#create your own club blazers

[cliftonclothing]

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Design Your Own Hawaiian Shirt Create Your Own Club Blazers

[byhees]

high-school boyfriend.

엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 1700 genre fluff established relationship high school au warnings not proof-read kissing skinship petnames mention of food, rain — more

a/n. revamped version ><

heeseung

even though you both aren’t in the same classes, he’d always try to spend as much time as possible with you; would often offer to walk you to your classes, despite his own being on the other end of campus; would walk you to and from school, even going as far as to take your usual bus to accompany you home— he’d be more than willing to take a detour, or four, for you; while walking you two might even take a break, and grab a few street snacks from nearby stalls.

if it were to rain, he’d tag along with you on your bus trip, wanting to keep you company— and to shield you from the downpour, because you had a tendency to forget your umbrella; playing little games with one another, because what better way to pass time than to carry out a raindrop race? “i bet two dollars that that raindrop will pass the finish line first”, and you’d be met with a, “hah, you’re so on. my bet’s on that one”; gawking at the window with such anticipation and excitement, unintentionally making brief eye contact with passers-by.

him draping his school blazer over your shoulders, so that you’d be warm in the midst of the chilly rain; “what’re you—“, and in an instant, he’d cut you off with, “nope, nope, no protests, baby”.

would purposely bump into you in hallways, just so he can say, “oh wow! not even fate can separate us from one another, babe”.

jongseong

a little bit clumsy and forgetful, but he’s got the spirit! the type to go “huh, we had homework?” right before the teacher enters the classroom; being the very loving, amazing, stunning girlfriend that you are, you’d give him gentle reminders of the upcoming examinations and assignments.

little ‘tutoring’ sessions in the library; well, if you could consider giggling over absolutely nothing and doodling random animals on the side of your workbooks, tutoring?

would proudly show off his little bento boxes after every cooking club session; “look, babe! this is what we made earlier today, pretty cool, aye?”; and when you happen to forget your lunchbox, he’d scoot over to you, offering you half of his metal tiffin with a small smile. “good thing i made extras this morning! want a bite? i even got your favourites!”; is willing to give you his portion in a heartbeat. “don’t worry about me! i can manage, y’know? it’s more important that you’re well fed! after all, you’ll be busy later on, right bubs?”

jaeyun

given his love for maths, he would definitely have some liking towards little math-related pickup lines— in fact, he would’ve went out of his way to search ‘lines to absolutely blow my girlfriend away with my charms’; funny thing is that you’d actually get flustered over them.. one example would be the infamous 128 √e980 question; he’d ask you, in a very inconspicuous way, to solve it, no explanations given— and when you gaze at him with full-blown confusion, he’d cover half the expression, the words ‘i love you’ staring back at you.

the type to create weird code-names for practically everyone— shares it with you, and only you, because he likes the specialness of it; it’s a unique little way of communication that you two have.

would buy an extra portion of his usual sandwich, and leave it by your tabletop; “breakfast is very important, babe. can’t leave it out, m’kay?” he’d say, draping an arm around your shoulder to pull you close to his side.

would plant little kisses on your cheek before parting for class; “don’t miss me too much, baby!” he’d chime, a cheeky smile tugging on the corners of his lips.

sunghoon

would, very coincidentally, forget his textbooks nearly every day; he’d often come up to you with a pair of pleading doe eyes, and go, “babe..? i kinda need to borrow that calculus book again..”— it genuinely leaves you wondering if he comes to school empty-handed; whenever he hands the book back to you, he’d always mention one page in particular— “make sure you flip to page 233, okay?”; every time you do so, you wind up seeing a piece of folded-up paper tucked between the pages. unfolding it, it’d read something like ‘i love you my little mcmuffin’, or ‘it seems that you get impossibly more beautiful every single day’. alternatively, he’d do something like a post-it puzzle, where each post-it would be a part of a big picture.

would doodle little drawings on the corners of your notebooks; it might be a small portrait of you, it might also be a shaky drawing of shrek, you never know.

loves giving you his hoodies because he finds that you look really endearing in his oversized clothes; a bonus if his name is embroidered in the corner of the outerwear— never fails to bring a little smile to his face.

sunoo

would be a little more shy in terms of his expressions of love; definitely the type to buy subtle matching accessories, like rings or bracelets, because he thinks that they’re pretty cute— gets ones that he thinks would compliment you the best.

has a whole candy, or chocolate, supply in the front pocket of his backpack, because he knows that you love snacking on little snacks when stressed; slides it on your table with a small smile— “here… for you, love”, and you’d simply melt right then and there.

the type to embrace you from behind, and nuzzle his nose into the nape of your neck, a bashful grin playing on the corners of his lips; “good luck for your exam, love”, he’d mumble, eliciting a soft giggle from you.

jungwon

is so, so clingy; practically misses you 24/7, without fail. and he isn’t one to hide this, despite being in the middle of a class— in fact, he’s so criminally unsubtle with it as well; he’d be staring at your direction for ten minutes straight, clearly standing out from the rest of the class, whose heads are turned to face the whiteboard; gets caught by the teacher, and makes excuses like “oh, there’s a gigantic bee near the window”; would shamelessly pass notes to you in class— whispers to his seat partners to “give it to yn, please”. they’d probably say ‘i miss you so much, i can’t even concentrate’, or something along the lines of ‘were you formed by water eroding rocks over billions of years? because you are GORGE-ous’.

shares his earphones with you during lunch, or when you both are waiting for a bus by the bus stop; makes cute little playlists for you— titles them as words that remind him of you, like ‘pretty’.

has a habit of linking arms with you; being little menaces and walking down the hallways that way— “i’ll walk you to literature, how about that?” he’d ask, flashing a sweet smile, dimples making an appearance.

riki

loves to bother you like it’s his favourite pastime; is seated right behind you in nearly every class, and so, he has the very amazing privilege to tease and bother you infinitely; “hey babe,” he’d lean forward, tapping you on your shoulder. following which, he’d tilt his head, leaning close to reduce the proximity between your faces. he’d then whisper into your ear, “wingardium leviosa”— and he’d just shuffle back to his seat, as though nothing had happened.

likes stealing your stationery, because he lowkey finds that irritated pout of yours, adorable; purposely holds it high up above his head, arm outstretching towards the ceiling, because he’s well aware of your height difference— another point to tease you with.

has a habit of planting soft kisses on your forehead— loves the way the corners of your eyes crinkle, and the way your lips curve up in the wake of a grin; loves resting his head on your shoulder because it makes him feel at ease.

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @vnsux @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 @lilly-bubblelops @smouches @mrchweeee @luvistqrzzz @nwjws @ibsysbsfsunsbs @rikisly @amyysfics @mixtape-racha @berry-and-kkami @rikislady networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

[ivystoryweaver]

Fairytale of New York

Summary: A tired, pathetic puppy wanders into your diner on Christmas Eve. Things...escalate.

Pairing: Llewyn Davis from Inside Llewyn Davis x f!reader who wants what she wants

Word Count: 2.2k

Content: nsfw, mdni, language, mentions of past mistreatment, talk of contraception, gun but no violence, oral -f and m rec., not beta'd

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Bone-weary.

Your grandmother used to say it.

The man in front of you looked deep-in-his-bones, forlornly, kicked-puppy exhausted.

Which was a feat in and of itself, seeing how you were surrounded this evening by hungry, homeless people, and he was definitely the most handsome one by far.

Chocolate curls tumbled effortlessly across his forehead. His dark beard was kempt - not the fuzzy, matted mess of the men around him.

At first glance, you wondered if he was here to order a regular meal or volunteer. He almost looked put-together enough.

But he sighed - a bone-weary, defeated, groaning sigh.

"Cold night," you commented, noticing how he struggled to create even the tiniest spark of warmth from his corduroy blazer and wool scarf. He seemed to try and make himself smaller, as if willing the too-thin layers of fabric to truly envelop him.

"No shit," he fired back, clenching his fingerless glove around the handle of his guitar case. Noticing your look of slight amusement, he sighed, tiredly. "Sorry. Long night. Wondering if I could get some coffee?"

"Sure thing," you nodded past him to an empty two-top, offering him a warm smile.

Your boss Sal was a hard ass with a heart of gold. On Christmas Eve, anyone could eat free from ten to midnight at this fine dining establishment where you earned your measly paycheck.

You were living the dream - serving diner tables. But Sal was good to you and the other guys and gals you called coworkers - granting holiday bonuses and sometimes, you could swear he beefed up your tips at the end of the night. Just a couple dollars here or there, but it helped.

You returned to the pathetic puppy of a man with a fresh, hot cup of coffee. "Want something to eat? Everything's on the house tonight."

One eyebrow shot up curiously. "Free? You're serious."

"It's Christmas Eve," you said mysteriously, wiggling your fingers as if casting a spell. "Sal's got a soft spot for people who need a hot meal and got nowhere to go."

Kicked Puppy nodded, his eyes momentarily flickering up and down your body.

"So, what'll it be, handsome? You want something to warm you up besides that coffee? Or do you have a pressing holiday engagement?"

Narrowing his tired, dark eyes, he looked like he was trying to come up with a clever reply, but ultimately let out a defeated, bitter-ish chuckle. "Got friends, but...every one of them's pissed at me. On my own tonight."

He shrugged helplessly. "I guess I'm kind of an asshole sometimes."

Wagging your finger, you went along with him, playfully. "I could tell that about you, right when you walked in. I took one look and thought, 'that guy is definitely an asshole. Probably shouldn't serve him.'"

He almost chuckled, but it was a weak laugh at best.

"Bowl of chili sound good? Or...I have chicken noodle, or a hamburger. Not much left in the kitchen," you offered.

A few minutes later, Mr. Handsome Kicked Puppy sipped his bowl of chili while you finished up with your other customers. A few of the homeless guys liked to flirt with you, but they were pretty harmless.

Everyone knew not to cross Sal and his employees anyway.

You noticed Kicked Puppy's gaze fixed on you, so you made your way back over and checked to see if he needed a refill.

"I'm good," he waved you off, but something made you linger. Probably the fact that he was kind of beautiful.

"You a singer?" You prodded, nodding to his guitar case.

He made a face - seemed to be a sore spot for him, but concurred. "Sang across the street tonight. You ever been?"

Peering out the window, you read the club's neon sign. "No, but I always wanted to. What kind of music?"

"The only kind," he shrugged.

You motioned to the spot across from him. "Mind if I sit a minute? Feet are killing me. Promise I won't ask you to sing."

He leaned back, folding his arms over his chest, eyeing you curiously. "Oh, you won't?"

"'Course not," you smiled, waving your hand dismissively. "Everyone knows musicians hate that. It's like...your living. You can't just sing for free."

His eyebrows shot up as he leaned in. "You're mocking me..."

"No," you laughed. "I'm serious. It would be like someone asking me to serve drinks at a party without paying me." You motioned around you. "Not much of a career but I should still get paid for it."

"Thank you." He gestured animatedly. "My...friends - some of the people who usually let me crash - always try to parade me out at dinner parties, like an attraction. Fucking annoying."

He paused for a moment. "Almost feel like I owe them sometimes, you know... Can't do it, though."

"You have your pride," you sympathetically reasoned. "That's fair enough."

You stood, reaching to collect his dirty dishes. "So, who's couch is it tonight if everyone's pissed at you?"

Running a gloved hand over his beard, he shook his head and shrugged. "What time do you close?"

"Midnight."

He slowly nodded.

"What's your name, singer?"

"Llewyn."

You smiled softly and introduced yourself. "You don't have anywhere to go after midnight, do you?"

He shook his head as his gaze dropped.

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12:24 A.M. - Christmas

"Can't believe you're letting a strange man sleep in your apartment," the handsome bone-weary puppy voiced as you turned the key in your deadbolt.

"You're not a stranger anymore, Llewyn," you replied, trying to find just the right way to wiggle your key... "Got it! Damn thing sticks all the time."

Shouldering your way inside, you tossed your bag on the tiniest kitchen bar in existence, motioning for him to come on in.

"Like I told you - it's not much. You might be warmer sleeping in a car, but the love seat will keep you off this frigid, hard floor. And the water's warm, since we're over the diner. Sal's my landlord too. He keeps everything running nice enough. Cheap ass on heat though."

"No, I really appreciate it," he gratefully returned, “especially on Christmas. You sure I'm not interrupting anything?"

"No..." You let out a wistful sigh. "No, I don't have anyone." You smirked at him playfully. "But I do own a revolver if you're having any weird ideas."

"Holy shit," he whistled. "Glad you take care of yourself, I guess."

Llewyn reveled in your attention and care over the next half hour. You made a batch of hot cocoa while he took the warmest shower he'd had in weeks. You turned on a Christmas record and found a couple of thick blankets for him to sleep (or attempt to sleep) cramped up on the love seat.

"Thank you for this," he quietly voiced, sipping his cocoa, his eyes drooping with exhaustion. "Don't deserve it. If you knew me, you'd push me right back out that door."

"Maybe," you shrugged, sipping your own warm beverage as you curled up in the only chair in the place. "But it's Christmas. Even assholes and loners need a break sometimes."

He regarded you with interest, his eyes raking over your form for the millionth time. "That what you are? A loner?"

You hid behind the ceramic of your mug for a moment of reprieve. "Have to be. What else is there for a woman who doesn't want a marriage and kids?"

You shuddered, remembering how many times your ex had sabotaged your efforts at contraception...and how violent he'd become when he found out you were actively trying to not get pregnant.

Hence the waitress job, freezing apartment...and the revolver.

"You don't want kids?" He asked, clearing his throat. Maybe you were somehow...perfect.

"I really don't. You’d think women would have a few more options now that it’s the ‘60s. So I got my revolver to make sure my ex stays away. He’s a bigger asshole than the two of us," you answered, transparently. Noticing how his dark eyes widened at your candor, you laughed.

"Scared yet?"

"No," he chuckled. "But I guess that answers the question of whether or not we're gonna fuck."

Smirking, you took one more sip of cocoa before pushing off your chair to kneel down in front of him. Your eyes met his challengingly as you spread your palms over his thighs, pushing them up to his hips.

"That why you're an asshole?" You challenged, reaching for the zipper of his trousers. "Can't be bothered to wear a condom?"

"Can't afford that shit," he fired back, enjoying the view down your t-shirt.

"Definitely an asshole," you shake your head, dragging his zipper down and tracing your fingertips over the outline of his hardening length.

"My pussy's off limits unless you want my revolver shoved up your ass," you inform, leaning over to suck on his leaking tip through the fabric of his underwear. "But fuck it. It's Christmas. You can come in my mouth."

"Fucking hell," he groaned at your forwardness, shifting his hips to give you easier access to pull his cock free.

"Oh shit, you're big," you marveled, running the tip of your tongue over your lips in anticipation. Wrapping your hands around him, you turned your eyes up to his. "Merry Christmas. Don't say I never gave you anything."

You licked a stripe up the underside of his shaft before placing him on your flat tongue. Your eyes flickered back up to his tauntingly as you slowly wrapped your lips around him and swirled your tongue.

