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harryslittlefreakk · 7 months ago

Text

favourite crime

summary: a chance meeting between y/n and her professor leads to a dare… which leads to a forbidden affair neither of them will forget

wordcount: 8k!!!! can you even believe it!!

warnings: smut (exhibitionism, foreplay) , inappropriate relationship (lol)

a/n: i love professorry & you guys voted for this one so i hope i’ve done him justice! this was going to be a one shot but i wrote so much more than i planned lol so it will be a mini series. please let me know if you enjoy <3

my masterlist and taglist can be found here 🥰

“I’ll give you £50 if you go over there.”

“Not a chance, Courtney. I’m not sacrificing my education for £50.”

“I’ll buy your drinks for the rest of the year then.”

You wrapped your hands around your glass, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. Your eyes had been glued to the back of your professor’s head since he arrived, jitters coursing through your body. He’d stayed frozen at the bar the entire time, a neat whiskey in one hand and his nose deep in a book.

“He’s so fucking sexy,” you muttered, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you watched the way his tongue jutted out just slightly, wetting his finger so he could turn the page. “Alright, wish me luck,” you beamed at your friend, sliding out of the booth.

You wove through the crowd around the bar, making sure to stay out of Harry’s sight. Your voice was barely audible as you ordered two drinks, a spicy marg for you and a neat whiskey for him. Even the roar of music and chatter was dimmed as your heart pounded in your ears, still watching Harry like a hawk in case he was suddenly joined by a girlfriend.

The coast was clear when you got the drinks, the barstool next to him still invitingly empty. You turned back to your table, pulling a mock nervous grimace as you held the drinks up in the air. After a final check for anyone heading towards Harry, you decided to make your move.

“What would a handsome young man like you be doing here alone?” you teased, slipping into the seat next to Harry as you set down a new drink in front of him. His eyes lingered on his book for a second before looking over at you, an expectant smirk quickly replaced by a frown.

“Miss y/l/n,” was all he managed to say, his mouth drying up as he scanned your body, green eyes lingering just a second too long when they met your cleavage.

“Professor Styles,” you replied, tapping the rim of your glass against his. “Cheers.”

“It’s wildly inappropriate to buy your professor a drink,” he told you, voice stern but a small smile playing on his lips.

You turned away from him, craning your neck to look around the bar. His eyes followed yours, brows knitted when you eventually looked back at him with a satisfied grin. “Just checking. No university higher ups here, so you’re free to act inappropriately.”

“Thank you for the drink,” Harry smiled, folding over a corner of the page he was reading before reluctantly closing the book.

You snatched it from his grasp, a mocking gasp falling from your lips as you flicked through the tattered book. Almost every page was dog-eared, the spine broken and sellotaped back together, half the book bent out of shape from water damage. “You’re an English teacher. And you treat your books this way?”

He chuckled, stretching out an open hand to silently ask for his book back. You clutched it close to your chest, hands splayed across the book to protect it from his touch. “You can’t be trusted with it anymore.”

“This is so inappropriate,” Harry muttered, covering his smirk with a tanned hand as he shook his head. Every second you spent at his side felt like a step closer to unemployment, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn you away. After all, you were in a bar out of town, and the likelihood of anyone seeing you was low.

You grabbed a napkin while he mused, pulling him out of his thoughts when you shoved a hand into the pocket of his slacks. Harry's eyebrows raised in surprise as you pulled out a pen, a mischievous glint in your eyes. He couldn't help the rush of adrenaline he felt at your touch, sparks tingling where your fingers had brushed against his thigh, the silk lining of his pocket suddenly warm.

He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure as he leaned one elbow against the bar. "I think it's time you head back," he said, his husky voice tinged with a mix of amusement and apprehension. The tension between you was palpable, and he knew he needed to put some distance between you before things went too far.

You scribbled something on the napkin, folding it in half and slotting it into Harry’s book, taking time to lovingly smooth out the crease he had folded into it before handing it back to him.

“Nice seeing you, Professor,” you winked, downing the remainder of your cocktail and setting the glass down next to his book before making your way back over to your table.

Harry watched as you sauntered back, your hips swaying in time with the music. There was an air of danger about you that lingered just out of his reach, intrigue creeping through his bones. He’d noticed your natural charm from the day you joined his class, the way you were a friend to everyone who gave you as much as a glance, and an enemy only to the girls who cared more for their looks than their popularity. You’d always submitted good papers, asked important questions, and listened when he asked you to stop your incessant chatting to the people around you. But he’d never noticed this side of you, and now that he had, he didn’t think he could go without it.

With a final glance over in your direction, Harry finished his whiskey and stalked out of the bar, desperate to cool off before he got carried away with the idea of you.

By the time you looked over at him, he was gone, and your friend was interrogating you about what had happened.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, drawing on your greatest acting skills to feign a pout.

“I don’t buy that for a second,” Courtney poked, grinning excitedly as your frown morphed into a smirk.

“You can’t tell anyone, I mean it.”

“Swear on my life.”

“I gave him my number,” you grinned, unable to keep your cool for even a minute.

Courtney gasped, banging her hand down on the table. “You didn’t!”

“I did. But I don’t think he’ll use it,” you laughed, silently hoping that he would.

—

You’d checked your phone the entire way home, waiting for a text that might never come. But the second you climbed into bed, reluctantly accepting your love affair had died a premature death, your phone let out the most glorious little ding it ever would.

unknown number: did you get home safe?

You thrashed around the bed for a second, jaw snapping so low it could have smacked against the floor. You read and reread the message, eyes wandering over every letter.

y/n: safe and alone if that’s what you’re asking

You watched as the little white dots appeared and disappeared, over and over again, until they finally vanished for good.

But you’d already taken it further than you’d ever planned to, so you added Harry’s number to your contacts, and called him.

He answered after a few rings, his voice low and husky when he finally spoke. “You shouldn’t be calling me.”

“And you shouldn’t be answering,” you teased, giddy at the realisation that you were now having a late night phone call with the hottest man on the planet.

“How else am I going to tell you how inappropriate this is?” Harry sighed, though you could hear the reluctant amusement lacing his words.

You rolled onto your front, grinning at your phone like a love drunk teenager. “You can tell me to back off if you really want,” you offered, fingers crossing in a desperate plea for him to do the exact opposite.

