and a blue jeans ?
Go Jeff, that very french minded of you (yes i'm talking about the strike)
Call him out ! You got this Baby boy!
Jeff just go nong-zoned
Hello jackets
Tumblr media
Chill out Babe, oh my god
Jeff is out for blood lol
Speak to him you big baby!!! You're acting like a spoiled kid
And you, answer him!!!! Jeff already got his place among the X-Hunter team
At this point, Babe his more sad/heartbroken than genuinely angry
The way he is seeking eyes contact with Charlie, waiting for an answer
I wish i was able to gif every single micro expression on both Babe and Charlie throughout the series. And also do an in depth analyse of Pavel voice acting.....
Hiii Kenta
Hiii Pete
The look on Kenta's face when he realize who he is looking at.
"Gotta call Daddy asap"
Poor puppy
You didn't even block him, espèce de patate ! Maybe you should take somme lesson from Jeff.
......more please
Tumblr media
Way sound so worried
Lee, just Lee
Tumblr media
I love them so much
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tada!!! And now lets start episode 5.....Bye bye
6 notes · View notes
squadron-of-damned-writes · 2 months ago
Note
ii would ask totenwaltser but ii already know so. um. lapse in judgement/dodge a bullet, watch my hands (the trick of a lifetime) and procházky šestým městem
Funnily enough, Lapse in judgement/Dodge a bullet doesn't have a scene which I wanted to exist so much that I wrote the rest of the fic. I had the idea of "this is how m!preg could prevent DL-6" and just went from there. With that being said, once I began writing, I really wanted to write baby Franziska being the most responsible no-nonsense adult while three years old, which manifested itself in "Be here at 6 pm sharp, no lollygagging." I suppose that counts.
Watch my hands (the trick of a lifetime) comes from my long-term desire for Shelly de Killer to appear more and most of all intereact on friendly terms of the AJ trilogy crew, because the new kids on the block don't know him and wouldn't recognise him. (Actualy I've kind of been sitting on the idea of Shelly being Franziska's weird little girl buddy for a case or two, but I haven't gotten anywhere with it, because. No plot. Yet.) The specific scene that I wanted to write was for Shelly to do a magic trick with his signature cards, with Trucy Wright, ace magician, being entirely unimpressed while everyone else around her loses their goddamn mind, because oh fuck it is the famous assassin Shelly de Killer. Another scene I wanted there was bandaged Shi-Long Lang with absolutely no shirt on begrudgingly sitting in the car and very decidedly not looking at Shelly who is very focused on driving, because he is operating a machine with a deadly momentum among other machines with deadly momentums.
Procházky šestým městem (Eng: Walks through the Sixth City) are a bit of a special case: I do not have a scene, but I do have this sort of a vibe. With that being said, the vibe is mostly Sherlock Holmes AKA the Honey-Addled Detective AKA the Ex-Student's Self-Appointed Friend wearing increasingly more disturbing T-shirts. That being said, I've started with "a very worn T-Shirt with print of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart with big headphones and even a bigger photoshoped cheschire grin" and I am not sure I can one-up this. Eventually the singer Karel Gott is going to make an appearance.
2 notes · View notes