"Jes....oh fuck," he moaned, gripping the arm of the tiny couch.

Bobbing your head up and down a few times, you pushed yourself past the point of comfort and swallowed his tip. Your mouth stretched to take him, and the challenge of it made you instantly wet.

“Holy f-fuck,” he responded eagerly, “just like that.” You let him fuck your mouth, free hand gripping your jaw as his hips found a rhythm thrusting and gagging you.

Something about how pathetic this man was - how eager and responsive to your touch - it was doing it for you. You hadn’t done anything this spontaneous in a long time, but it felt good. And you certainly didn’t mind a heavy, hot cock in your mouth.

A few heavy thrusts and gags later and he coated your throat with his spend, letting out a near embarrassing whine as he came.

You let him soften before pulling off him and licking your lips clean. “Bet you’ll sleep well now.” You winked.

“Holy shit,” he gasped, shaking his head as you stood and started to shed your clothes. Remembering you were pretty clear about not fucking without a condom, he slowly stood, stuffing his soft cock back into his pants. “What are you…”

“I have a twin bed, but you’ll fit better than on that thing.” You nodded to the love seat, now standing in front of him completely nude. “But to sleep with me, you’re gonna need to return the favor. I’m fucking soaked.”

Minutes later, this rather beautiful, bearded man knelt between your legs in bed, his prominent nose nudging tauntingly at your puffy clit. His plush mouth sampled your pussy lips, as if he was making out with your cunt.

“F-fuck yes,” you groaned as he fucked his tongue into your hole, sucking and slurping at your juices.

Your hands slid into the softest curls, twisting them around your fingers as you rocked your pelvis up to meet his soft beard.

The he started humming. And not just a humming sound but a fucking tune. After several delicious, deep thrusts of his tongue, he pulled out, making you whine at the loss of stimulation.

His hum gently morphed into a few lyrics as his eyes gazed up at you, equal parts cocky and pussy drunk - your slick coating his beard and lips.

‘Hang me, oh hang me…I’ll be dead and gone…’

He slid two fingers into your slick, warm hole, curling them with the dexterity of an instrumentalist. Then lowered his smirking mouth back down to trace circles around your clit with his tongue. Kept right on humming.

Laying his tongue flat, he laved your sensitive bundle of nerves with a few rough licks before wrapping those sexy lips around it and sucking.

He added a third finger - you were plenty wet enough for it and the slight stretch made your back arch off your twin bed. Fingers curling, lips sucking, and that insistent hum sent you right over the edge into earth-shattering bliss. Your body seized in mind-altering pleasure and then went completely white as you rode out the best orgasm you’d had in years.

He worked you through it before blatantly licking you clean and climbing his way up your body to cage you in. The look on his face told you he was definitely satisfied with himself, but the hot flesh of his cock prodding at your thigh meant he didn’t want this to be over.

"Is that my revolver or are you ready for more?" You teased, reaching to wrap you fingers around his cock. "Don't think I have any condoms big enough for all this."

He groaned, hips shifting into your grip. "Maybe we could just - "

"I'll will shoot you. Go the fuck to sleep, Llewyn."

And that's how an exhausted, pathetic puppy of a man, with soulful brown eyes, and the voice of an angel, ended up in your twin bed on Christmas Eve.

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[isaut]

𝒐𝒑. 𝟐𝟐 𝒃. 𝟓𝟐: 𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒐 𝒅𝒊 𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒆— chrollo x reader. 8k. ao3. ethically reposted from my old blog.

there’s a very handsome man who wants nothing more than to take you to see dvorak’s symphonies performed on a winter night. even if you did just tell him you don’t have the time to dedicate to a relationship. it doesn’t matter, you can’t stay away. neither can he. inclusive of all the Ophelia's Kuroro gems: czech composers, french, kuroro-is-just-a-guy, opera gloves, large jewels inherited via a vague late grandmother, tarot readings, incense lighting, angel & princess, sex scene equivalent to panning to an ocean view, showering in your own home. part of ten million jenny. enjoy!

Years ago, your little apartment had served everything you wanted. Windows that opened so you could blow cigarette smoke out of. A small kitchen you spent hours in, brewing coffee for your doctorate, and hours creating the perfect hangover recipes from too-long nights out in the club. 

Now, however, instead of house music hits from the early 2000s blasting through the apartment to keep you awake, you have soothing blues music, crooning through your speaker to keep you calm and alert. Keep you from being too nervous as you apply the last of your jewelry in the mirror. In the reflection of the vanity you’ve had since you were a teenager, since you began this trip into education and been too lazy to move out of your apartment, you take in your appearance. Glossy lips, smoky eyes, teardrop pearls from your grandmother’s premature inheritance. 

You’re honestly still quite confused at how you’ve ended up back here, dolling yourself up with the excitement of a date. A nice, proper date, one where you had to break out a floor-length gown, pearls and emeralds. A date with a man who had punched a hole in your perfect, ten year plan you’ve had since you started college. Get the degrees, as many as you want. Become a spinster. Don’t have kids, whatever you do. Enjoy post-work drinks with your mother on Fridays, because you’re both workaholics. 

Instead. Instead. You’re waiting for a text that your date is here, waiting for your… Your date who you’ve tried to explain to numerous times that you can’t be in a relationship, that you can’t date because… Work, because family, because work, because work, because—

Instead of a text, there’s a knock at your door. A little startled, you apply the last touches of perfume over the dots of vaseline you allied moments prior. You pull on the opera gloves, and clasp a bracelet over your wrist as you head to the door. Your dress swishes around your slippers. 

After a quick look through the peephole, you gasp upon seeing Kuroro standing there, with one hand behind his back. You undo the multiple locks, throwing open the heavy door and giving him a breathless smile. He looks handsome, standing before you. The snow flurries dust his shoulders, his scarf hangs open around the lapels of his blazer, his jacket. 

“I was expecting a text,” You say, inviting him into your home. He ducks his head as he enters and stays in your foyer, not wanting to bring his outside shoes in. 

“Your neighbor was entering the building the same time I was,” Kuroro says. “I hope you don’t mind.” 

“Not at all,” You say. “Let me get my shoes on and we can head out.” 

Kuroro produces a bouquet of winter flowers from behind his back, filled with anemones and camellias, with a few roses sprinkled throughout. Your breath catches, slowing your movements and keeping you in the foyer. 

“Oh these are gorgeous, Kuroro…” 

“They’re just trying to be as wonderful as you,” Kuroro responds sweetly. 

“You’re a flatterer,” You respond. “There are vases on the top shelf of the kitchen, and there’s a step stool tucked between the fridge and the wall if you need it. Make sure to use—“

“The filtered water, I know,” Kuroro finishes, sliding off his shoes for the brief walk to your kitchen. This isn’t his first time filling up a vase in your apartment. He’s glad that the white roses are still in their vase by the window on the tiny breakfast table, even if they are browning on the edges. 

After you had turned down his offer for a steady relationship, a relationship with a title, he didn’t think the roses would still be around. He didn’t think he would still be around. Nonetheless, he retrieves the vase, fills it with the filtered water from the fridge. Places them in your living area. Waits for you to reappear. 

And when you do, you’re a vision. Fur draped over your arms, heels in your hand, a little clutch bag with a delicate chain hanging from your shoulder. 

“There’s my angel,” Kuroro says. He gives you an arm for balance while you slide into your heels, then helps you into your coat. Your perfume wafts over him, and he desperately wants to lean in and smell you better. Place a kiss against your pulse point. 

Instead, he keeps his hand on your waist as you lock your door, escorting you down to his car outside. It’s still sitting out front, hazards on, true to his story. 

As shallow as it is, you can’t remember the last time that you had dated a man who owned a car. What an exciting new aspect to explore. There had simply never been a need for one growing up in the city. 

Kuroro opens the door and has you slide into the warmth before you can formulate a response. It shuts, leaving you in the roll of the heaters. You pull on your seatbelt. You let the shoulder of your jacket fall slightly, only to quickly pull it back up as Kuroro opens his door and slides in. 

His gaze lingers on your once-bare shoulder, before quickly flitting back to your eyes. He fixes you with a charming, half smile that you can’t help but dream about. It’s honestly quite embarrassing. 

Should tonight go well, you’ll be thankful that you cleaned earlier that day. Sometimes with the rush of work, it makes everything so overwhelming. Something about Kuroro… 

You don’t dwell on it. Instead, you place your hands in Kuroro’s personal space. He hates it with others, as you’ve noticed, but loves it around you. Stands in your spaces in lines, sliding through the metro turnstiles right after you. (Sometimes, while this is not a violation of your personal space, but an extension of the previous point, he hops turnstiles to pick you up at the station by his house. Someone has to carry your all too heavy work bag back to his home or yours.)

You place your hands in Kuroro’s personal space, gently tucking back a strand of black hair to see his earrings better. They’re jade, heavy and silver. You lightly run your thumb along the shell of his ear, acrylic nail clacking against the expensive stone. 

“You look handsome tonight, Kuroro,” You say. Kuroro preens under your touches. The blinkers turn off. Gentle music fills the car. It reminds you of some of your own playlists. 

“I had to put in a little extra work tonight, I knew you would upstage me by a long shot,” Kuroro responds easily. “I have company tonight. I intend to impress.” 

“Oh?” You asked, knowing and teasing all at the same time. 

Kuroro hums in agreement. His hand comes off the shift to take yours. He kisses the back of your knuckles as if his heart isn’t thumping in his chest. He hopes his hands aren’t clammy. 

“I barely realized you were wearing gloves,” Kuroro says, after realizing he was kissing velvet, not skin. His thumb smooths over the fabric. “You never fail to surprise me.” 

“I don’t get opportunities to wear them that often,” You reply, breezily and easily. “I’m grateful for the chance.” 

Kuroro lets out one of his little chuckles, where he knows something you don’t. It makes your heart skip a beat. 

“I would have looked like a fool showing up by myself when I had two tickets.” You both know he’s lying, and he bought the second one especially for you. You both only know his reluctance is because you had told him only a few days prior; No, Kuroro. I can’t be your girlfriend, not right now. I have too much going on to be in a relationship.

In all honesty, you were surprised that denying him hadn’t severed your relationship. He had taken it in stride, asking if you wanted a ride home. As long as you aren’t uncomfortable with me being here. Given that you woke up there the next morning, it was safe to say the two of you were alright (for now) of not defining anything. 

The drive to the concert hall is quiet, but it’s not like you aren’t familiar with Kuroro’s silences. It was always as if he was expecting you to offer up some sort of silly conversation for him to dissect. 

Instead, you rest your arm on the centre console and hold his hand. It’s bizarre, how much you miss the feeling of his skin pressed against yours. The cool of his rings clinking against yours. 

Upon arrival, Kuroro takes great pride in arriving with you. He’s able to help you up the stairs, taking each stone step slower. It felt like gliding. At the coat check, he slides your coat off before his, rests his hand on your lower back to guide you through the crowds. 

You end up standing to the side of the theater with Kuroro, each of you holding expensive plastic glasses of champagne in your hands. It’s always so exciting when you get an opportunity to indulge in the bubbly drink. The inability to use your fingers proved freeing, instead of irritating. You knew it was alight with notifications, as it annoyingly is. 

“Normally, when I’m coming to see something here, it’s daylight and everyone is much more casual,” You state. 

“Is it?” Kuroro asks, facing you with genuine interest. 

Drawing your gaze back from the crowd, you let yourself fall into the tunnel of Kuroro’s eyes. The world melts away when you retract your focus back to him. It’s calming, in a sense you’ve never felt before. 

“The university uses it for performances from time to time,” You elaborate. “And to beat the crowd we’re in right now, they’d be right after classes finished for the day. So… Much more casual.” 

You bring your freehand to rest on the lapel of Kuroro’s blazer. Your finger slides under the thick fabric, appreciating the fold of the wool. 

“It’s quite amazing, you know. How involved you are in everything around you.” 

You shrug. “I get invited, and I wouldn’t want to tell any of them no. For all I know they’ve been stood up by their parents for every single of their performances growing up. It’s the least I can do.” 

Kuroro takes in your statement, digests it through his brain. His heart feels like it might pop out of his chest. “Do you go often?” 

“They normally happen at the end of the semester, so. Yeah.” You take a sip of the dry champagne. You wish you could follow it with the sweetness of Kuroro’s tongue. “But I’m going to be completely honest, some of them are horrible.” 

Kuroro can’t help but chuckle at your candidness. “Really?” 

“Really,” You say, shaking your head. “It’s honestly quite ridiculous. I couldn’t imagine spending this much money to end up with such a shit result.” 

The chuckles continue. “Ophelia…” 

“I’m telling the truth,” You insist, doubling down on your statement. You can’t help but smile alongside Kuroro. “Some of them are really good! I get a surprising amount of opera students in my room.” 

It’s absolutely insane, how Kuroro cannot help himself around you. How genuine it feels, talking to you in public like there’s no one else there. 

“I enjoy going,” You summarize to him. 

“You must.” One of his hands comes to rest on your hip, gently pulling you closer. The velvet feels like gold under his fingers. “Not to cut you short, but I have to reiterate how absolutely beautiful you look right now. Everytime I see you…” He shakes his head. “It’s always like a dream.” 

You can’t help but give the poor boy credit where credit is due. “You picked the place, angel.” 

“I did,” Kuroro says, wrapping his arm further around your waist, from your hip to your lower back. “But it’s the company that makes the moment, no?” 

The seats Kuroro had purchased were nice, not too close but not too far from the stage. A little off center. To your left was a balding man sweating in his tuxedo next to a much younger woman, who was busy texting on her phone. 

You look back to Kuroro, who is fixing you with a similar look. Amusement and intrigue at the scene you’ve stumbled upon. With both of you sitting down, you take the pamphlet out of Kuroro’s hands. Boldly, he places a small kiss to your cheekbone, all too intimate for the situation. Or perhaps that’s the angle he’s going for. 

“Do you know anything about the composer?” You ask, crossing your legs and slanting your knees towards Kuroro. He gladly places his palm upon the hidden skin. 

“Not much, quite honestly.” He had been more preoccupied trying to obtain tickets so he could take you on a show-stopping date. “I know he’s Czech. And he’s from the 1800s.” 

You raise your eyebrow. It’s rare for Kuroro to admit he doesn’t know something. Instinctively, you reach for your phone, but remember your gloves. You fix Kuroro with a pleading look, shimmer highlighting the inner corners of your eyes. 

“If only there was a way we could find this information. It’s a shame we’ll have to go to the library tomorrow and look it up in an encyclopedia.” 

Kuroro smiles, pulling his phone out of his blazer pocket, deleting a few notifications before opening up his web browser. He reads the brief summary close to you, allowing you to peer over his shoulder as he reads. You let your hand rest on his arm, thumb slowly making patterns in the thick fabric. 

More and more patrons start to enter, and an elder woman seems thrilled to be sitting in front of Kuroro. The lights dim, and Kuroro straightens up slightly, adjusting his cufflinks in the dim lighting.They catch your attention, and you catch his wrist to examine them as the orchestra begins to file in. 