He stayed silent for a minute, the cogs almost audible as he weighed up the pros and cons. “It’s already gone this far,” he murmured eventually. “Thank you, by the way. For the drink and the bookmark.”

You bit down on your lip in a desperate attempt to control your grin from splitting your face clean in half. “That’s two gifts from me now, what do I get from you?”

“You get to keep your education and not be reported to every higher up there is,” Harry laughed.

“And what else?” With every word you felt like you were falling deeper into cuckoo land. It was so out of character for you, never the one to blindly make your move on a man. And not just a man, the professor you’d harboured a juvenile crush on for the entire academic year.

“Nothing else. You’re bad news,” Harry replied. You pictured him sitting with his phone in hand, a stern frown and warm smirk juxtaposed on his chiseled face.

“Am I really?”

“Definitely.” Even the sound of his voice had you weak at the knees. You’d never make it through tomorrow’s lecture, melted to a puddle in your seat within five minutes.

“Maybe you should delete this number then.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ve saved it,” Harry replied, his turn to tease now.

“Well then what are you worried about? There’s no evidence of your crime,” you mocked.

“Don’t call it a crime.”

“Can I at least be your favourite crime?”

Harry sighed again, a real exasperated sigh this time. Your grin fell as he stumbled over what to say, the potential repercussions of your chase suddenly weighing heavy on you both. “Look, I’ll be honest with you here y/n, I don’t know what I’m doing,” Harry confessed, his voice soft as he spoke.

“Can we not just worry about it later?” It was a plead you hoped the both of you would take notice of.

“Not when my career hangs in the balance.” He went quiet again, only shallow breaths and the drumming of his fingers audible from the other end of the line. “Meet me in my office at the end of the day tomorrow,” he finally muttered. “And not a word of this to anyone.”

“Goodnight, professor,” you smiled, heart pounding so violently you feared it could burst through your chest as you ended the call.

Either he wasn’t done with you yet, or he was really done. And if the tone of his voice and the reluctance that laced it gave you any clues, you had your money (and hopes) on the former.

—

You spent the whole morning in a daze, pulling your phone out every few minutes to check your message history in case you’d made the whole thing up. It felt like a bizarre fever dream, an alternate reality you’d stumbled into. Every time you saw the read the text from Harry your heart skipped a beat, doing nothing to calm you. Whatever he wanted to see you for was eating away at you, your fate resting in his hands. You didn’t even notice the campus barista calling your name, over and over again as your head and your heart argued loudly in your mind.

When you finally snapped back to reality, grabbing your coffee with a stream of apologies tumbling from your lips, you saw Harry watching you, an amused smirk curling the corners of his mouth.

You winked at him as you left the cafe, unnoticeable to anyone but him, but just enough to make him uncomfortable.

“He looks good today,” Courtney mused, pushing open the lecture hall door and leading you towards the nearest empty seats. They were too near the front for your liking, especially today, but at least Harry couldn’t miss you.

“How do I look?” you asked Courtney, glancing down at your outfit. You’d tried to be cute, in case that swayed him towards fulfilling your dirtiest desires, but not too over the top. You weren’t going to force him into bed if that isn’t where he wanted to end up with you.

“Like the little slut you are,” she teased, grinning as you rolled your eyes.

“He told me to go to his office at the end of the day. What if I get there and he’s sitting with the head waiting to grass me up?”

“Then you can blame me,” Courtney smiled, always ready to shoulder your academic and personal failures.

“What if he’s not?”

“Then you can thank me.”

You rested your chin in your hands, eyes glued to the head of whoever was sat in front of you as you grumbled and groaned. You were too busy freaking out to notice Harry coming in, his eyes continually flicking to you as he set up the projector.

“I really want him,” you groaned, just loud enough for the words to reach Harry’s ear, a tiny blush creeping up his cheeks as he read your lips.

“Silence, please,” he called out, eyes still locked on yours with his lips curled into a barely noticeable smirk.

He kept his eyes trained on you the entire class, not even attempting to look away whenever you caught him staring. If you were crazy, you’d notice that he’d paid a little more attention to his appearance that day. His brown curls were pushed back with a little gel, his ringed fingers falling to his side every time he reached up to brush a hand through his hair. He’d ditched the v-neck sweater for a crisp white shirt, hints of tattoos you didn’t know he had poking through the material.

You didn’t even notice it was the end of the day until your subconscious carried you out of the crowd of students heading for the exit, and you found yourself knocking on Harry’s door.

He called you in, straightening up as you pushed open the door and looked around expectantly. The university higher ups weren’t there to escort you off campus immediately, and you felt a little weight fall off your shoulders.

His office was quaint, littered with books and notes. Harry sat behind a tower of papers, an old fashioned table lamp illuminating his desk in warm orange hues. He waited for you to sit down in front of him, grinning as he handed you an uncapped pen. “I thought you could help me with some marking since you’re so desperate to harass me outside of lessons,” he smirked, nodding to the stack of papers.

“Any excuse to spend time with me,” you muttered, grinning as you dropped your bag down next to you. Harry handed half of his pile to you, and you work silently for a while, your mind running a million miles an hour. He hadn’t shut you down, hadn’t made any effort to tell you to stop. And he found a way for you to spend more one on one time together.

Harry cleared his throat suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Need to ask you something,” he murmured, setting his pen down on top of the paper he was working on.

You looked up at him silently, brows knitted and pouted lips falling open as you waited for him to continue. He was shifty, eyes squinted as if he didn’t want the words to come out. “You’re not trying to get something, are you?” he paused, tensing up in his seat. “Like… I don’t know. ‘Let me get some dirt so i can blackmail my professor for good grades.’”

His mouth hung open as he waited for you to reply, watching you go from confusion, to anger, to hurt in the time it took you to comprehend what he said.

You rubbed a hand over your face, trying to maintain your composure as you took in the weight of his words. “If that’s what you think then-”

You stood up, pulling your bag onto your shoulder. Harry jumped to his feet, circling around his desk as he read the hurt in your eyes. “It’s not, I have to ask-”

He reached out, grabbing a hold of your sleeve as you turned to walk away. Part of your brain willed you to stay, to not cause a scene and show him the immaturity that came with being tangled up with a younger woman. But you couldn’t stay there, not with him and his absurd view of you.

You pulled out of his grip, shrugging your sleeve back into place. “That’s not who I am,” you murmured, heading for the door as quickly as your shaky legs would take you. You left Harry standing there dumbfounded, face screwed up as you tried to make sense of him.