The examination turns into successful hand holding. Kuroro’s fingers end up moving up and down, to your wrists and the tips of your fingers, intrigued by the sensation of the velvet. It’s sweet, if not slightly distracting. You don’t mind. 

—

On the drive home, you reapply your lipgloss to distract yourself from your question. “Do you want to come up for a drink?” 

Kuroro looks over, admiring the new shine on your lips. Of course he wants to. “I’d be honored to.” 

You give him a little hum and put your lipgloss back in the bag, which seals with a little snap. “Cool.” 

Instead of parking out from the apartment and putting on his hazards, Kuroro circles and looks for a parking spot. He’d offer to have you over to his place instead, where there's a parking garage and an elevator that isn’t always out of order. The offer is on his lips after he has to find parking a block away. 

When he doesn’t get out of the car immediately to open your door, you glance over at him, hands resting expectantly atop your purse. 

“I’m not going to your place,” You insist. “I need to take a shower in my own bathroom tonight.”

“Ah,” Kuroro’s face softens, eyes flicking down to your lips before he turns off the car. Before he can open his door, however, you catch his attention by grabbing his scarf and giving it a small tug. 

“Donne-moi un bisou.” 

Kuroro knows what you mean, but he knows that once he starts he won’t be able to stop. “I don’t speak French.” 

Your jaw drops in disbelief while Kuroro smiles, rounding the car to open your door for you. He offers you his arm, which you gladly take. It was quite cold out, but luckily Kuroro took the opportunity to give you his scarf. The most annoying part of the journey is the swishing of your dress between your feet, which requires all of your attention.

The way up to your front door, Kuroro keeps himself close to your back, as if to shield you from anyone so much as glancing at you. The streets are empty, he has nothing to worry about. He smells warm, full bodied frankincense and amber.

It’s a dangerous game, how natural it feels to have Kuroro in your personal space. Down to just his slacks and three of his shirt buttons undone. In his hand is a gin and tonic, made with purple gin and garnished with a mint leaf. Yours sits on the coffee table while you choose which incense to light. 

You slide the chosen incense stick out of the box, careful to not let Kuroro see exactly which stick you were choosing. You didn’t need him interfering in your business like that. The smoke joins the atmosphere and you wave it around a bit. Chrollo watches the intricate and delicate waves you make before setting it in the incense holder. 

The only part of your outfit that you had removed were your gloves and had exchanged your heels for slippers. It’s endearing, the way you sit on the couch with your drink, lamplight low and intimate. Kuroro’s thankful, in the end, that he was here. It felt a thousand times warmer here than it did at his apartment. 

Kuroro truly doesn’t know what’s come over him, what’s caused him to become so enamored with you. He is also at a complete loss at what he has to do to convince you to be around him all the time. Nonetheless, he had to get to the bottom of it. You were so… Indifferent around him. You didn’t care whether he stayed or went, but always invited him along. 

It was addicting. That’s the only description for how he feels towards you. 

“What do you want to listen to?” You ask. 

Kuroro shrugs. You settle for one of your playlists that isn’t too loud and isn’t too quiet.  Blends of classical and R&B that fill the air. 

He sits on the couch, legs spreading apart in front of him, and gestures to the collection of tarot books cluttering your coffee table. “Do you read?” 

The simplicity of the question causes your brows to furrow, and follow Kuroro’s motions to piece the sentence together. How did I forget? “Sometimes,” You decide on. 

Kuroro hums, “What sort of questions do you ask?” The glint in his eye has the implications you know it does. Two of Cups, Knight of Pentacles, the Lovers. 

“None of your concern,” You easily blow the question off, coming to sit next to Kuroro. Still in your dress, your legs slant to the side and you take a careful sip of your drink. You need to stop filling the glasses so high. 

“I only ask because I’m interested,” Kuroro reminds you. “I’ve always been fascinated with tarot.” 

You raise an eyebrow in interest. “Really? I should have guessed.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, you look like a tarot kind of guy.” 

“I didn’t think I was that easy to pin.” 

“You let me look at your star chart,” You explain, setting your drink down on the coffee table. You bunch your gown up some, so you can tuck your legs under yourself. Part of you desperately wants to go put on something more comfortable (literally), but the other part of you is enjoying the intimacy of the end of the night. 

Kuroro chuckles. “And now you know everything about me?” 

“I know a few things about you,” You say, smiling easily. “Jealous you can’t look at a circle and know all my secrets?” 

It absolutely does. Like a knife to his heart every moment of the day. “All I want to know is what is going on with whatever is influencing you to not be in a relationship.” 

As if you weren’t already. You didn’t have enough time to be in anything as committed as a relationship. You’d drop the ball too suddenly, as you always do. 

“Not a placement, angel, but simply work,” You say, sipping your drink again. 

“Hm,” Kuroro says, looking around your apartment. Takes in the art and the books pile on each other. He then looks back to you, admiring how relaxed you were at home. “Can I watch you read the cards?” 

Your gaze drags over to them. “I dunno, what do you want to know?” 

“That’s quite the open ended question.” Kuroro tips his head back to seriously ponder the question. There’s a crack in your ceiling that makes Kuroro slightly worried. “How about… Hm… Alright.” Kuroro looks back at you. “There’s this wonderful woman I’m talking to right now. How are things looking for us?” 

You can’t help but giggle. “Sounds like quite the predicament.” You take one last sip of your drink, before exchanging it for your tarot cards. The large cards shuffle easily in your hands, after the countless years of practice you’ve had. 

“It is,” Kuroro bemoans, “I need any guidance I can receive.”  

“I’ll do you, her, and you both. How does that sound?” You ask, knocking the cards three times before placing a little kiss to the deck, and then resuming your shuffling. 

“Sounds wonderful,” Kuroro says, watching with purse admiration  and fascination. The three cards all but slide out of your hands, and you look at them with interest. 

“Oh, this is interesting,” You say, “You’re the Chariot, she’s the Queen of Cups, and together the two of you are Death. It looks like no matter what happens there will be a lot of change and rebirth that happens.” 

“What does the Chariot mean?” Kuroro asks. 

“Success and victory,” You say, letting him look at the card but not touch. “He’s a king who is able to parade his triumphs around, and deserves it. The Queen of Cups on the other hand…” You can’t help but bite your bottom lip. “She’s a dream. A wife. A more traditional woman.” 

“Is she?” Kuroro asks. You nod. “Interesting…”

“But death is a good card. It brings a lot of good, healthy change. And it’s your card.” 

“My card?” 

“Scorpio card. Card of transformation and all that,” You say, adding the cards back to the deck. You shuffle them once more, and then set them back on the coffee table. 

Queen of Cups… it wasn’t a card you were used to seeing describe yourself. And you had a hard time believing there was another woman. Another force, yes, previous readings had said the same thing. But work can be a powerful force. 

Kuroro thinks that over, watching as you begin to take off your earrings. “Do you want some help?” 

You stop your fiddling and place your hands in your lap. “If you’re offering.” 

“Of course I am,” Kuroro says, setting his drink down and scooting closer on the couch. 

To keep him close, you rest your hand on his thigh. His fingers are feather light against the clasps of your jewelry, which he sets delicately in your hands. The jewelry is discarded on the coffee table with little clinks. Your legs extend out, opening up your chest to Kuroro. Much more inviting. 

Kuroro stays close by, letting his arm extend over the back of the couch as conversation drifts between you. Both of your drinks eventually end up empty. 

“Do you want another?” You ask. 

As much as Kuroro wants to say that he doesn’t, that he needs to drive home soon and leave you be, he doesn’t want to. He straightens out his arms to check the time on his watch. 22:34. 

“Do you have work in the morning?” He counters. 

“I have my yoga class in the morning…” You respond. 

Kuroro hums. He brings his hand down to rest upon your velvet clad hip. He glances up at you, through his lashes and directly into yours. 

“I don’t want to come in between you and that,” Kuroro says. 

“You wanna come with, pretty boy?” You ask, sliding your fingers through the little strands of hair at the nape of his neck. 

Kuroro chuckles, cheeks heating at the petname. “I don’t— Yoga really isn’t my style.”

“One more drink, then,” You say, tapping his wrist with your hand. He stands, holding his hand out for you. 

“I need to get out of this dress,” You say, restituating the garment as you stand. Kuroro’s eyes don’t miss the way the shuffle causes your breasts to shift and press against your chest before settling back into place within the dress. 

“If you dare trust me, I can make the drinks and you are more than welcome to change.” Normally you make the drinks, as you were particular about small things. Kuroro often only served wine. 

You contemplate his offer. “Okay, just don’t change the liquor.” 

“Yes ma’am,” Kuroro says, dipping down to give your hand a kiss, then your cheek. “Don’t take too long.” 

You don’t. Your dress gets laid out on the bed, discarded to be placed into its bag later. In its place, you settle for a large sleep shirt and slippers. Your jewels from the night join your jewelry box again, your hairpins into a pile on the counter of your bathroom. 

It feels like heaven when you’re able to run your acrylics along your scalp. Exiting your bedroom, you leave the door open. There’s no need to close it, no true need for privacy around Kuroro. He’d already touched your soul. 

Entering your kitchen, you stop in the entryway to fully process the scene in front of you. Kuroro, his back towards you, rooting around in your fridge. You come up behind him, running your fingers up and down his spine. 

It’s a little disappointing that Kuroro doesn’t react to the light touches. 

“I can’t find your simple syrup,” Kuroro says, frowning as he pushes around some condiments. 

You reach around him, opening up one of the drawers and pulling out a tupperware. “Right here, angel.”

Kuroro wraps his arm around you before you can go too far from him. Your kitchen is small, compact. There isn’t anywhere to go, but Kuroro still feels the need to pull you in. He doesn’t want to shout across the room. 

His compliment gets lost in your beauty. He’s fucked. 

“Wanna help me make them?” You ask, tilting your head to your side. “You’ll have to pay attention.” 

“I’m always paying attention,” Kuroro says. His thumb slides over the soft material of your shirt. 

“Mhm,” You say, unconvinced. One of your eyebrows raise, and Kuroro leans in to place a kiss against the incredulous gesture. A grin breaks across your face, relaxing the muscle immediately. 

With easy, rocking steps Kuroro is able to press you up against the counter, right next to where the drink ingredients lay. Your lower back hits the sharp of the granite counters, and his lips slide against yours, drinking in your little gasp of surprise. 

A familiar warmth shoots through you. It's always so easy to get lost in your memories and your dreams, to get a little ahead of the situation. But you’ve had a long day, you had champagne and now liquor, and there’s a gorgeous man backing you up against your kitchen counter, kissing you like there’s all the time in the world, and this is the one thing he wants to do. 

You set the tupperware of simple syrup on the counter, next to the shaker and the mint, not breaking the kiss. Your fingers thread through the hairs at the nape of Kuroro’s neck, dancing along the knot securing his tattoo covering. 

“Are you staying?” You whisper against his lips. 

“I don’t know, am I?” Kuroro asks, smile prevelant in his voice, 

For once, you don’t feel like formulating a witty comeback. No sharpness to bring him closer. “You’re more than welcome to if you’d like. But I can’t force you to stay.” 

“I’m sure you could,” Kuroro murmurs against your lips. “You could lock the door, you could chain me up—“

“Chain you up?” You laugh. “Will it really be that hard to keep you here?” 

Kuroro’s lips twitch into a fond smirk. “I’m just offering ideas.”

“Such an odd thing to suggest,” You hum. “I was just going to hope another drink would suffice…” 

“And it absolutely will,” Kuroro assures you. He places one more kiss to your lips, then to your forehead. “Will you trust me enough to make your drink this time?” 

“No, I’ve got it, I’m here now,” You say. Always a ‘control freak.’ Kuroro can’t help but chuckle lightly. 

Instead of taking his usual perch, leaning up against the counter, he lingers along your back. His hand is loose, sliding back and forth from hip to hip.

He keeps a careful watch as you make the drinks. One day you’ll let him make them. That he was sure of. You muddle blueberries with mint, add tonic water that you somehow never run out of. Spoon out simple syrup. Shake and pour over fresh ice. 

“Do you want something to eat?” You offer, handing Kuroro a glass. 

It's hilarious how quickly you can watch Kuroro’s thoughts turn dirty. Perhaps you should have made a martini with a splash of olive brine to match. You tilt your head to the side, a teasing smile weaving across your face. You reach up to ‘fix’ Kuroro’s collar, despite it not needing any help. 

“It would not be proper of me to ask,” Kuroro says, gently tugging your hand from his chest to his lips, placing a kiss against the pulse point. 

“Are you asking for cheese in a lactose intolerant lady’s home?” You ask, smiling wider. 

Kuroro can’t help but chuckle against your wrist, then against the palm of your hand. “You are impossible for me to flirt with, Ophelia.”

“What are you going to do? Chain me up?”

Kuroro’s eyes glint in the antique ceiling lighting of your kitchen. “Are you going to make it that hard for me?” 

With the leverage from his hand in yours, Kuroro pulls you closer. He has the foresight to set his drink down on the table. Instead, you purposefully tilt your glass towards him so the purple mixture trickles down the front of his shirt. 

“Oops,” You say, unremorsefully. You set your drink down on the counter. “Looks like you’ll have to take your shirt off.” 

Kuroro chuckles and shakes his head. He leans against the counter behind him. Your kitchen is a shotgun— barely an aisle between both counters. 

“If you want me shirtless so badly, you are more than welcome to help yourself.” 

Your bottom jaw drops in shock, and it takes a moment for you to collect your senses. You raise your hands up, showing off your five-day-old manicure. “I can’t, I just got my nails done.” 

Kuroro hums, taking your hand back into his, examining the nails. “I’m pretty sure I paid for these. If you mess them up, I’ll just do it again. I know how horrible buttons can treat dried nails.” 

His teasing causes a scowl to form across your face. You pull your hand out of his to pick up your drink, taking a sip of it. “Fine. Enjoy being wet.” 

Kuroro reaches next to you to pick up his drink, already undoing one of his buttons. “That sounds like something you‘re much better at than I am. Do you want to join me back on your couch?” 

“Let me get your shirt in the wash, first,” You offer. 

Intrigued, Kuroro raises his eyebrows. “Really?” 

With a soft, too-loving sigh, you begin to unbutton the now-soiled shirt. “I have no reason to be rude to you.” Your acrylics tap against each other as you undo the buttons, revealing the expanse of Kuroro’s chest, marred by an undershirt. You pull his shirt out from his slacks, and continue to undo the last button. Your hands slide across the planes of his chest to push the garment off his shoulder. 

With the shift in your hands, you begin to bunch up his undershirt around his bellybutton, pulling the front free from his pants. “Do you want something else to wear while your stuff is washing?” 

Kuroro pulls his shirt off, muscles flexing in the antique lighting. A little smile pulls at his lips, as he catches how your gaze lingers. You’re always lingering. 

“I don’t think I’ll get cold,” Kuroro says, “Let me keep you company.” 

You lead Kuroro to where your laundry machine is, back away in your closet. It’s a bit of a mess, but you lift the stack of towels off the washer and place them atop the dryer to be taken to the bathroom later. You take Kuroro’s shirt and lay it on the washer, applying a stain remover to it. Liquor stains were nothing new. 

As the machine begins, Kuroro turns you around to face him with his hands on your hips. You rest yours on his chest, heart thudding in your chest about how intimate the situation was. It’s so loud, in your ears, that you wonder if Kuroro can hear it too, in the small space. 

Lightly clearing your throat, you glance up at Kuroro, tilting your head back a bit. You’re able to see the sharpness of his jawline, admire the way he slowly tilts his head down to make eye contact. “Do you want to change out of these?” 

Your hands slowly slide down his chest, towards his waistband. As your thumbs narrowly dodge his hard nipples, you can feel his own heart under your hands. Your fingernails gently slide along his waistband, along the metal of his belt buckle. Kuroro’s abs tense for a moment before relaxing. 

“Would you like me to?” 

“It seems rude of me to not offer. I can’t imagine your slacks are very comfortable.”

There’s a brief moment, where Kuroro wonders if you’re also speaking of the growing harness in his trousers. And no, it was not comfortable. 

“Do you have anything for me to wear?” Kuroro asks. 

“I should have something, but you’ll have to give them back before you leave,” You say.

“Oh? Why’s that?” Kuroro asks, keeping you boxed against the rumbling washer. 

You bite your bottom lip before losing it to a devious smile. “Because I need them.” 

“You need them?” Kuroro asks, voice barely a murmur as he dips his head. “I’ll be sure to take good care of them.” 

He pulls away all too soon to let you go through your closet. Opening up one of your drawers, you retrieve the oversized pair of sweatpants and present them to Kuroro. He takes them with an amused look on his face, unfolding the maroon fabric. 

“You know, I’ve been looking for these.” 

“Have you?” You ask, pretending to look surprised. You don’t know how well it’s performing, but you assume it's not well. Kuroro’s eyebrows raise as he licks his lips to keep himself from smiling. 

“I have,” Kuroro says, his reluctant smile breaking through. He begins to undo his belt buckle. “I don’t remember leaving them here.” 

“Oh, that’s strange,” You say, trying to put as much distance between yourself and the topic. “If you want to, you can throw your pants in the wash too. I’ll be out in the living room.” 

You slip out of the room and head back into the kitchen, retrieving both drinks and setting them on the coffee table in the living room. While waiting for Kuroro, you find a throw blanket, one of your lightest, and drape it over your lower half, tucking your legs under your body. You also click on the TV, pulling up soft music for the background. 

When Kuroro finally makes his reappearance, there are a few strands of wet hair that frame his face, as if he’s splashed water on it. His tattoo is on display, which you’re quickly loving more and more than the first time you saw it. He remains shirtless, a simple, silver cross hanging around his neck like normal.

Kuroro pads across the room confidently and sits in the middle of the couch, pulling the throw blanket over his thighs, resting his feet on the coffee table. “I like your new hand soap.” The new soap addition smelt of roses and pumped out a little foam rose into your hand when you used it. 

“Thanks, I picked it up the other day at the grocery. Isn’t it fun?” 

Kuroro hums in agreement. He leans in, cupping your cheek with his still-chilled hand from the water. The rose scent lingers just slightly. You tilt your head back to refrain from opening your eyelids any more than you had to. 

There’s a constant question thrumming on the back of your mind. Kuroro is intoxicating, why were you so adamant about keeping him at arm's length?

Because he is intoxicating. Of course. It's always good to keep things far away that are a source of addiction.  

“Want you to spend the night,” You whisper. You close your eyes so you can only see the sliver of Kuroro’s cheeks. If you wanted to end the conversation, it wouldn’t take much more than a tip forwards to kiss him. “Been having weird dreams lately.” 

“Have you?” Kuroro asks, brow furrowing with slight worry. 

You nod. His thumb glides along your cheekbone. You rest fully into his hand, cheek smushing against his palm. 

“Alright, I’ll stay,” Kuroro murmurs. “You don’t need to convince me, though.” 

“I’m just telling you how I feel,” You say, swallowing the shy, scared lump in your throat. Emotions were so hard to convey, weren’t they? 

“I’m listening.” Kuroro’s lips slide against yours. The kiss starts off soft, gentle. With Kuroro’s hands tracing your hips, sliding down your sides and questioning your tummy, your back. 

You press into his space, encouraging him to lean back. The throw blanket creates a soft barrier between your panties and his sweatpants. It’s too thick to see if he kept his underwear on. Gods, you hope he didn’t. If he didn’t you wouldn’t be giving them back. 

Gently, Kuroro’s hands wander under your shirt. His fingers ghost over the hips of your cotton panties as if he’d never traced those lines before. They dip under your shirt, keeping a steady hold on your hips. Your lips move against his in careful, slow movements, always following Kuroro’s pace. One wrong move, and you worried he’d slip out of your fingers, despite Kuroro’s stickier fingers. 

Kuroro’s tongue swipes along your bottom lip, sweet and minty. All too quickly, you let his tongue tangle with yours. One of your hands twirls the strands of inky black hair in your fingers. You wonder if he dyes it. A light moan slips into your mouth from Kuroro’s as you lightly suck on his tongue before his bottom lip. 

You pull away with lidded eyes, to meet Kuroro’s wide-blown pupils. His eyes are so dark, like coffee beans, that they send a spark of energy through your body. Your heart thrums in your chest, Kuroro can feel it through the throw. He shifts in his seating, as if it’ll be embarrassing for you to discover how hard he is. 

He’s worried about how good it will feel when you start teasing him for it. 

Kuroro pulls away with expectant eyes that search yours, while his hands slide further and further up your body, inching your shirt up more and more. He exposes the crease of your thighs and hips, the barest hint of your mound, before the fabric falls back over his hands and bunches up at his wrists. 

You settle yourself fully in his lap, pressing your chest against his. In a daydream, moments ahead of you, you dream about the sensation of your nipples sliding against his smooth chest. Of the way your nipple piercings will slide and roll and electrify… 

You sigh into Kuroro’s mouth, one of your hands tracing their way down his neck, over the muscles, over the bump of the silver chain. A shiver rolls up his spine at the touches. Your chest presses against his, your hand splaying out on his collarbone, just below his neck. 

There isn’t enough fabric to conceal the way both of you are aching for the other. Throbbing sex pressing into the tent, not even the hardness yet of Kuroro’s cock. Everything is so warm. 

Neither of you push the other into the fire, instead gently kindling. Kuroro’s hands knead the fat of your thighs, grazing over your ass. You shiver under Kuroro’s fingers, as they move further up your spine, the other passing over your ribs.

You slowly roll your hips against Kuroro’s, exchanging soft groans against your tongues. His hand slowly slides to cup your breast, thumb gliding under the crease. A gentle sigh leaves your lips, slowly pulling back from the kiss. 

“You’re good, angel,” You whisper. With one bold hand, you take Kuroro’s wrist in yours and slide his hand all the way over your breast. His Adam's apple bobs as your nipple slides between his fingers, when the full weight of your breast sits in his hand. 

Kuroro pulls you close, lifting your shirt quickly so he could watch the way you fit in his palms. 

“Shameless.” Your voice is breathless, washing over Kuroro. His gaze moves from your chest to your eyes. He’s unable to hold your gaze for one moment, eyes dipping back down before fixing back upon yours with reverence. 

The two of you gravitate back towards each other. Kuroro slides your sleep shirt above your head with no resistance. Your arms wrap around Kuroro’s neck, nails sliding through his hair. As he rolls you onto your back, he slides his thigh between yours. He lets out a breathless sigh at the heat pooling from your pussy, from the way he can feel how your underwear grazes against your wetness like satin. 

Kuroro lowers his head from your lips down your jaw, tracing a path behind your ear, down your neck. He leaves heavy kisses along your pulse points, purposeful in their intent to stutter your gasps, their intent to have one of your legs clasp around his hip, tightening. 

His tongue swirls around your nipple, stoking the warm waves in your groin. His muscles ripple along his back as he lowers himself, placing more of his bodyweight on yours. There is no mistaking his erection, not with the way it nudges at your clit, slides so close to being between your folds. 

Kuroro’s movements remain firm and steady, confident in the way they make your body shake below him. His fingers dance around whichever nipple his mouth cannot attend to, his hips roll ever so slightly against your aching cunt. You stifle a moan, moving your hand from Kuroro’s hair to cover your mouth instead, facing away from him to try and hide it. 

“Ophelia…” Kuroro cups your face, turning your head back towards him, back so you had to look at him. He smiles softly, upon seeing your pretty eyes open for him. 

You give him a little whimper. He grinds the firmness of his cock against your heat again, so, so close to being perfect. It’s like torture. You know what he looks like, what she feels like. You want to taste the saltiness of his precum that dribbles onto a little pool, want to be able to see the way it collects at the uncut tip. 

“Princess…” The nickname is patronizing, with the way he tilts your chin back to look at him, out of your daydream. “Where’d you go?” 

You can’t help but bashfully look away again, despite Kuroro’s attempts to get your eyes to meet his again. 

A soft puff of air hits the shell of your ear, Kuroro exhaling, perhaps laughter, before your body is revealed to your apartment and Kuroro sits back. His hands slide up your stomach, your thighs. His thumbs press into the fat, encouraging you to let him just have a little look at the way your cute bedtime panties had a damp little spot on them. 

“Pense de toi,” You whisper, using your knee to urge Kuroro to come back to you, back to kissing you. He obliges, hand following the bend of your hip, your knee, slowly extending your leg, waiting for the muscles to shake, waiting for your knees to turn towards each other when he exposed you too much—

Instead, your shamelessness moves slowly. You gently guide his other hand to slide past the wetness of your panties, to gently tuck them to the side and expose the wetness slipping through the velvet folds. Kuroro’s mouth waters. The kiss he shares with you is smooth and slick, his tongue sliding along yours. 

As he pulls away slowly, there’s a strand of saliva that holds between the both of you. Before he can break it with his tongue, his fingers, you quickly reach up to grab his face, smooshing his cheeks together. Saliva collects on his tongue, and you can’t help but press your thumb against the muscle. 

Kuroro’s lips close around the digit slowly, before his head dips down, leaving sloppy kisses across your chest, at the hinge of your thigh. All he lets touch your pussy is cool air, and the occasional hot breath. Despite your little nudges with your thighs, Kuroro refuses and refuses. You can feel the way his teasing zips through your veins, with the little bites left here and there and—

It’s so unexpected, when Kuroro swipes a fat, wet line through the folds of your pussy, causes your hands to fly to his hair, for a moan to fly through your lips. You can’t cover it in time, and Kuroro smiles with pride. His tongue swirls around your clit a few times, before he brings his face level with your chest. He rolls the buds of your nipples, lets you drag your pussy across his still-covered cock. 

Both of your releases roll through you, ebbs and flow in an unexplainable synchronicity. They roll through your bodies, almost unnoticed by the unhurried pace you kept. 

It’s fine, though. You’re only able to continue your acquisition of Kuroro’s sleepwear if he continues to cum in it. Kuroro’s face is cute when it’s pink, when he’s whining your name into your neck and the two of you are left sticky and nearly connected. Nearly connected, because the condoms are in the bedroom and it feels too good to stop the rutting against each other. 

Kuroro makes sure you received your earlier wish, from in the car. That you’re able to shower in your own bathroom tonight. He joins you, enjoying the tighter fit and the eucalyptus and lavender. 

In all honesty, he just doesn’t want to have to stop touching. There’s soap and lotion  and he stands next to you while you both brush your teeth. His toothbrush hadn’t been put away yet from the last time he was there. 

In the light of your salt lamp, the room is filled with a warm glow. Freshly lit incense, lavender vanilla, fills the air. You have trouble sleeping without the same comforts every night. Kuroro doesn’t mind. Your bed is a thousand times more comfortable than his. He’s a welcome guest by this point

The brown noise machine whirs low in the background, keeping your eyelids opening and closing. Kuroro returns the long blinks, like little discreet messages of adoration. As if there was anything discreet about the way he felt for you.

Instead of your weighted blanket, you cuddle with Kuroro under the chill of your duvet and silk sheets. He shifts and tilts his head, creating a perfect spot for you to press your face against. You eagerly take up his offer, taking a deep, content breath as you press up against him, his hand around your back and pulling you closer. 

This was nice. Come morning, come time to get out of bed, he would be a gentleman again. There would be no more wandering hands, no more kisses given out liberally. Instead he’d politely drink your coffee, maybe give you a kiss on the cheek as he walked out of your apartment. 

You choose not to dwell on the future. 

[wonjns]

cockpit — j.ww drabble

♡ jeon wonwoo x male reader // nsfw

you had no idea how you managed to find yourself in this position, straddling the trouser strained thighs of the pilot in charge of flight 307.

suddenly the lifetime’s worth of teasing about aspiring to be a male air stewardess all felt worth it as the hands of jeon wonwoo, one of the youngest aviators in your airline, fervently palmed your throbbing member.

wonwoo’s lips never left the grooves of your collarbone as you peered down to catch a view of his large hand wedged into your uniform pants. the sight only solidified your blooming erection within the pilot’s hands, causing a low groan from him to vibrate throughout your skin.

arousal and adrenaline radiated throughout your nerves upon hearing the occasional beeps and boops of the control board your back was pressed against, fully aware that this wasn’t the most appropriate use of the plane’s autopilot feature.

you wanted to feel guilty, remembering you were only supposed to disappear for a couple minutes to retrieve a glass of water for a passenger in the 15th row, but after a week of built up tension you were practically putty in wonwoo’s hands as he pulled you into his quarters to create your own little mile high club.

you couldn’t resist it, he looked devilishly handsome.

the golden tassels decorating his wide shoulders and snug collar around his beautiful neck caused your mind to haze over as you watched your own tie fall to the floor, shortly followed by your vest... and then your pants. your hands buried in wonwoo’s midnight locks while he enthusiastically unbuttoned your shirt, allowing his supple lips and tongue to claim the expanse of your chest.

he teased your buds, nibbling them with his teeth, obsessed with the quiet mewls you fought for your life to keep in. you could only handle so much teasing before you were tugging his own pants down around his thighs, his length springing into action as you sunk down on it. you tore open his embellished blazer, the sight of his toned upper body making you moan too loud for comfort. you distracted yourself from the stretch of his girth by taking your turn to suck a path down wonwoo’s broad chest.

the universe’s timing couldn’t have been any more impeccable - the aircraft undergoing a batch of turbulence. the trembling caused you to bounce much rougher than intended, a synchronized cry leaving both of your throats. a pleasured sob freed itself from your lips as your leaking member dragged along his prominent abs - your climax meeting you in record time.

wonwoo’s head was thrown back into his cushioned chair as your warm arousal decorated his milky chest, and you bit back another moan seeing his exposed pecs rise and fall in unison with his adam’s apple. you sucked vigorously on the center of aforementioned adam’s apple, muffling a whimper when you felt wonwoo empty himself into you.