“Come on, please. Just one little boogie,” you pleaded with Courtney, already rifling through her wardrobe for something to wear. You’d promised each other to slow down with the nights out this year, try and use your evenings for important things like studying, or swiping through each other’s Tinders. But you were still a little pissed off, just enough that you required a best friend boogie to shake it off.

“Fine.” Courtney rolled her eyes, dragging her body off the bed to get changed.

The bar was busy when you got there, as noisy and as crowded as it was on the weekends. You groaned as you sunk into your seat at a corner booth, too irritated to deal with handsy men and having to shout about your problems over loud music.

unknown number: are you home?

Your phone lit up as you pulled it out your bag, a scowl taking over your features as your eyes gazed over the words.

unknown number: ?

“Who’s that?” Courtney asked, searching your frown for answers as you turned your phone face down on the table.

“Who do you think?”

“What the hell happened in his office?”

“Nothing, seriously nothing. He asked me if I’m trying to get dirt on him. So I can get better fucking grades.”

“It’s a valid question,” Courtney shrugged.

You groaned, holding your head in your hands. “I know it is. I’m just offended that he thinks I’m that kind of girl,” you explained.

“I’m sure he doesn’t. But if anything were to happen, there’s more for him to lose.”

“Well I don’t think I’d be finishing my education anywhere near here if it ever got out.”

“No, you’d be the town whore. Young women would come from all over the world, desperately seeking advice from their hero. Professors would fear even looking you in the eye,” Courtney teased, well prepared for your dramatics.

“You’re making me regret it before it’s even begun.”

“Stop pursuing him then.”

“You’re the one who dared me in the first place!”

Courtney patted your arm fondly, swilling the last of her drink around the walls of the glass. “While you’re brilliant company, I’d rather have a full glass while I talk to you. Same again?”

You picked up your phone hesitantly, as if it would detect your fear and automatically message Harry. He was too confusing, messing with your head already despite having spent less than an hour with him. You didn’t want messy, but somehow you needed him.

You threw your head in your hands, groaning as you peeled through your fingers. Courtney was taking too long, and naturally your eyes found her twirling her hair and grinning in the direction of the man with his arm around her waist.

He was cute, the exact kind of beachy blonde man you knew would leave Courtney in love after five minutes. She turned to look back at you with wide eyes, her excitement palpable even through the crowds between you.

You gave her a thumbs up, smile only faltering when you spotted a familiar face behind Courtney, the same brown curls that seemed to haunt your every move. Harry looked up from his phone at just the right moment to catch you staring. Busted. His warm gaze met your frosty glare, his cheeks tinged pink as his eyes focused on you.

You couldn’t exactly continue to ignore his texts now, especially with your phone quite clearly placed in front of you, so you broke eye contact, glancing down to type out a text to Harry.

y/n: no, busy riding the university head at the minute. thought i’d do go for the big dog 🤷🏻‍♀️

unknown number: come outside .

You watched as Harry slipped out of his booth, stalking towards the entrance. And like a little lap dog, you followed, eager to know what he had to say.

You slipped an arm around Courtney’s waist as you passed her, whispering in her ear about getting some fresh air. She nodded, but her eyes were glazed over, too deeply interested in this man to really hear what you said.

Harry was leaning against the wall outside when you reached him, head turned upwards towards the late evening skies. You stood next to him, back pressed against the brick with your eyes resting on him. Scanning over his features like it was the first and last time you’d ever see his face. The little mark of his glasses on the bridge of his nose, curls in tatters after a full day of running his hands through them every five minutes. He was attractive from the second you first set eyes on him, but most of his pull was in his personality. You didn’t know much of him, but what you did know was charming. He always told a stupid dad joke at the start of class to draw everyone in, his feedback was always positive even on the worst essays. No one ever felt stupid or less than around Harry, he made that his mission. And yet somehow now you felt like the most ridiculous little girl, chasing after someone she can’t have just for any benefits it might bring.

Harry had turned to face you at some point during your musing, silently watching your features soften and then change, moulding into different emotions as the cogs turned in your mind.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” he started, shifting his body slightly as you looked back out onto the street.

“Then you shouldn’t have asked an offensive question.”

You knew you were showing your age, only aiding his perception of you, but you couldn’t help acting petty for a minute. You weren’t the adult in this situation, not the one who needed to be mature.

“I’m sorry. I just needed to know your intentions before-”

“You had every right to ask.”

Harry frowned, mouth opening in preparation to disagree with you before your rambling cut him off.

“No, you did. A lot more is at stake for you, I should’ve thought about that before I- I didn’t think you’d accept the drink, but you did, so I pushed, I was-”

“Testing the boundaries,” Harry finished for you.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t think we’ve hit them yet,” Harry mumbled, pulling his gaze away from you. You kept making him shy, painting an uncomfortable blush upon his skin, trailing goosebumps down his back. He was supposed to have the power here, yet he felt completely surrendered to you.

“Do you still want me to help you with marking?”

“If you want to. Was actually really helpful for me today.”

Your phone started buzzing in your hand, a stream of texts flashing up on the screen. “Courtney says she wants to go home with her new boyfriend, he has a roommate who can ‘have’ me,” you told Harry, face screwing up as you read the last words.

“That sounds nice,” he chuckled dryly, glancing down at his watch.

“Sounds horrific, no thank you. Haven’t even had my boogie yet,” you groaned, quickly tapping a similar yet softer message to Courtney.

Harry turned on his heel, stalking back towards the entrance of the bar as you dawdled behind him, eyes still glued to your phone screen.

“Where are we going?” you asked, following him to his table. Courtney was leaned against it, the new drink she’d meant to bring you long forgotten next to her. Her new lover was attached to her like a conjoined twin, his lips hitting places you’d dreamed of finding Harry’s. “Your table’s been taken over,” you mumbled, watching as Harry interrupted the snogging session with a firm tap on the back of the beachy blonde’s head.

“Y/n, Josh. Josh, y/n,” Harry beamed, inwardly cringing at having to explain his connection to you and Courtney.

You shot her a puzzled look, mouth hanging open as you looked between the three of them standing across from you. Courtney’s face mirrored yours, smile morphing into a smug smirk as she realised. “He’s your roommate?” she asked Josh, thumb pointing towards Harry.

“Yeah. How do you-?”