“more,” was all the older male could murmur before dragging your hips along his lap again, your still-erected core twitching from the overstimulation.

all thoughts of whenever the co-pilot could possibly return left your mind, eyes glossing over while staring into the lust-filled ones of the man before you.

cleaning up was clearly not an option, and row 15 would have to wait just a bit longer - wonwoo was still very determined to give the term cockpit a whole new meaning.

© 𝐟𝐥𝐰𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐢 — all rights reserved

HDHHSGSG pilot wonu, anyone?? i spiral everytime i see him in that uniform ughhhh lemme know what you think if u enjoyed it !! &lt;3

[arileartist]

Hello and a good day to everyone👋🏻👋🏻

This is something I'd like to write as a change. I've explored a lot more anime like idolish7, Haikyuu, Sasaki and Miyano, Horimiya, etc. and my writing prowess has expanded as well, in addition to the fact that I was assigned Literary club head where I currently am. I'm making oneshot-one liners of all my favourite characters from various anime for everyone to enjoy!

I hope you guys like this segment~

Pieces of my World

-Y/N

"A mesmerizing sky of shooting stars, where Ikuya makes you a promise, one that'll live on forever in the Dreamland that you both created. Let's cherish this moment, your presence as it is a gift for me...a comfort space just for the two of us?"

-For Ikuya kirishima

"It is only with you, Rin that I can see sights unseen and explore lands that I couldn't even think of going to... Drag me with your fierce passion and let's dive into an unexplored sea, engage the dreaded waters with a fiery passion, and our love will ignite the oceans"

-For Rin Matsuoka

"Ahhh the pink hair of yours, just like cotton candy, your words just like sugar too~ Kiss me lots and hold me in the embrace, oh so sweet~ We know that it's the two of us against the world, but the world is wrapped around your fingers isn't it? So let's go, turn this dark world into an amusement park, where the heavy hearted enter, and to happiness they embark....

-For Kisumi Shigino

"Yeah I'm still here, still the same, but ever so different.... In his closed moments, you opened the lock, his heart and pulled him out of the cage he put his soul within. He'll forever be yours, as long as you promise... Never shatter this fragile heart of glass.... For it is the only thing that'll reflect your beauty, even when shattered in a million fragments..."

-For Izumi Miyamura

"A gentle breeze passed me? Haha, I hope it made you look in my direction~ After all, everyone keeps telling me that my handsome face is the highlight of their day... But you know what? I want you to pull my face close to yours, stare at me in the eye, and tell me... What you truly see... For beneath this 'perfect' exterior.... I'm a human with my own desires too hehe~"

-For Akane Yanagi

"Hey! You forgot to tell him that you're okay, you took everything and that you're ready! Did you forget how much he cares for you? Now go, tell him that you love him. You love his little snack boxes. You love the tiny gifts he brings you. Every small 'forgotten' item is brought right to you by his gentle hands.... So you too should observe him.... His golden eyes often shed tears in darkness"

-For Koushi Sugawara

"You forgot about us didn't you? They asked. An unapologetic smile will definitely adorn your face as a symphony of chaotic voices lands on your ears. A pair of twins, a pair of blessings, oh who are these boys who once fought over blazers and goals? You walk towards them and nudge; for you'll never forget. They are the same boys who worked hard, failed, cried, got up, pushed and crossed limits of the court are no less valiant than diamonds in the sky"

-For Miya Twins

"Looking into his piercing eyes, you wondered if he really likes you. Time and again, he silently stood besides you, when you thought there was nobody there, that's when he shone.... His ever present gaze never letting you falter for even a moment... Is it an owl watching you from afar? Maybe a gift sent by the gods to ensure that your delicate happiness is ever lasting.... Will you accept this silent guardian?"

-For Keiji Akaashi

"The way he flirts with girls is infuriating. Can't you be the only one to receive his affection? Oh but you are... Once you see the smile on his face turned towards your gaze, you know.... He didn't give that smile to anyone... A view just for your eyes... Seeing him grow from a normal kid to a talented prodigy... No... He refuses to believe that 'talent' is what breeds success. He will capture what he wants, he will believe in his own cultivated strength and then, with his own two hands... He'll get all he wants.... But what if all he wants, is for you to believe in him..?"

-For Tooru Oikawa

"His laugh is attractive? Or is it his charisma? Oh well ... We never really knew why him.... But we did know..... We slipped and fell, and before we realised, we were in the grasp of this devious cat. His proud stance took us all by a whim, but his caring nature was what nested our love. Kuuro my man, what type of a monster are you? No... You're just another normal guy experiencing and riding the waves of life aren't you?"

-For Tetsurou Kuuro

"Oh we always loved your attitude. So relatable.... Wanting to be asleep, wanting to relax... But... If not you, then who else? Your brains carried your team, but more than that, your perseverance is what turned the tides in the moments of dire. Like a cat, you're quick to adapt using your devilish... Almost mischievous techniques.... aren't you too, addicted to the duality of the game you play?"

-For Kozume Kenma

"Call me perfect. Call me sharp tongued. Call me everything you want. In the end, I'll be the only one who stays and guides you to your destination.... That's what he said with his cool expression. Even though he's young, you can't help but feel extremely respectful towards this boy who's not afraid to correct you, and hold your hand to take you where you belong in this overcrowded world. He promised, you'll obtain the spotlight that everyone will see. Who else would be this devoted to you?"

-For Iori Izumi

"Careful with him! Take his hand softly and kiss it. He likes it. Rub his tears away, for he's soft...Osaka is his name, please remember it. Why you ask? Well, because he never forgets who he bows down to~ Oh don't worry, he's just a normal rich guy .... Don't believe it? Well then ask him about it. He'll like it. Ask him how his day was. He'll like it. Who else asks him about these things? Diamonds too hide themselves in the dirt of rocks."

-For Osaka Sougo

"Slimy? Untrustworthy? Intelligent is a better word. A child actor prodigy huh? Well what if his companionship is an act too? Or maybe he's pulling the strings on you~ The world is cruel place, so please don't be offended by his tongue, his repel....It's his defense mechanism.... Stay with him.... Take the ride. His friends will promise you that he too will anchor your heart one day"

-For Natsume Minami

[calciumcryptid]

Minetaverse | Eita Yaoyorozu

Eita Yaoyorozu, also known as Rave, is a secondary character in the Minetaverse. He is a first year heroics student at Ultra Academy training to become a pro hero. He later chooses to become an Idol Hero, and is cemented as a creating artist.

Eita Yaoyorozu is the son of Momo and Kyoka Yaoyorozu, and heir of the Yaoyorozu family along with the heir of Creation Agency.

APPEARANCE

Eita is a tall teenage boy with light brown skin and a slender build. He has triangular, relaxed onyx eyes with notably longer eyelashes and large eyebrows. His hair is shaved on both sides with a mohawk sticking up down the middle. His most prominent features are the flexible, plug-like earphone jacks hanging from each of his earlobes at the end of two thin cords. The cords act like extra limbs, and he is able to control them at will. They are very flexible, able to change length.

Eita's school uniform consists of a waistecoat instead of a blazer with the white undershirt ripped at the sleeves. He doesn't wear a tie, instead letting the buttons be open and free. He rotates between the assigned pants and skirt with black fishnets and other black leggings and designs. He wears spiked black boots with his uniform.

Eita's casual clothes consists of a black tank top with red roses over a black fishnet shirt. He wears a studded black leather jacket over that with black ripped jeans over fishnet leggings. He wears spiked black boots with his clothes along with several piercings over his body.

Eita's hero uniform is very similar to his mother's Hearing Heroine: Future Jack. It consists of a black leather jacket, purple crop top with several rips at the collar and hem, black pants with ripped jeans, and boots with stereos built in. He has a matching purple collar that counteract vibrations through his body. He has a pair of spiked black headphones, and black fingerless spiked clubs with wrist guards that he can plug his jacks into to boost attacks.

PERSONALITY

Eita Yaoyorozu has a pragmatic, unenthusiastic personality with a monotone voice dripping with sarcasm. He is a heavily guarded individual, choosing not to showcase his emotions often though his earlobes tend to emote for him.

Eita, like his mother and grandparents, is a fan of alternative music and owns and plays several instruments. He has a good stage presence and is unafraid to perform, turning into a completely different person when the spotlight shines on him. He gets flustered though when others brag about him, particularly his boyfriend Yoru Shouji.

ABILITIES

Melee Combat: Despite preferring attacking from a distance, Eita can hold his own in close quarters combat. He has two manchettes strapped to the back of his hero costume for those situations.

Musical Talent: Keita is able to play many instruments, and has a singing voice that is described as deep and husky but rolls through your eardrums like honey.

QUIRK

Musical Vibrations is Eita's primary quirk, giving him the ability to generate vibrations from his body. The strength of these vibrations depends on the pitch and frequency.

Earphone Jack is Eita's secondary quirk, a mutation that he inherited form his mother Kyoka Yaoyorozu. The quirk allows him to have a pair of headphone jacks hanging from her earlobes. When he plunges them into something he can channel his heartbeat through them in the form of vibration attack. He can stretch them several meters, and can hear miniscule sounds and vibrations from his surroundings.

STATISTICS

Power: 2/5

Speed: 3/5

Technique: 4/5

Intelligence: 5/5

Cooperativeness: 3/5

BACKGROUND

Eita Yaoyorozu was born to Momo and Kyoka Yaoyorozu, the pro heroes Everything Heroine: Creati and Hearing Heroine: Future Jack.

He was raised in the Yaoyorozu Manor, and naturally gravitated towards sound and his mother's music. He naturally started to consume information and was invested in the library.

When Eita Yaoyorozu was four years old, the KiriBaku Scandal happened with a public livestream of the custody trial between them. Afterwards, more scandals started to occur which caused a dark age in the heroics system.

Momo Yaoyorozu needed to show everyone that the Yaoyorozu family was strong, so she started to bring Eita to public events. Their relationship started to become more strained as Eita was expected to keep up public appearances.

Despite this, their relationship mended a bit after the Yaoyorozu's were expecting their second child. Eita was ecstatic, and when Latitia Yaoyorozu entered the world Eita spent every moment with her eagerly teaching her.

At first Latitia didn't talk, which was fine until she passed the age where toddlers start talking. When her quirk activated, they learned why. She can only speak through mimicking other voices.

This revelation caused a lot of attention to be placed on Latitia which caused Eita to be alienated from his family. He started to leave the manor for long periods of time and was photographed at concerts and other places.

Regardless, the Yaoyorozu family still sponsored Eita to become a heroics student at Ultra Academy. There Eita was placed into Class A-1, and started to date Yoru Shouji shortly before the Sports Festival.

RELATIONSHIPS

Shunsuke Mineta and Eita Yaoyorozu don't interact for most of the Minetaverse despite noting each other as classmates. Their first true interaction was after Shunsuke accepted a work study offer from Future Jack (Jirou Yaoyorozu). Eita warned Shunsuke that his mother only wants to take him on so she can keep an eye on him. Shunsuke blatantly ignores the warning.

Shunsuke is invited to dinner with the Yaoyorozu family, and finds that the family is feuding. Reminded of the orphanage, Shunsuke excuses himself from the situation.

Later in his designated room at the agency, Shunsuke finds Eita climb through the window. Apparently this room was Eita's escape, and his classmate takes the floor. Before they go to sleep, Eita asks Shunsuke why he accepted the offer. Shunsuke reveals he knew Future Jack's true intentions from the minute he received the form. He just hoped he could learn something even if it was through observation.

On a mission, Shunsuke is assigned to go with Creati but Future Jack insists that Shunsuke goes with her while Eita goes with Creati. Due to this, the mission is nearly botched due to the tension.

The next morning, Eita catches Shunsuke packing up and Shunsuke tells Eita that he is going to leave the work study early. Eita doesn't believe Shunsuke as he must remain if he wants to clear his name. Eita is shocked to learn that Shunsuke only cares about the money, and doesn't want to clear a name he didn't want in the first place.

Eita later learns Shunsuke went through with leaving the work study early, and comes to respect Shunsuke because of it.

Yoru Shouji and Eita Yaoyorozu start dating early on into their first year. They have a solid relationship, but Yoru finds Eita to be too closed off at times. Eita starts opening up after Shunsuke's work study.

Sakura Aishido: The two are amicable due to being friends when they were children, but Eita drifted away.

Levina Kaminari-Sero-Shishikura-Tetsutetsu: The two are amicable due to being friends when they were children, but Eita drifted away.

Orochi Ojiro-Rin-Shinsou: The two are on good terms as they are in the same friend group. They bonded through art.

Hiro Ito: The two are on good terms as they are in the same friend group. They bonded through art.

Nao Nakamura: The two are on good terms as they are in the same friend group. They bonded through art.

TRIVIA

Eita Yaoyorozu is fluent in Japanese, English, Korean, Chinese, and many other languages.

Eita Yaoyorozu's favorite thing is rocking out and listening to music at top volume.

Eita Yaoyorozu is bisexual.

Eita Yaoyorozu shares the same costume designer as Future Jack and Chargebolt.

In the early concepts, Eita was a part of a squad with Akihada Kirishima, Genkei Bakugou, Sakura Aishido, and Levina Kaminari-Sero-Shishikura-Tetsutetsu. This was changed due to new directions for the previously mentioned characters.

Taglist: @insomniac-jay @floof-ghostie @opalofoctober @pizzolisnacks @peachyblkdemonslayer

[latexskirts7]

Take Your Style to the Next Level with Latex Catsuits

Latex clothing has historically been a part of a bold, edgy fashion statement; latex catsuits are no exception. If you are looking for ways to take your style to the next level, a latex catsuit may be what you are missing from your wardrobe. With its dressy glossy finish and tight fit, a latex catsuit will help you stand out in any crowd. Here are some ideas on how to take your style to the next level with latex catsuits.

The Allure of Latex Clothing

Latex clothing, including latex catsuits, is alluring in a way that is difficult to resist. The material itself is shiny, almost like a wet look, and it glistens, reflecting the light to draw attention. Unlike other fabrics, latex clings tightly to the body, which emphasizes every curve and creates a beautiful silhouette. Whether you are attending a themed party, preparing for a night out at the club, or simply preparing to take a risk with your fashion choices, latex commands attention; it is daring and demands you to have a strong sense of cool confidence.

However, remember that reckless and daring fashion statements are great, but if you don't own the look, it's just a look. Nonetheless, it is not merely a matter of appearance. Latex also has a unique feel; once you step into a catsuit, you are not just wearing clothing; you are wearing a second skin which gives it an appealing sensation. For the fashion-forward, this element of feeling contributes to the obsession we have with latex.

Style Versatility

One of the great features of latex catsuits is that they are versatile; while they are usually considered alternative fashion, a latex catsuit can also easily transition to fit different occasions. You can wear a latex catsuit with a fitted blazer and high heels for a stylish, high-fashion look. You can add large accessories such as a wide belt and larger belt and jewelry to obtain statement art of an outfit intending to go dancing.

You can still utilize the latex catsuit in the world of casual clothing with different layering such as adding a long cardigan and/or oversized jacket on top. The combination of shiny latex and soft fabrics creates a unique contrast that will certainly intrigue you. However you style it, a latex catsuit will add additional surprise and thrill to your outfit.

Confidence Booster

Wearing a latex catsuit is more than just fashion; it's a confidence booster. There is something liberating about wearing such a closely fitted and eye-catching item. Latex catsuits are empowering because they make you feel strong, sensual, and capable. For this reason, wearing latex has been fashionable. When you feel good in something you wear that shows, regardless if you're walking down the street or refraining from a photo. A latex catsuit will let you feel sexy and confident on the outside.

Caring for Your Latex Catsuit

Again, if you are new to latex garments, you must know how to care for your latex catsuit to maximize its survivability. Latex is a sensitive material that requires care. Always use a silicone-based polish to maintain shine! Oil-based polishes should not be used with latex as this can ruin the material. When putting on your catsuit you should use a dressing aid (talcum powder or water-based lubricant) to assist you in putting it on and to keep the latex from tearing. You should wash your latex catsuit in lukewarm water using mild soap after you wear it, and air dry it in an area away from sunlight. With good maintenance, your latex catsuit will keep on being a coveted article of clothing for years to come.

Where to Wear a Latex Catsuit

Interested in showcasing your latex catsuit? The opportunities to do so are endless. At one time latex clothing seemed solely reserved for the runway or themed gatherings, but it is now being well-received in more mainstream fashion scenarios. A chic latex catsuit can be styled for fashionable parties, an entertaining music festival, or simply grabbing a dinner out with friends! For those willing to take a risk a latex catsuit can also be styled as playful daring pieces for everyday wear.

Conclusion: Make a Statement

A latex catsuit is not just an article of clothing - it’s a statement. Whether to turn heads, increase your confidence, or explore a new wardrobe experience, a latex catsuit will help you accomplish your style goals. The unique texture and striking appearance, unlike any other type of clothing, make a latex catsuit something you will want to have in your wardrobe for stylish endeavors. So why not give it a try and add a little latex to your closet?

[chromeheartshoodie4]

Unveiling the Allure of Chrome Hearts Hoodies A Fusion of Luxury and Street wear

In the ever-evolving landscape of fashion, where trends come and go, one brand stands out for its enduring appeal and distinctive style: Chrome Hearts. Renowned for its edgy designs, impeccable craftsmanship, and undeniable luxury, chrome hearts hoodie has captured the hearts of fashion enthusiasts around the globe. Among its iconic pieces, the Chrome Hearts hoodie holds a special place, seamlessly blending high-end sophistication with urban streetwear vibes.

At first glance, a Chrome Hearts hoodie exudes a sense of effortless coolness. Crafted from premium materials such as soft cotton or plush fleece, each hoodie boasts superior quality and comfort. But what truly sets it apart are the intricate details that adorn every inch of fabric. From bold graphic prints to intricate embroidery, Chrome Hearts hoodies are a canvas for artistic expression, reflecting the brand's rebellious spirit and avant-garde aesthetic.

One of the most distinctive features of a Chrome Hearts hoodie is its signature cross motif. Often emblazoned prominently across the chest or back, the Chrome Hearts cross has become synonymous with the brand's identity, symbolizing a fusion of spirituality, individuality, and rock 'n' roll attitude. Whether rendered in gleaming metal studs or intricately stitched embroidery, the cross adds a touch of subversive glamour to the hoodie, elevating it from a mere garment to a coveted fashion statement.

But beyond its striking visuals, a Chrome Hearts hoodie embodies a lifestyle—an attitude that transcends fashion trends. It's not just about what you wear, but how you wear it. Whether paired with distressed denim and leather boots for a ruggedly chic look or layered under a tailored blazer for a high-low juxtaposition, the versatility of a Chrome Hearts hoodie knows no bounds. It effortlessly bridges the gap between luxury and streetwear, catering to a diverse audience of fashion aficionados and tastemakers.

Moreover, the exclusivity factor adds to the allure of Chrome Hearts hoodies. Produced in limited quantities and often available only at select retailers or directly through the brand's boutiques, owning a piece from Chrome Hearts is like gaining entry into an elite club of fashion insiders. Each hoodie becomes a coveted collector's item, sought after by those who appreciate fine craftsmanship and distinctive design.

In a world where fashion can sometimes feel disposable, Chrome Hearts offers a refreshing alternative—a timeless aesthetic that defies fleeting trends and celebrates individuality. A Chrome Hearts hoodie isn't just a garment; it's a symbol of self-expression, rebellion, and uncompromising style. It's a reminder that true luxury isn't just about logos or labels, but about the artistry and craftsmanship that goes into creating something truly extraordinary. So, whether you're strolling down city streets or commanding attention at a VIP event, let your Chrome Hearts hoodie be your statement piece—a testament to your impeccable taste and unapologetic attitude.

[cliftonclothing]

The Tait Custom Velvet Blazer is a stunning blazer that is custom-made to your exact specifications. Its hand-tailored production has been carefully considered down to the last detail; ensuring that this velvet blazer will endure time with class and durability. Our accomplished group of designers have consummated their art over many years and are prepared to change your customized dream into a reality.

You can express yourself year-round with velvet fabric in summerweight or year-round weight facing. You can choose what suits you best, right down to the last detail, such as the colors of the body and lining, whether it has a single or double-breasted closure, notch, lapel, or shawl collar. And if that weren't enough, you can personalize it even more by adding your logo, individual names, chest and side pockets, buttonholes and buttons, bottle openers, chest darts or epaulets, and shoulder padding! For that extra-special arrangement, you can even mix and match sizes for men and women.

Design Your Own Hawaiian Shirt Create Your Own Club Blazers

[vipwees]

Retro Revival: Embrace the Nostalgia with Unique 80s and 90s T-Shirts | vipwees

Do you find yourself reminiscing about the good old days when neon colors, cassette tapes, and scrunchies were all the rage? Well, it's time to dive into a time machine and rediscover the magic of the 80s and 90s with unique retro t-shirts.

The Nostalgic Appeal of the 80s and 90s 

The 80s and 90s were remarkable decades, each leaving its indelible mark on pop culture. From iconic fashion trends to memorable movies, music, and television shows, these years exude a unique charm that continues to captivate generations. Here's why these decades hold a special place in our hearts:

Fashion Evolution: The 80s brought us bold fashion statements with oversized blazers, leg warmers, and neon everything. The 90s, on the other hand, introduced grunge with flannel shirts and baggy jeans. Both decades had distinct styles that continue to influence fashion today.

Classic Movies and TV Shows: The 80s gave us beloved classics like "E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial," "The Breakfast Club," and "Back to the Future." The 90s brought us iconic TV shows like "Friends," "The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air," and "The X-Files."

Memorable Music: The 80s were synonymous with iconic bands like Queen, Michael Jackson, and Madonna. The 90s delivered the rise of hip-hop, grunge, and boy bands, making it a diverse musical era. 

Video Game Revolution: The 80s and 90s were pivotal in the evolution of video games. Gamers from those decades cherish titles like "Pac-Man," "Super Mario," "Sonic the Hedgehog," and "The Legend of Zelda."

Unique 80s and 90s T-Shirts: Where to Find Them

If you're eager to relive the magic of the 80s and 90s through fashion, there are plenty of options to consider. Here's where you can find unique retro t-shirts that pay homage to these iconic decades:

Vintage Clothing Stores: Explore local vintage shops or online stores specializing in retro fashion. You'll discover a treasure trove of authentic 80s and 90s t-shirts with unique designs.

Online Marketplaces: Websites like Etsy and eBay often feature sellers offering vintage or vintage-inspired t-shirts. You can find a wide range of designs that capture the essence of these decades.

Custom T-Shirt Printing: Consider creating your own custom 80s or 90s t-shirt. You can choose your favorite quotes, characters, or references from the era and have them printed on a shirt of your choice.

Niche Retailers: Some specialty retailers focus exclusively on retro and nostalgia-themed clothing. They curate unique designs that cater to fans of the 80s and 90s.

Nostalgia for the 80s and 90s is as strong as ever, and what better way to embrace it than with unique retro t-shirts? These t-shirts allow you to carry a piece of those iconic decades with you, whether it's the fashion, movies, music, or video games. So, go ahead and celebrate the magic of the past by adding some 80s and 90s flair to your wardrobe.

Visit : https://vipwees.co.uk/collections/action/Action

[preppythingsinc]

What Do Preppy People Wear?

Introduction to preppy fashion

Welcome to the world of preppy fashion, where timeless style and sophistication come together in a perfectly tailored package. Whether you're an avid follower of trends or simply appreciate a classic look, preppy fashion offers a wardrobe that exudes elegance and refinement. But what exactly does it mean to be "preppy"? For many, this term conjures images of Ivy League campuses, yacht clubs, and weekend trips to the Hamptons. It's a style that is both effortlessly chic and undeniably polished. In this blog post, we'll delve into the history and origins of preppy fashion, explore key elements of a preppy wardrobe for both men and women, and provide tips on how to incorporate this timeless style into your own closet. So grab your favorite cable knit sweater and let's dive right in!

The history and origins of preppy fashion

Preppy fashion, with its timeless and sophisticated aesthetic, has a rich history rooted in Ivy League campuses and the elite social circles of the early 20th century. Originating from the "preparatory schools" attended by upper-class students preparing for college, this style became synonymous with privilege and refinement. In the 1920s and 1930s, preppy fashion emerged as a rebellion against formal Victorian attire. It embraced more relaxed clothing choices while maintaining an air of elegance. The iconic polo shirts, cable-knit sweaters, chinos, and boat shoes were all staples of this distinct style. The popularity of preppy fashion skyrocketed in the post-World War II era when returning soldiers sought to adopt a polished look that exuded sophistication. This trend gained further momentum during the 1980s when movies like "Dead Poets Society" showcased prep school aesthetics on screen. Today, preppy fashion continues to be celebrated for its clean lines, classic silhouettes,and attention to detail. From tailored blazers to crisp button-down shirts and pleated skirts,the elements of a preppy wardrobe remain consistent over time. While originally associated primarily with men's fashion,women quickly embraced this refined style as well. With influences from icons like Audrey Hepburnand Jackie Kennedy Onassis,feminine touches such as pearls,polo dresses,and Bermuda shorts became synonymous with Preppiness. Incorporating preppy style into your own wardrobe can be done effortlessly by incorporating key pieces like striped tops,cable knit sweaters,khaki pants or skirts,and loafers. Subtle pops of color through accessories like silk scarves or ribbon belts add an extra touch of flair without straying far from tradition. Whether you're attending a garden party or heading to work,a dash of prep will always provide an effortless,elegant look. As trends come and go,the enduring appeal of preppy fashion lies within its ability to withstand passing fads and remain eternally stylish.

read more: What Is Preppy Style?

Key elements of a preppy wardrobe

When it comes to preppy fashion, there are certain key elements that every wardrobe should include. These timeless pieces not only exude sophistication but also create a sense of effortless style. So, what exactly are these key elements? First and foremost, you can't go wrong with a classic polo shirt. This versatile piece is perfect for both casual and dressier occasions. Pair it with khaki pants or shorts for a more laid-back look or tuck it into tailored trousers for a polished ensemble. Another essential item is the iconic cable-knit sweater. Whether in neutral tones or vibrant colors, this cozy knitwear adds instant elegance to any outfit. Layer it over a collared shirt or wear it on its own for an effortlessly chic look. No preppy wardrobe would be complete without some well-fitted chinos. Their clean lines and refined silhouette make them suitable for various occasions, from work to weekend brunches. Opt for traditional colors like navy blue or khaki, and don't forget about the power of pastels during warmer seasons. A must-have accessory in any preppy wardrobe is the boat shoes - comfortable yet stylish footwear that complements almost any outfit choice. For women, ballet flats are equally essential as they offer both comfort and versatility. No preppy ensemble would be complete without incorporating accessories such as pearl earrings or necklaces for women and silk ties or pocket squares for men. By incorporating these key elements into your wardrobe, you can effortlessly achieve the sophisticated yet relaxed aesthetic that defines preppy fashion. Remember to mix and match these classic pieces with modern trends to personalize your style while still embracing the essence of preppiness!

Classic preppy clothing items for men and women

When it comes to preppy fashion, there are certain clothing items that have become timeless staples in both men's and women's wardrobes. These pieces not only exude a sense of sophistication but also embody the relaxed yet refined aesthetic that defines preppy style. For men, key elements of a classic preppy wardrobe include tailored blazers, crisp button-down shirts, khaki pants or chinos, and boat shoes. These items can be mixed and matched to create effortlessly polished looks. Pairing a navy blazer with a light blue shirt and khaki pants instantly elevates any outfit. Women can embrace their inner prep with essential pieces like shift dresses, cable-knit sweaters, pleated skirts, and penny loafers. A shift dress in a vibrant color paired with ballet flats creates an easy yet elegant ensemble perfect for brunch or casual gatherings. Accessories also play an important role in completing the preppy look. For men, this may include silk ties or bowties in playful patterns such as stripes or polka dots. Women can add statement pearl necklaces or headbands adorned with bows to enhance their outfits. Incorporating these classic preppy clothing items into your own wardrobe allows you to achieve a sophisticated yet approachable style that never goes out of fashion. By choosing quality pieces made from materials such as cotton or cashmere, you'll ensure longevity while maintaining comfort. Preppy fashion is all about embracing tradition while adding personal touches through colors and patterns. Whether you opt for pastel hues inspired by New England summers or bold prints like nautical stripes reminiscent of coastal living, make sure your choices reflect your individual style. Remember that confidence is key when it comes to rocking the preppy look. Embrace the clean lines and tailored silhouettes characteristic of this style while injecting your personality into every ensemble. By investing in timeless classics and experimenting with modern twists, you'll create a wardrobe that effortlessly exudes preppy charm. So, channel your inner prep and enjoy the timeless elegance of these wardrobe staples.

How to incorporate preppy style into your own wardrobe

When it comes to incorporating preppy style into your own wardrobe, there are a few key elements to keep in mind. First and foremost, invest in quality pieces that have a timeless appeal. Look for classic silhouettes and patterns like plaid, stripes, and argyle. For men, start with the basics: a crisp button-down shirt paired with tailored chinos or khakis. Add a navy blazer for an extra touch of sophistication. Don't forget the accessories - a leather belt and loafers will complete the look perfectly. Ladies can opt for feminine dresses or skirts in pastel shades or bold prints. Pair them with cardigans or cable-knit sweaters for those cooler days. And of course, no preppy outfit is complete without the iconic pearl necklace or statement earrings. Mixing textures is another way to add depth to your preppy style. Try pairing a tweed blazer with corduroy pants, or layering cashmere over silk for an effortlessly chic look. Remember that preppy fashion isn't just about the clothes you wear but also about how you carry yourself. Confidence is key! So stand tall and embrace this timeless style with pride. Incorporating preppy style into your wardrobe doesn't mean abandoning your personal taste; it's all about adding touches here and there that reflect this iconic fashion trend while still staying true to who you are as an individual. So go ahead and explore the world of preppy fashion - experiment with colors, patterns, and textures until you find what works best for you. And most importantly, have fun expressing yourself through your clothing choices!