“Story for another time mate,” Harry laughed, patting down his pockets to check he had everything before leading you out of the bar.

—

“Did you plan this?” you laughed, cocking your head in mock suspicion. Josh and Courtney had disappeared into his bedroom before you’d even taken your shoes off, leaving you and Harry alone for the evening. In his house.

It was cute, a tiny but spacious two bed. He had books littering every surface, all as tattered and worn as the one he’d been reading in the bar. And the shut of him fixing you some dinner, a tea towel thrown over his shoulder… it was a good job you were propped up against the breakfast bar for how weak your legs had become.

Harry held his hands up in defence, turning round to look at you. “I swear on my life, no. I invited Josh out for one, he went to get our drinks and they must’ve bumped into each other at the bar.”

“Why did you go back to the same bar?”

“Why did you?” Harry countered, the pasta water bubbling dangerously high as he abandoned the jumble of pots and pans on the hob, leaning on the countertop in front of you.

“I asked you first,” you smirked, reaching out to swat at his face. He caught your wrist in one quick movement, pinning your hand down between you both.

“I’m older.” Harry cocked his head to the side, a playful curl tugging at the corners of his mouth. There was something soft about him, an air of domesticity that you dreamed about in a man but rarely saw.

You wrapped your fingers around his, pushing your hand against his until they sat just between your faces. “How old are you?”

“I am… old enough to be your teacher,” Harry grinned, pulling his eyes from your face to frown at your hands. “Are you seriously trying to arm wrestle me?”

You felt his arm tense up, his grip on your hand tightening as he slammed your hand back down on the countertop, a laugh rising out of him. “Seriously,” you frowned, making no attempt to loosen your grip on him as he rounded the breakfast bar, stopping when his face was only inches from yours.

The food was long forgotten, the pasta water sizzling as it overflowed onto the hob. Neither of you noticed, too enthralled by your proximity and the crackle of tension in the air.

“Thirty four,” Harry replied finally, his breath tickling your skin.

It didn’t matter anymore. He could’ve been fifty, seventy even and it wouldn’t even reach your ears. You couldn’t think with him this close to you, couldn’t force your brain to do the mental maths when the scent of his last coffee of the day lingered on his breath, the woody notes of his aftershave clinging to his shirt, deep grey ink drawn onto the inches of exposed tan skin.

“Dinners ruined,” Harry murmured, nodding his head back towards the hob, eyes still glued to yours.

“I’m not hungry,” you whispered, breath hitching as Harry moved closer. He cupped your jaw, running his thumb along your lower lip. And then he was moving around the corner, stepping into you as you opened your legs to let him closer. Your heart was hammering in your chest, eyes wide as you stared up at him.

Harry’s lips had barely met yours before the smoke alarm set off, barely given you a taste of him before he was across the kitchen, stabbing at the smoke detector with pain etched into his features.

Your eyes met when the wailing finally stopped, his frustration turning to amusement as he looked up towards the ceiling. “Maybe that was a sign,” he smirked.

You rested your head in your palm, brows knitted as you watched him lean against the sink, too far away from you. “Maybe we should follow the universes rules,” you whispered. “So you shouldn’t cross this,” you pointed to the breakfast bar.

“What if I need to get to that side of the room?” Harry countered, throwing his head back on his shoulders.

“You can ask me to pass you something.” But he was already moving closer, already rounding the countertop. And then his lips were on yours again, your makeshift barricade already forgotten. He was stronger this time, his tongue faster as it wrestled against yours, the sweet nectar of his mouth like honey as he kissed deeper into you.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you whispered, pulling away for a second to catch your breath.

“No, we shouldn’t,” Harry echoed, pressing fervent pecks to your swollen pout.

“It’s really bad.” The words were tumbling out like a reminder to you both, your brains final plea for some display of sanity before it went too far.

Harry’s hands were wandering over your body, his eyes locked on yours as his mouth trailed down your neck. “I fear the line is too far behind us now,” he murmured, husky voice muffled against your throat. You were sure he could feel your heart working overtime to try and calm itself down, thumping against the walls of your ribs as if it were about to break free.

“I can’t see it”, you mumbled, tangling a hand in his hair. You were panting, your mouth gaping open as Harry’s fingertips clawed and kneaded at your doughy hips, his other hand cupping the nape of your neck. His mouth was magic, his tongue grazing over the spots his teeth would nip as he moved further down your body. It was as if he’d been starved for years, your skin his lifeblood, the food he so desperately craved.

But footsteps at the top of the stairs broke your spell, you and Harry forced to tear yourselves away from each other like repelling magnets. You could see the regret in his eyes, the hesitance of his touch as it left your body. He stumbled across the room to the sofa, throwing himself down as if physically pained to be out of your reach. You forced a smile onto your mouth, straightening out your skirt as Courtney rounded the corner into the living room.

“Nice night?” you smirked.

“I was just explaining to Josh that we’re being responsible now. Which means no sleepovers with boys you meet in bars, especially when you have classes the next day,” Courtney shrugged, putting on her best puppy dog eyes for you.

“I’m not your mum,” you laughed, turning to face her properly. “If you want to stay then stay.”

Courtney’s eyes flicked to Harry, as if waiting for him to tell her to leave. “Stay,” he told her, raising his eyebrows suggestively to Josh. “Even if it’s a bit weird,” he mumbled, low enough for only you to hear.

“Text me!” you called after Courtney, though her and Josh were already running back up the stairs for round god-knows-what.

“You can stay too if you like,” Harry told you, settling back into the sofa cushions.

“Mmm, maybe not. One boundary crossed in a day is enough, no?” you shrugged, busying yourself by fiddling with a loose thread on your tights.

“Who said anything about crossing boundaries?” Harry smirked. He passed your jumper to you when you rolled your eyes, grabbing his keys from the side table as he stood up.

The air was tense when you got in the car, only speaking to direct Harry to your flat. His fingers danced along your thigh at every red light, his eyes lingering on you every time he glanced to the left.

“It’s just here,” you murmured, gesturing to the building ahead of you. You didn’t know why you kept talking yourself out of something you so clearly wanted, something that came to you both so naturally. It was right with a hint of wrong, wrong with a little right. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of his lips on yours, the taste of something you so desperately craved.

Harry pulled into your driveway, questions written all over his face. You looked at him wordlessly, setting your hand on top of his.

“Do you trust Courtney?” he asked, rubbing his temple with his free hand.