Final thoughts on the timeless appeal of preppy fashion

Preppy fashion has stood the test of time and continues to be a style that exudes refinement, elegance, and sophistication. Whether you're attending a casual brunch with friends or a formal event, incorporating elements of preppy style into your wardrobe can elevate your look and make you feel confident. One of the key reasons why preppy fashion remains popular is its versatility. The classic clothing items such as polo shirts, blazers, khaki pants, and loafers can be easily mixed and matched to create various outfits for different occasions. This makes it an ideal choice for those who value both style and functionality. Furthermore, preppy fashion allows individuals to express their personality through subtle details and accessories. From colorful bow ties to patterned pocket squares, there are endless opportunities to add personal flair while still maintaining the overall polished aesthetic. Apart from its timeless appeal in terms of aesthetics, preppy fashion also embodies certain values that resonate with many people. The emphasis on tradition, education, etiquette, and respect creates an aura of sophistication that goes beyond just clothing choices. It reflects a mindset focused on excellence in all aspects of life. In today's fast-paced world where trends come and go quickly, preppy fashion offers stability amidst the ever-changing landscape of style. It provides a sense of continuity by drawing inspiration from classic pieces that have remained relevant throughout generations. While some may view preppy fashion as exclusive or elitist due to its association with Ivy League schools or affluent backgrounds, it is important to remember that anyone can embrace this style regardless of their background or social status. Preppiness is not about how much money one has but rather about embracing clean lines, tailored fits, quality materials,and attention to detail.

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[clubcolor]

club colours

Since 1879 club colours has been specializing in producing sports club apparel including; club blazers, club ties and cricket sweaters. Our UK based tailors will produce quality garments to your design that will truly make your club members stand out from the crowd.If you have a design in mind, we can help you to become a reality. If you haven’t got a design in mind then our sports club clothing suppliers can liaise with you to help create your own unique customized sports clothing.We offer a choice of materials to suit every budget. contact our own team today.

Address:17, Brookhouse Bus Park, Hadleigh Road Ind Est, Ipswich IP2 0EF, UK

Telephone:+44 1473 231378

E-mail: alan@clubcolours.co.uk

Website: www.clubcolours.co.uk

[osiiinikeboy]

10 Super Easy, Quick And Elegant Diy ChestBinders That Are Perfect For A night Out!

Anyway, what is accepted and accepted by people is diy chest binders.

What’s the point of buying a designer piece if you can’t wear it out? That’s why we’ve put together this list of ten super easy, quick and elegant DIY chestbinders that are perfect for a night out! Whether you’re hitting up a club or just want to look polished and put-together, these chestbinders will have you looking your best in no time. So, go ahead and add one to your outfit plan for next week!

How to wear a chest binder

There are a few things you'll need to do in order to make wearing a chest binder easy and stylish. First, gather the materials you need: either an old T-shirt or shirt that's too large for you and some scissors, or a fabric seamstress' cutter. Cut the T-shirt or shirt into a snug fitting undershirt-style top and bottom. Second, find a comfortable chest binder to wear. There are many different styles on the market, so find one that fits your body type and style. Third, take some time to adjust the binder so it's perfectly fitted. Make sure it's tight enough to keep your breasts contained but not too tight that it causes pain or discomfort. Finally, find some clothes that will work well with your new chest binder. A blazer or cardigan can be perfect for adding extra warmth if needed, as well as skirts that aren't too short or tight around the waistline.

10 Best tips for making your own chest binders

When it comes to nightwear, there are a lot of choices available. From lace bras and panties to gathered tank tops and halter necklines, the list goes on and on. But what if you don’t want all of the fuss? What if you just want something easy, something that looks great and is comfortable? One option is to make your own chest binders. These bindings are easy to put on and take off, making them perfect for a night out. Here are some tips for creating your own binders: 1) Pick a fabric that you love. Whether you choose cotton or silk, make sure that the fabric feels soft against your skin. You'll also want to be sure that the fabric doesn't ravel easily so that it stays looking neat. 2) Cut out your binding strips using a long hemming scissors or a rotary cutter. Make sure that the width of the strip is about 1 inch wider than the circumference of your chest (measured around the fullest part of your bust). For example, if your bust size is 38 inches around, then your binding strip should be about 42 inches wide (1 inch + 2 inches = 42). 3) Sew the strips together at an angle, overlapping slightly as you go. Use a zigzag stitch to help prevent fraying. Once you've sewn all of the strips together, press lightly so that the seams lay flat against each other. 4

Conclusion

In today's roundup, we have 10 amazing and easy chest binders that will make for the perfect night out. From ties to bows, each one is simple but stylish and can easily be put together in just a few minutes. Whether you're looking for something special to wear on a date or simply need an extra layer of security while out socialising, these binders are sure to come in handy. So if you're feeling a little shy about your chest, give these DIYs a try - you won't regret it!

[laresearchette]

Tuesday, December 06, 2022 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES? THE CHECKUP WITH DR. DAVID AGUS  (Paramount +) LIAM GALLAGHER: KNEBWORTH 22  (Paramount +) 2022 PEOPLE’S CHOICE AWARDS (E! Canada) 9:00pm UNVEILED: SURVIVING LA LUZ DEL MUNDO (HBO Canada) 9:00pm

WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT BERING SEA GOLD (TBD - Discovery Canada)

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

AMAZON PRIME CANADA THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN (2016)

CRAVE TV UNVEILED: SURVIVING LA LUZ DEL MUNDO (Episodes 1-3)

NETFLIX CANADA THE BOSS BABY: CHRISTMAS BONUS DELIVERY BY CHRISTMAS SEBASTIAN MANISCALCO: IS IT ME?

FIFA WORLD CUP SOCCER (TSN/TSN3/TSN4/TSN5) 9:45am: Round of 16: Morocco vs. Spain (TSN/TSN3/TSN4/TSN5) 1:45pm: Round of 16: Portugal vs. Switzerland (TSN) 8:00pm: Match of the Day

NHL HOCKEY (SN) 7:00pm: Red Wings vs. Lightning (TSN5) 7:00pm: Kings vs. Sens (TSN3) 8:00pm: Panthers vs. Jets (SNOntario) 8:30pm: Leafs vs. Stars (TSN2) 10:00pm: Habs vs. Kraken

NBA BASKETBALL (TSN4/TSN5) 7:30pm: Pistons vs. Heat (SN1) 7:30pm: Lakers vs. Caveliers (TSN4/TSN5) 10:00pm: Clippers vs. Trail Blazers (SN1) 10:00pm: Mavericks vs. Nuggets

CORONATION STREET: SOAPY SLIP UPS (CBC) 8:00pm: The stars will spill the beans, the tea and even the straws on Coronation Street catastrophes.

CHRISTMAS IN ROCKWELL (City TV) 8:00pm: A big Hollywood actress returns to her hometown and meets a handsome theater manager. He enlists her to participate in the Christmas play, but it threatens to bring the chaos of Hollywood to their small town.

MARY MAKES IT EASY (CTV Life) 8:00pm: Celebrating the "veg life" with Mary's meatless recipes that are so much more than a bowl of greens.

CANDIFIED: HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS (Food Network Canada) 8:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE):  Jackie Sorkin, the Candy Queen, and her team of candy artists are challenged to build a life-size candy house in six weeks; with the clock ticking, they tackle the kids room first and turn it into a candy, winter wonderland.

MERRY CHRISTMAS MR. BEAN (CBC) 8:30pm: An excited Mr. Bean makes friends with a Salvation Army band and buys the tallest tree he can find at Christmas time.

DINE YOUR SIGN (CTV Life) 8:30pm: Chef Siobhan Detkavich cooks for Aquarius, an Air Sign with a ruling planet of Uranus.

SORT OF... (CBC) 9:00pm/9:30pm (SEASON FINALE):  On the eve of the opening of the new club-gallery, a moment between Bessy and Sabi creates tension in their relationship.  In Episode Two, A family crisis causes Sabi to confront unresolved feelings towards their father.

MEAN MUMS (APTN) 9:00pm: Jess must navigate her son's primary school world filled with other mothers keen on advancing their children's futures.

MY LOTTERY DREAM HOME (HGTV Canada) 9:00pm/9:30pm (SEASON PREMIERE):  A Bosnian couple has been living the American dream for over 20 years, and their luck continues after scratching up a $100,000 win; David helps the couple upgrade and search for a larger home in Grimes, Iowa.  In Episode Two, a bingo player who won a $60,000 jackpot is making a down payment on a home closer to her best friend in Phoenix; David Bromstad joins these lifelong pals as they search for a home with a spare room for sleepovers and extra space for entertaining.

LAKEFRONT BARGAIN HUNT: RENOVATION (Magnolia Canada) 9:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): After one trip to Lake Tillery, North Carolina, a couple decides to buy a lakefront vacation home there as an easy escape from their busy city lifestyle; they hope to put their own touch on a home where they can entertain family and friends.

HEAD HIGH (APTN) 10:00pm: It's the day of the 1A finals and everyone must decide which team they are on; Vince urges Mana to forget about his girl trouble and channel his frustration into rugby; Renee makes a difficult decision about her future.

[avecra]

Deception - 3

series summary: In order to save your father from an unnecessary fight, you force yourself into an arranged marriage with Brock Rumlow. But when he threatens your father over a small mistake on your part, you find yourself in front of your husband’s biggest rival and your old friend, Bucky Barnes. With the shared history between the two of you, Bucky finds himself drawn to you once again, and will risk everything he has just to keep you safe.

pairing: mob!bucky x stark!reader

word count: 4.5k 

chapter warnings: canon level violence (in flashback), angst, bucky being a sweetheart

series masterlist // next chapter

Bucky Barnes had lived an interesting life. Being the firstborn to George and Winnifred Barnes, being the older brother to Rebecca Barnes, being the heir to his father’s company. Even after the sudden passing of his father, and the company falling into his hands, interesting events never ceased. 

From the age of nineteen, Bucky had one goal in life, and that was to be the best. Be the best when it comes to schoolwork, be the best when it comes to sports, and be the best when it comes to life. That was his father’s motto, and now it was his. 

Even as a young boy, Bucky knew that he would have to take on the responsibilities that his father held, it was inevitable. Despite what he initially thought when he was a teenager, he took on the reins surprisingly easily. 

With the partnership and mentorship of Tony Stark, he took over and covered for his late father and built an empire from scraps. Built a club where he handled his business. Built borders and signed treaties. Built partnerships and created enemies. 

Alexander Pierce was his main adversary. The head of Hydra was a big one, but after Pierce’s untimely death, Brock Rumlow took his place. And he proved himself to be quite literally the biggest pain in Bucky’s back. 

Rumlow had been on his ass for nearly the past seven years. Considering him and Bucky were pretty close in age, it was a rivalry that never ended - not until one of them ended in a body bag. 

Whereas Bucky relied on his men and cared about their wellbeing, Rumlow did not. He could care less if Rollins caught a bullet in the forehead, or if Ward was run down by an enemy driving a black Escalade. 

That was the difference between the two men; Rumlow’s men just worked for him, Bucky’s felt like his family. They may have been in the same dark business, but there was a visible difference between the two men. 

Stepping into the dark club, Bucky ran a hand through his hair, wincing at the small knots his fingers caught. He shook off his black blazer and threw it over the back of a velvet chair and sank down onto a stool at the bar, reaching over the counter to grab a bottle of vodka. 

“You have to pay for that, y’know.”

Bucky twisted off the cap and poured the clear liquor into a glass. 

“Not if I own the club.” he replied, taking a slow sip. 

He looked over across the bar, rolling his eyes at Sam Wilson, one his most trusted and close friends. He glanced down at his watch, noticing the time was nearing seven.

“You think she’ll show up?”

Bucky heaved out a sigh, leaning his elbows on the bartop. “Yes. She sounded distressed on the phone yesterday, and I’ve known her for most of my life. It’s just a matter of her sneaking out.”

Sam hummed, taking a glance around the club. The dark lighting made it nearly impossible for anyone to see anything, but Sam spent nearly every day and night in the bar. He glanced back at Bucky, curiously cocking his head. 

But before he could say anything, Bucky abruptly stood up, throwing back his vodka before sliding off the stool. He looked over to Sam, giving him a tight-lipped smile. 

“Just send her in when she gets here.” 

He didn’t spare a look to his friend as he made his way up the spiral staircase towards his office. Shutting the door, Bucky sank down in the chair and pulled his phone out of his pocket, placing it upwards on the desk. 

He tapped the screen a few times, hoping to see a message from you, but his screen came up empty, just the screensaver of his dog when she was a pup. A tired sigh left his lips and he dragged his hand down his face, blue eyes roaming over his desk until they settled on the picture of the two of you. 

Bucky plucked the picture frame off where it sat and held it in his hands, and the corners of his mouth lifted it up slightly. It was a picture of the two of you leaning against each other, your arm wrapped around his bicep as you leaned your head against his shoulder. 

His eyes drifted down to the fresh scar that was just below your left temple, and he had almost an identical one, except his was below his right eye. Bucky bit his lip, furrowing his brows as he recalled the memory that left him petrified for almost a month. 

A piercing ringing sound was the only thing Bucky heard when he came to. Opening his eyes, he blinked his eyes to get rid of the blurriness to see the back of the limo completely wrecked; windows cracked, shards of glass covering the floors, the two backpacks filled with clothing that were now scattered everywhere. 

Bucky glanced around fumbling for his phone, and when he saw you on the other side of the limo, his heart nearly bursted out of his chest. Sprawled on your side with your head resting at an awkward angle, your eyes were shut and the side of your face was coated in crimson from the bleeding gash on your temple. 

“Y-Y/n?” Bucky’s voice nearly broke as he crawled over to you, carefully placing your head in his lap. “C’mon, open your eyes. Please, we gotta get to the safehouse, Y/n/n.” 

Your head lolled against his lap and Bucky looked through the partition to see the driver’s head laid back. Panic settled into his veins as he pulled out his phone , fingers trembling and all, and dialed his father’s number, shakily holding the phone to his ear. 

His hand shook as it found purchase on your face, eyes wide as his father answered on the other line. 

“James? What’s wrong-”

“Dad, I - fuck… I don’t know who hit us, but we’re stranded on the side of the road,” Bucky said, looking through the cracked window to see a stranded black SUV with a dented bumper and cracked headlights. “There’s a black car across the road.” 

“Are you and Y/n okay?” George asked, and Bucky heard the crack in his father’s voice, something he hardly heard. 

His father was a stoic man and had only seen him tear up a few times, but this was a whole new situation. One where his son and the daughter of his closest friend’s life were in danger. His tough facade slowly cracked as he heard his son’s fearful voice. 

“No, Y/n she’s…” he looked down and swallowed thickly. You hadn’t moved an inch, and that made him worry even more. “Dad, her head is bleeding a lot, and she’s not waking up.” 

“Okay, okay, don’t panic. Hayes and I are on the way to you guys, just give us a couple of minutes, son.” 

There was a muffled conversation on the other end, but Bucky could only focus on you, on the limpness of your body. He shakily held his fingers to your neck, sighing in relief when he felt the faint pulse. 

“Is there anyone around you? Any movement from the car?” 

Bucky reluctantly moved his eyes from you to the black car, focusing on the dented bumper. There was a slight movement that caught his eye; the passenger door struggled to open, and it wasn’t until a loud banging sound came from inside the car. 

“You just hit Barnes’ car! The car that is holding his son, are you out of your fucking mind?!”

Bucky sunk lower, shielding your body with his as he watched two men stagger out of the car. The two continued to bicker with each other and Bucky watched with fearful eyes as one pulled a gun out from the waistband of his pants.

“There’s two guys that just came out of the car arguing,” he whispered into the receiver. “One of them has a gun.”

The two men continued to bicker loudly, waving their hands and arms dramatically, but Bucky could only focus on you. 

“We’re getting closer, just hang tight for a little while longer, James.”

His father’s voice was nothing but a murmur, but he muttered a ‘uh-uh’ back. He was too concentrated on you, noticing how your eyelids began to flutter. A small, quiet whine passed through your dry chapped lips, and Bucky held his breath, moving to cradle your face in his bloodied hands. 

“Y/n/n… can you hear me?” he kept his voice low, anxiously glancing between you and the two men. “C’mon, baby, wake up for me.” He whipped his head to the side, seeing one of the men look towards the direction of the limo.

The man began to take a few steps forward, and Bucky found himself reaching for the gun that was hidden under the seats, leaning over your body to shield you. He ducked just below the window, keeping his eyes locked on the two men. 

Bucky gripped the pistol in his hand, fingers hovering just above the trigger, but before he could bring the weapon to the window, the sudden horn of a car went off, beeping like crazy as a black Escalade came hurtling towards the two men, barely stopping within an inch of them. 

He faintly caught the glimpse of one of his father’s men tearing himself from the driver's seat to land several kicks and punches to the two men. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, Bucky moved to open the door, kicking it open when it wouldn’t budge. The door flung open, bits and pieces of glass falling onto the asphalt below, and Bucky slid his hands under your arms, lifting you up against his chest and pulled you out of the car, gently placing you on the ground. 

He still held your head in his lap, cerulean eyes wide with fear. The adrenaline was dying down, and he didn’t hear the faint rumble of footsteps bounding towards him. 

“James!” He looked up, seeing his father stand just above, who pulled open the door to the backseat. “Come on, son, we gotta get movin’!” 

Bucky nodded and slipped his hands underneath your knees and shoulders, lifting you into his arms. He rose on shaky legs and ran as fast as he could, sliding you into the backseat of the car, keeping his palm flat against the back of your head. 

He wasted no time as he hoisted himself up, slamming the backseat door. Glancing up at the front seat, he made eye contact with his father in the rear view mirror, and only then did he get a glimpse of his face. 

A cut under his eye that bled onto his cheek, several nicks and tears covered his face from forehead to chin. There was a forming lump on his temple, one he presumed he got when his head hit the door from the collision. 

“What the hell happened?” George asked, turning around when Hayes put the vehicle in motion.

Bucky carefully placed your head in his lap and sunk into the leather cushions, leaning down to take the tissue box that laid on the bottom of the car floor and dabbed away the mess of blood and dirt on your face. 

“I-I don’t know, we were just driving , there were no other cars on the road - and then they just hit us from the side. We crashed into the side barrier… I-I don’t remember much, I think I blacked out for a few minutes,” he said, glancing down at you. An incoherent mumble passed through your lips, and Bucky held your face gingerly, sweeping his thumb over the mess of cuts on your cheeks. 

“Call Stark and tell him to meet us at the house near the shipping warehouse. Tell him to bring Banner, Y/n and James need medical attention.” George said to Hayes, but Bucky blocked them out. 

You moved your head slightly, leaning into his touch as your eyelids began to flutter open. Bucky held his breath as your eyes cracked open, darting around the roof of the car before they settled on face, darting around until you found his eyes. Your hand fisted his pullover as you mumbled, “what happened?” 

“We got hit, but we’re okay. Your dad is gonna meet us at the house with Dr. Banner, it’s gonna be okay.” Bucky whispered, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. 

“You’re bleeding,” He cracked a smile, though it was forced. 

Even when you were concussed and dazed, you still were concerned for him. 

“I’m okay, sweet girl, I promise. This is nothing,” he said softly, gesturing to his face. He continued to dab away the dried blood on your cheek. “We’ll get cleaned up, the both of us, don’t you worry a pretty hair on your head. We’ll be okay,”

You faintly nodded and leaned further into his hands, you closed your eyes and faintly grabbed his wrist, holding onto him for the remainder of the car ride, until you arrived at the safehouse. 

“Hi.”

Bucky shot his head up, eyes wide as he looked over at your figure as you stood a few feet in front of his desk. His eyes raked over your form, smiling at your ripped jeans and ratted old sweatshirt from high school. He placed the picture frame back down.

“S-sorry, I knocked but there wasn't an answer, and I wasn’t sure if you were in here - the man in the front, Sam I think, told me you’d be in here.”

“No, you’re fine,” Bucky said, the corners of his mouth lifting up slightly. In all honesty, he didn’t expect to see you so soon, he figured you would have to lie just to get out of the penthouse. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon, if I’m being completely honest.”

You chuckled nervously, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you shifted nervously in the worn out sneakers on your feet, unsure of how to approach him. 

Instead, you looked around his office, eyes darting from the bookshelf to the couch tucked away in the corner and to his desk, where you saw a jar of blue sour belts, the ones the two of you used to snack on in Romania. 

“I see you still love those sour candies, huh?” you said, pointing to the jar. Bucky chuckled and nodded, opening the lid to take one out. He offered one to you, but you politely declined. 

“What can I do for you, Y/n?” 

You swallowed thickly, gripping the ends of your sleeves tightly in your grasp. Your eyes darted to the floor for a moment, and you felt the deep feeling of shame seep into your bones. To ask him something when you haven’t had contact with him in almost six years. 

“I, uh, I-” You took a deep breath in, shakily exhaling. “I know this is a lot to ask, and I know I have no right asking…”

“But?”

His eyes held no malice, no resentment, not hatred. Just worry. 

“He threatened my dad, and I know he has been causing trouble for you and your men,” you said shakily, scratching at the faded scar below your temple. Bucky sat up straighter in his chair, his brows furrowing. 

You took in the expression on his face, and a wave of anxiety passed through you. What were you trying to ask of him exactly? To kill your husband? To kill your husband’s men? There was no version that would make you look innocent. 

If you asked this of Bucky, it would make you no better than him. The man you despise, and hate with all of your being. You would be just the same. Your mind taunted you, relentlessly and aimlessly until you forgot what you were trying to ask of him.

“You know,” you started, clearing your impossibly dry throat. Tears began to prick your eyes. “I-I don’t even know what I came here to say. I’m sorry to waste your time, James. I.. I’m sorry.” 

You reached for the door handle and zoomed out of his office, shame welled into you and you felt your face heat up as you hurriedly made your way down the black staircase, down to the bar. 

You saw Sam talking with a red haired woman, and he looked over at you, catching you in his peripheral vision. He offered you a toothy smile, but it quickly fell when he took in your distressed state. 

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, smoothing your hair down against your shoulders, sparing the two a glance. You were about to tell them to have a good night, but the sound of loud, stomping footsteps caused you to look up. 

You could see Bucky practically sprint down the stairs, and you were surprised his foot didn’t get caught on a step. You stood, feet frozen in place as he caught up to you, blue eyes widened, his hair just slightly out of place. 

“Please don’t go, not yet. Just-” His voice sounded desperate, like he was scared for you to leave. He took a steady breath in. “Let me get you something to drink, and we can talk in private, okay?”

His hands found purchase on your shoulders, and you felt his fingertips press into your muscle. He looked at you with a serious expression and you nodded as he slid his hands down from your shoulders to your hands, tenderly gripping your hands.

“Okay,” You allowed him to lead you back up the stairs and into his office, all the way to the soft couch. He grabbed a cup from the cart that stood in the corner and poured you a glass of water and squeezed a lemon into the cup. 

You nodded at him and took a sip, watching him as he took a seat next to you. He sat, patiently waiting for you to initiate the conversation, sitting back against the cushions. 

“I don’t know how to word it without sounding horrible. Without me sounding like a horrible person,” you said as you placed the glass on the coffee table. 

“Just take a deep breath, and say what you’re thinking.”

You hated the fact that after all these years, all these years with no contact, no text or call to see how he was doing, Bucky still spoke to you and treated you with a respect that Brock had never shown you. 

You could stab him in the back, and he would still do as you asked. 

“Brock threatened my dad,” you started slowly, gauging his reaction. “He told me that he would kill him, and he’s falling back on the marital agreement.” Bucky nodded. “I know his business has been down because…” Your eyes darted nervously to him. 

But Bucky merely chuckled and shrugged innocently. “What can I say, he’s a major pain in my ass.”

“If I give you information about everything, like his bank records, or where he has his monthly meetings, or anything for the matter, you could… you could stop him, right?” you asked hopefully. 

Bucky nodded, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. You wanted to sink into the cushions and vanish without a thought. Seeing him knit his brows in deep concentration, anxiety filled your gut to the brink. 

“I overheard one of his men say that your partners have been stopping his weapon shipments, so he’s losing money and losing business partners. That means he’s on his remaining legs, which makes him vulnerable, right?”

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, nervously awaiting his response. You were expecting him to say no and turn you away, to push you away because of your request. This is a stupid idea, this is a selfish idea. I’m a selfish person. 

But when he placed his hand on your knee, squeezing gently to bring you away from your inner thoughts, he looked at you with a small smile, one that could light up a dark room. 

“How will I know that you’ll be okay in the end?” he responded with a gentle tone as his eyes gazed into yours. His hand traveled from your knee to your hand, and he squeezed your fingers softly. “If I do this, how will I know that you will be okay and safe from harm?”

His voice held nothing but worry and concern for you, he had to bite the inside of his cheek just to resist the urge to cup your cheek. 

“It would kill me if something happened to you because of my actions. If he hurts you in any way because of what I did, I wouldn’t know how to carry on.” Bucky whispered, eyes darting over your eyes. 

“I could stay at home when it happens. That way he won’t be suspicious of me and you won’t have to worry about my safety,” you explained slowly, hoping that he would agree with you. 

His hand cupped your cheek, thumb tenderly swiping under the growing circles under your eyes and he whispered, “I always worry about you.”

You watched him, how his eyes raked over your face, between your eyes, occasionally flickering up to the scar. His fingers delicately traced over the long faded mark. 

“If I agree to this, promise me you won’t intervene in any way.” Bucky said, his voice steady and strong. “It’ll kill me if anything happens to you. Just… just promise me that you’ll tell me the moment he gets suspicious, and please promise me that you’ll leave if he hurts you.”

He looked at you with despair, his hands slid down to lightly grasp your jaw, his fingers delicately tracing the column on your throat. He traced the outline of your windpipe, eyes boring into yours. 

“I promise.” you whispered and you reached up and grasped his wrists. It was only then that you saw the colorful tattoo ink that peeked out from his clothed arm. 

Bucky nodded, blowing out a tense breath. He released your face from his gentle hold, and as you mindlessly sipped your water, he tore a piece of paper from a notebook and scribbled his something. He folded the paper as small as he could and pushed it into the pocket of your jeans. 

“You bring everything to me when you can, okay? If you have to sneak around just to get it, please don’t. Do it when no one’s around, or when he’s out in a meeting.”

You nodded, allowing him to pull you up from the couch. His hands were warm against your cold ones, and you swallowed back a gasp as he tenderly pressed a kiss against your forehead. 

“When this is all over, I’m gonna show you how you deserve to be treated.” he whispered against your skin, twirling a strand of hair in his finger. 

You felt a feeling flutter in your stomach; one you hadn’t felt in years. The way he held your face, how he brushed his fingers through your hair, the gentle hold on your hands. Your own husband only held you with a malice clutch and a vice grip. Bucky held your hand as if you were the most precious, fragile thing in the world.

“I’ll have one of my men drive you home, okay? Scott Lang, also works for your old man, he can drive you back to the penthouse. It’ll make it seem like you were at your dad’s, okay?”

You nodded and allowed him to bring you down to the bar area. Sam and the red haired woman were nowhere to be seen, but you presumed them to be doing work. 

“Let me know when you get safely inside, okay?” Bucky said as he led you outside, where a man with a kind smile, dark hair and goofy demeanor stood. You nodded and took a step forward, towards the open door, but paused. 

Looking back, Bucky gave you an encouraging smile. “It’ll all be okay, sweet girl. I promise I'm gonna get you out of this, okay? I promise.” 

“I believe you… Bucky,” you said, offering him a smile before sitting down against the plush seats. Scott gently closed the door and nodded to his boss, who wore an ear-to-ear grin. 

Bucky stood on the sidewalk and watched the town car drive all the way to the end of the street before turning. He sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets, standing for a moment longer before he made his way into the club. 

--- 

“Where have you been?” Brock asked with raised brows, watching as you sauntered into the room. 

“I went to my dad’s office for a bit. I just wanted to see him for a few minutes.” you replied, taking off your sweatshirt. You slipped into your pajamas and looked over to him, eyes glancing down to the suitcase. “When do you leave?”

Brock disappeared into the closet, gathering shoes, socks, undershirts and boxers. You sat on your side of the bed, pulling your laptop onto your lap, swiping through your emails. 

“On Friday. Jet is scheduled to leave at around three.” he said, coming back into the room with a handful of clothes. “I wish you could come, darlin’, but it’s strictly business. Just a week of business, business, business.” 

You hummed in reply, sorting through your emails. 

“What are you gonna be up to?”

“Um, just a few dinners with my dad. Nothing else besides that,” you said, glancing over to him. He nodded and continued to fold his clothes and placed them into his suitcase. 

A new email popped up and you clicked on it, the corners of your mouth lifting up slightly as you read over the message. 

Y/n, 

Send all the files you are able to find and send them to Scott, I’ll link his email and contact information below. I swear on my father’s grave that I will get you out of this safely. It would kill me if I let anything happen to you, and I know for a fact that your father would absolutely murder me. Archive this message so he won’t see it. 

All things aside, please stay safe. And call me if anything escalates. Just hold on for a little while, Birdie. There’s a light at the end of the dark tunnel. 

Stay safe, sweet girl. I’ll see you soon. 

- J.B.B 

You closed your laptop and placed it on the small loveseat, aiming for your book instead. You dipped under the warm covers and opened to your bookmarked page, continuing your reading. 

You tried not to get your hopes up, tried not to get too excited, but you couldn’t help yourself. Crumbling your husband’s failing empire would take a lot of digging, but you knew where his weak points were. You knew how to crawl out of the darkened burrow.

And at the end of the tunnel, hopefully James would be waiting for you with open inviting arms.

---

tags 🏷 - @matchat3a @moonlightreader649 @boofy1998