“With my life.” It wasn’t Courtney finding out that bothered you, and he knew that. If you were sloppy, anyone could see you together and realise what was going on. Or worse, other students could find out and use it against him in the very way he’d accused you of. Or worse still, you could be only one of many students he did this with.

“Then as long as we’re careful, there doesn’t have to be consequences,” Harry murmured, somehow knowing exactly how to dispel all of your worries. “Unless you’d rather leave it where it is. No harm, no foul,” he offered, squinting slightly as he tried to gage your reaction. He so desperately didn’t want to leave it, to put it aside as a twenty-four hour romance, never to be spoken of again. But it was clear that neither of you wanted to suffer the consequences.

“I don’t know if I can just close that door,” you sighed, the thrill too addictive to put aside. “Keep an eye on Courtney for me, please,” you whispered, slipping out of the car before you could manage to confuse yourself further.

He stayed outside until you get in the door, a small smile playing on his lips. You hadn’t wanted to leave it, and you weren’t trying to get something out of him. It was still dangerous, still as threatening to both of your lives, but you were both in it.

—

You’d barely met Harry’s eye for the entire class, willing yourself to forget he was that hot before your foolish desires turned into something unforgivable. Even still, your legs had carried you to his office at the end of the day with urgency. The warm glow of his lamp was too familiar, the woody aftershave you could smell from outside the door too inviting. You stepped into his office silently, pushing the door closed behind you.

“Hi,” Harry smiled from behind a stack of papers. He watched as you pulled out the chair in front of his desk, dropping into it with a content grin. “I had a very fun chat with Josh this morning.”

“I bet. What did he say?”

Harry halved the papers in front of him, placing the smaller pile in front of you. His fingertips brushed against your hand as you reached for the top one, lightning bolts streaking through your skin from the point of contact.

“That I’m a creep. And someone should’ve told him yesterday,” Harry grinned, reluctantly moving his hand away from yours.

“Did Courtney not say anything?” you laughed, screwing your face up as you imagined that conversation. Harry shrugged, running a hand through his tousled hair.

“I can’t believe she’s stayed at your house,” you cringed, nose wrinkling as you thought about it. It was enough of a boundary crossed to stay there if you were sleeping with him, but to have your professor know you’d been having sex under his roof… eurgh.

“You could’ve stayed too,” Harry murmured, shifting his marked papers to the empty space beside him.

“You know I couldn’t, Harry.”

“Remind me of your reasons.”

You turned the name plate on his desk round to face him, pointing at the word ‘professor’ with raised eyebrows.

“That didn’t stop you kissing me.”

“It was an act of charity!” you protested. “How can you turn down an old, lonely man who keeps trying to kiss you?”

Harry chuckled, leaning his forearms on the desk. “I’m old and lonely now?”

You nodded, a tiny smirk emerging as you chewed on the end of your pen. The more you got to see the playful side of Harry, the more you needed him. He seemed to have just the right dose of everything you wanted, your perfect man right in front of you and yet just out of reach.

“If that’s what it takes to kiss you, I’ll gladly be the oldest and loneliest man in the world,” he mewled, eyes sparkling as he leaned closer, his grin only centimetres away from you.

But then came a knock at the door, leaving you both springing away from each other once again. Harry cleared his throat as he walked over, straightening himself out as he tried to come up with a million plausible reasons why you would be in his office.

You craned your neck to see who had chosen to interrupt that moment. It another student from your class, asking about the assignment he’d set that day. You’d never spoken to her much, and from the way she was flicking her hair at Harry, you probably wouldn’t push for a friendship. Something lit up inside of you when you watched how professional and curt he was with her, a far cry from how he’d ever acted around you.

He got rid of her fairly quickly, wishing her a good weekend. Harry slammed the door behind him, giving it a second before walking back towards you. He stopped in front of your chair, crouching down just centimetres away from your face.

“I have a proposition. I think my house will be occupied this weekend, and it doesn’t seem like luck is on our side here. Why don’t we go somewhere? Out of the city obviously. If you’d like,” he was blushing slightly as he spoke, his fingers anxiously tapping on the armrests of your chair.

“That would be nice,” you smiled, the fire inside of you only growing warmer at the thought of spending proper alone time with Harry.

He leaned forward, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to your lips before flashing you a grin. “Sorry. Just had to do that once,” he mumbled.

You watched as Harry circled around his desk, hips swaying in mock seduction when he felt your eyes on him. “Did you ever notice me before?” you asked, curiosity lacing your words.

“Of course I did.”

“No, like, notice me, notice me,” you were gesturing wildly, hoping he’d catch on to your insinuation. Asking a man if he ever fancied you was embarrassing even for you, never mind if you had to physically spell it out for them.

“I never thought about you that way, if that’s what you’re asking. You’re my student, it never crossed my mind,” Harry told you, placing his glasses at the of his nose as he resumed grading.

“But now?”

He paused for a moment, gaze dripping with lust as it dragged over your face. “Now… I am beginning to think about you that way.”

‘Beginning’ was good enough for you. You leaned back in your chair, lips curling into a satisfied smile as you fiddled with the pen cap, anticipation coursing through your veins.

“You realise you’re supposed to be helping me? You’ve only graded about four papers,” Harry teased, head nodding towards his towering ‘finished’ pile.

You thumbed through your pile, counting under your breath as Harry watched with an amused smirk. “Five, actually,” you shot back.

Harry’s only response was to raise his eyebrows, arms folded across his chest as he leaned back in the seat. “You shouldn’t be rushing me anyway. The longer I take to grade, the more time you spend with me,” you grinned.

Harry stood up again, circling around the desk to tug your chair - with you still in it - next to his. You looked over at him as he sat back down, his eyebrow raised as an amused giggle bubbled out of you. “You’re clearly distracted by looking at me,” he shrugged, grinning as you slapped a hand over your mouth to stop the laughing fit.

“Now I’m more distracted by my proximity to you,” you grumbled, tearing your eyes away from Harry to stare back at the paper. That lasted all of 5 seconds before you were turning to face Harry again, knocking your pen against his shoulder to get his attention back on you. “Since you never replied, do you not want me to take forever, so you get to spend all that time with me?”

“Do you think I’m ever going to run out of papers?”

“You could always stop setting assignments,” you shrugged.

Harry swatted at the tip of your nose, his eyes bright behind his tortoise shell glasses. “You are just full of suggestions that all end in me being unemployed.”

“You chose this career,” you murmured, voice faltering as Harry placed a finger under your chin, pulling you up to face him properly. “I wouldn’t mind if you took forever,” he smiled, his eyes dark as they landed on your mouth.

Harry’s thumb was running across your bottom lip, swiping a tiny bead of spit over it until the rosebud skin was reflecting the glow of the lights. Your heart was hammering in your throat, almost willing someone to catch you in such an innocent yet inexplicable position. You stayed frozen for a few minutes, eyes caressing every shape on the other’s face, until Harry sucked in a deep breath, springing to his feet. “Let’s go,” he grunted. “Walk over to the bus stop and meet me there.”

“Are you kidnapping me?” you laughed as you slipped into the passenger seat.

“Damn. You got me,” Harry grinned, his smile not quite hiding the frustration in his eyes, his eyebrows knitted as he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “Couldn’t take one more second in that fucking office,” he groaned, tires squealing as he sped away from the bus stop.

He was a man on a mission as he raced across town, desperate to put as much distance as he could between you and the university. You stayed silent, the anticipation threatening to burst out of you if you dared open your mouth.

You couldn’t help but feel a sting of disappointment as he pulled up in a secluded car park, any signs of life obscured by overgrown bushes and trees. You so desperately wished for Harry to take you home, to do the things that you’d dreamed about.

He lead you over to a bench just behind the trees, wildflowers and unkept grass tickling at your bare legs as you set next to him. He was still silent, brows still knitted in frustration as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, flicking open the lid and holding it out to you. You took one, eyes flitting between the box and Harry’s face as he watched you.

“Only when I’m stressed,” Harry murmured, answering your puzzled look. You handed the lighter back to him, turning to face him fully as you exhaled the first drag. “And you’re stressed why?” you asked, watching the frustrations fall from his face as a wisp of smoke trailed over the pair of you.

“Because you’re dangerous,” he smirked, watching the ash fall as he tapped the cigarette. The remnants of chipped nail varnish on his fingertips, the prominent veins in his strong hand. You never thought watching someone smoke could turn you on, but the growing wet patch in your panties was proof that there wasn’t a thing Harry could do that wasn’t overwhelmingly sexy.

“How?”

Harry turned his attention back to you after a beat, resting an arm behind you on the bench. “Because you look at me like that,” he groaned, his voice husky as he spoke. “You sit there with something so filthy yet innocent in your eyes, making me want you when we both know you’re out of reach.”

He dropped his cigarette at his feet, stumping it out as you took a final drag of yours before mimicking him. “I’m not out of reach,” you whispered, reaching up to push a curl from Harry’s face.

“I can’t have you,” Harry murmured, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and pulling until you were straddling his thighs. His hands found your hips as you settled on top of his bulge, the cotton of his trousers melding to the slick coating your panties. You wrapped your arms around his neck, relaxing into his touch.

“You already do.” You knew what Harry was saying. You just couldn’t bother caring any longer about who might see you, or what would happen when you’d given him your all and yet couldn’t take it any further. He was exactly the kind of person you shouldn’t get involved with, and if you were a better person, you would have paid attention to that rather than finding yourself perched atop his thighs, leaning into his mouth as he pressed urgent kisses to your neck.

His fingers traced a question along the neckline of your jumper, his green eyes pleading with yours to let him uncover more of you. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t function for a second longer unless Harry released some of the energy built up inside of you. All you could do was grab a hold of the curls at the nape of his neck and hope what Harry saw in your eyes was permission.

He wasted no time in yanking down the top of your jumper, taking your bra with it until your nipple was exposed, inches from his lips. You ground down on his hips as he took you into his mouth, breathy moans clawing their way out of your throat as his tongue swirled around the pink bud. His hand was squeezing as he suckled, the perfect blend of hard and soft. Your whole body was electric, lightning bolts sending shudders through your system from where he touched you.

Harry’s lips popped off your nipple, his fingers still groping and massaging the exposed skin of your breast. He kissed his way back up to your jawline, his free hand slipping under your skirt. “Gonna do so much to this body when I have the time,” he murmured against your lips, pushing his hips up against yours. The moan that slipped past your parted lips was animalistic, your fingertips clawing for a hold on Harry’s crumpled collar.

You let his forehead push against your cheek, putty in his hands to be molded to whatever he needed you to be. His lips met yours with pure desire, your whole body limp as you succumbed to him. His lips, his touch, his cock throbbing under your core, it was too much to bear. The evening breeze that trailed over your exposed skin barely made a dent in cooling you down, did nothing to alert you to where you were or who you were with.

You reached down, leaning back until your shaking hands met the cool metal of Harry’s belt buckle. His hips bucked, nudging his clothed tip closer to your core, drawing a deep moan out of him when your fingertips brushed over his length. “Not here, princess,” he groaned, sinking his teeth into your swollen bottom lip.

You wanted to touch him, to make him feel as needed as he did to you, to feel the burn as his cock broke through your walls. The disappointment that throbbed through your core was short-lived though as his fingers moved to your entrance, plucking your panties to the side as your slick coated his lap. You were soaked through, ready for him in a way that you’d definitely be embarrassed by later. His fingertips had barely grazed you, yet you were writhing and panting as if you’d never been touched before.

You dipped your head onto Harry’s shoulder, reluctantly pulling your hands away from his hips as he presses his thumb against your clit. Your gasp was quietened by your lips pressing into his collar, your teeth tugging against the material as he rubbed slow circles over your sweet spot.

You barely managed to croak out a plea for more, your voice failing you as every muscle in your body contracted, your walls begging for Harry to touch you deeper.

He answered with a groan, shifting you in his lap until two fingers sunk into you, piercing through the tension in your core. You were rocking against his hand, lips ghosting along his jawline as you chased the high you were already so close to. Every buck of your hips pressed your clit into his palm, the contact making your hair stand on end. He was electric, his fingers fucking into you with a power that almost had you fearing what he could do in bed.

You were burning, your heart pounding in your ears. It was too loud, the sound of your slick, your moans and Harry’s breathless pants mixing together in a filthy symphony spurring you closer to your release. You wanted more of him, for him to fuck you in every way possible, but it was overwhelming. You couldn’t focus, pleasure rolling through your body in waves as his mouth found your nipple again, the added sensation pushing you over the edge. You were too weak too hold on, too close to do anything other than succumb to your high, tensing in his hold as you cried out his name.

It echoed around your mind, your eyes screwed shut as he rode you through it, your inner walls clamping down on his fingers. Your thighs were still trembling as he pulled his hand from your core and pushed his fingertips past his lips, sucking every bit of your come from them.

You were frozen, staring at Harry through heavy eyes with the ghost of a smile curling the corners of your mouth. You felt lifeless, trapped inside a body that didn’t feel like yours, even as he tucked your exposed breast back into your jumper and pulled you into his chest. You’d given him everything you had, and you’d happily stay on that bench in your blissful bubble for the rest of your life.

“Should get you home,” Harry murmured, his voice as he pressed a kiss into your hair. You hugged him tighter, unable to get up and walk away even if you wanted to.

eee guys what did you think ?! this was a bit choppy and weirdly written but 🤪 it will all come together in the next part

taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @harrystylesluverrrr @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever @stylesbrock @harry-nialllover @fanfic-whore

#harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry edward styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #professorry #harryslittlefreakk #harry styles masterlist

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nova2kss · 5 months ago

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Influencer island

“GOOD MORNINGGG AMERICAAAAA”

“I’m your host Yanna Bailey to Influncer Island. It’s new, it’s hot, it’s dramatic, and it’s your new obsession!”

“We’re bringing all of your fav influencers and Internet personalities across the country for a steamy hot adventure”

“You all know them”

“And you all love them”

“I have hand picked these hotties myself…some ofc more known than others none the less they are all wild and ready to come in swinging!”

“Before I introduce you to the men that will participate in influencer island I think it’s fair that I give you a run down of what this show will look like!”

“These 16 hotties will come in ready to pick some partners and participate in challenges”

“Each pair will receive points based off of where they place on the board and based off votes from the viewers aka you guys”

“At the end of each episode there will be a poll placed for voting”

“You guys will be able too vote who should stay, go, and receive a punishment, or a hot date”

“With that being said let’s introduce the men of INFLUENCER ISLAND.

“Coming in first we have the famous polo boy himself”

“Armin Arlert”!

“He’s best known on instagram for being the cute polo soft boy model as stated in his bio, the internet has named him the number 1 golden retriever baby and I couldn’t agree more!”

“Armin is such a sweet heart and I know he can’t wait to be here….but with him being a sweetie pie…will he be able to hang and get wild with the rest of the contestants?”

“Especially this chipped tooth, beer drinking, horse riding, dirty country boy gone viral”

“Reiner Braun”!!

“This big beefy boy best known on that clock app has gone viral for bringing his southern ways onto the app, Reiner caught the attention of many wild men and sexy ladies and was requested by the merrier”

“Currently living in Mississippi but we all know he’s a real south Floridian gator wrestling boy. He’s the perfect match for this cast”

“Next up we got this black cat clothing owner bertoldt hoover!!”

“Best known for his brand flontae clothing and getting hella wild on them boats, don’t let the pretty eyes fool you this city boy knows how to party”

“Kristen made that cast Okay!”

“Y’all know him cause he definitely produced your favorite songs”

“He’s worked with Nicki Minaj, lil Wayne, drake, lil durk, Kanye west, and so many more”

“However when he’s not in that Stu making beats he’s out hosting the biggest parties and filming it all letting us know he was a perfect candidate for this cast!”

“This hot head was requested by the executive producer herself, we’ve seen him whoop ass in that underground ring, we’ve seen him getting wild in the streets, we’ve seen him catchin ass on twt and we wanna see MOREEE!!”

“Everyone love porco”

“But I don’t think as much as y’all love this sexy stoner”

“Constance springer the man that you are”

“He’s 6’0 tatted like a chipotle bag and he is the life of the party! This skater boy most known on TikTok and YouTube is definitely influential and definitely deserves his spot here

“As stated himself he is a fine chocolate sexy black man”

“Get this! He’s also a brand ambassador for flontae clothing who would’ve known”

“Onyankapon, such a pretty name for a pretty boy.”

“We don’t know how wild ony gets and that’s why he was picked cause the whole world wants to see, he’s seen as someone who doesn’t do much. But I’m willing to bet as soon as he steps foot on this sand that will change.”

“And last but certainly not least”.

“Eren Yeager.”

“Or jaeger”

“Regardless this man dose not need an intro at all, you’ve seen him right with Beyoncé on her ivy park campaign”

“You’ve seen him on the front page of Louis Vuitton”

“You all love him and rightfully so he is something else sporting that black motorcycle when he’s not doing them photo shoots”

“You see these men? These are who are gonna be across your screens in the next few weeks!! Now just imagine the women.”

“On the next preview we will be introducing your favorite wild ladies! It’s your host Yanna Bailey signing out!”

How do you guys feel?😁

(Not proofread)

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katsu28 · 6 months ago

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ooooo “Making the other person a Spotify playlist with songs that remind them of their relationship and growth” for Lando???

thank you for requesting! hope you like this one <3

lando norris x reader, 1.3k, request something from here!

There aren’t many times you can get Lando all to yourself. His job comes with many responsibilities, as does your own. You understand the time and hard work it takes to do what he does day after day, week after week, and you like to think the two of you have found a way to balance it all. Dinners together whenever you can, texting and calling between meetings; you even have a shared calendar on your phones to keep track of your hectic schedules.

Racing takes precedence on most weekends, of course. Some of them you’re able to attend, but lately things have been getting busy at your workplace nowadays, which means you’ve been working weekends too. Weekdays are slim pickings as well, with all of the traveling and training and things you have to get done as well.

With all that’s been happening lately, you haven’t been able to spend nearly enough time with Lando. Late evenings at work, long training days—everything seems like it’s been piling up until the only time you really get to spend with each other on days that he’s home is right before bed. And even then, it isn’t long before one of you inevitably falls asleep first.

Which is why when you miraculously find yourself and Lando with a totally empty schedule today, free of any work related commitments for either of you, you’re over the moon. He suggests a day trip up the coast, just the two of you and the open road. Honestly, you don’t even care where you go, you just want to be with him.

You’d think he’d be sick of driving given what he does for a living, but he just presses a kiss to your temple, saying that driving with you is something he’d never tire of.

That’s how you end up here, sitting comfortably in the passenger seat of Lando’s Miura, fingers intertwined with his as he cruises down the coastline. Crystal clear water dotted with boats and even bluer skies on one side, beautiful scenery on the other, and the man you love sitting right next to you—what more could you ask for?

“Like what you see?” Lando’s teasing voice draws you out of your thoughts, and you refocus to see him still with his eyes on the winding highway ahead. But he’s grinning rather smugly, a grin that only grows bigger when you huff. “It’s alright, you can stare at me all you want. I know how sexy you think I am.”

“That’s bold. Maybe I’m admiring the view.”

“Yeah, and the view is called my carved-by-the-gods side profile.”

“Someone’s a tad self absorbed. You’re voted top three hottest drivers on the grid one time and you start getting a big head, hm?”

“I beat out Carlos, baby! Carlos fucking Sainz! You’ve seen the man, do you know how that makes me feel?”

“Is there something I should be worried about, Lan? Are you going to leave me for Carlos?”

Lando snorts, aiming a brief but still effective skeptically arched brow at you. “Please, if I was gonna leave you for Carlos, I would’ve done it already.”

“Oh, cheers. That’s reassuring.”

“Happy to help.”

“Can I play some music? I need to drown out the sound of your complete and utter betrayal.” You grumble, slouching in your seat with crossed arms. Lando laughs and nods, passing you his phone. He knows you’re just being fussy for the dramatics of it all.

You scroll through his Spotify playlists in search of something that looks interesting, but one in particular instantly catches your eye. Labeled “For my love” with an absurd amount of heart emojis after, you can’t help but feel like maybe, just perhaps this one might be for you. Or for Carlos, but you’re ninety percent sure it's you.

Next to you, Lando inhales sharply through his teeth like he’s just remembered something, hand shooting out blindly. “Fuck, wait, hang on—”

“Lando…” You say, only slightly teasing. All previous betrayal is instantly forgotten. You shift so his wiggling fingers can’t reach the phone, giggling a bit at the garbled noise that escapes from his mouth. He’s obviously figured out what you’ve just come across. “What’s this?”

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” He sighs, cheeks already flushing pink. “It was meant to be a surprise.”

“You made a playlist for me?”

“Well, yeah. It’s sort of embarrassing.” He mumbles, suddenly sounding bashful.

“Oh come on, don’t get all shy on me now.”

“Alright, fine! At first it was for me. Just songs I thought you’d like, and I’d listen to it all the times I was away and we couldn’t talk. Or if I was nervous before a race and started spiraling. And then…it just turned into songs that made me think about you. Made me think about us.”

“There’s hundreds of songs on here, how did you even—when did you even start making this?”

Lando swallows hard, knuckles flexing on the steering wheel.

“Honestly? The day we met. Call me a weirdo, but from the moment I saw you I knew you were it for me. Took both of us a while to get our shit together, but I never stopped believing it.” He says softly, hastening a glance over at you. He smiles and shrugs, reaching out to thread his fingers through yours once again. “And the songs…I dunno, they’re just my way of remembering how we got here. I meant to save it for our next big anniversary, but you’ve mucked it all up by being nosy, so now the cat’s out of the bag!”

“You’re so fucking cute, babe,” You coo, leaning across the center console to press a smattering of kisses to the side of his heated face. “You made a whole playlist for me and listened to it when you missed me? That’s the cutest thing anyone’s ever done, you sap.”

“Yeah, alright. You can shut up about it now,” He grumbles, but he still looks pleased. “Have a look through it. I think I’ve got some good ones on there.”

The more you scroll through the list of songs, the more you feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest. It mixes your music taste and his, and in a way, it feels very representative of not only who you are as individuals, but who you are with each other.

It reads like a letter to you, to your relationship. To who you were back then and who you are now, who you’ve grown into together.

There’s no doubt that in the years you’ve known each other, you’ve both changed. You’ve had good times and not so good ones too, but one thing that’s always remained is each other. From friendship, to teetering on something a little more, to finally finding love with one another, Lando has been the most unwavering constant in your life. You think that deep down, it was something you already knew, even from the first time you’d met him.

“I’m gonna fucking cry, Lando,” You whine, emotion seeping into your words.

“Why? Is it bad? Is it too much?” He looks worried, but he can’t exactly take his eyes off the road to see why you’ve had the reaction you did.

“No, no. It’s perfect.”

His shoulders sag in relief, and the smile returns to his face. “Oh. You like it?”

“I love it.” You lift your joined hands, pressing a kiss to his knuckles that has him positively beaming with adoration. It goes without saying, but you truly don’t think you could love a person any more than you love Lando. You don’t want to, because he’s it for you.

“You know what else?” He hums his piqued interest, likely expecting more praise. “Carlos can suck it. I got a playlist, what did he get? Absolutely nothing!”

“For fuck’s sake, I was kidding!”

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new fic :)

#requested!#lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 x reader #lando norris x fem!reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot #lando norris fluff

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deepdisireslonging · 8 months ago

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Cake or Cookies

A good round of sexy texting during girls’ night leads to sexy personal time when Bucky gets home.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x curvy!Reader

Warnings/Promises: food mention, descriptions of injuries (canon-level), dirty talk, sexting, SMUT, oral (both receiving), implied further smut

Word Count: 3080

Note: They can pry the Avenger Apartment/Tower from my cold dead hands. Everything’s fine, everyone is fine; what trauma? Why can’t we have nice things? I went hunting through some of my lost prompts and found a couple to squeeze together. Happy reading!

Girls’ night in the Tower was bound to be dangerous. It was usually when Natasha came up with the next round of pranks to play on the boys. And when Wanda took it upon herself to create the best pillow fort to watch movies in. Her magic made it easy to pile the couch pillows and blankets into what looked more like a cozy cave than a fort. And Maria kept track of where to find any films not already stored in Stark’s library.

You were in charge of snacks. Drinks were cozy only: tea, hot chocolate, and coffee. Alcohol parties were for other nights. Snacks ranged anywhere from home-made chips to hors d'oeuvres (fancy and simply indulgent), to the smorgasbord of mass produced favorite snacks you raided from the corner bodega. But you were stumped when it came to tonight’s desserts. The bodega’s sweet treats were present, cheap candy and the like, but you were stuck between the roll of cookie dough and a box mix for cupcakes.

Stumped, you didn’t acknowledge the warm body that ghosted up behind you until a hand slid across your waist. “It’s girls’ night. What are you still doing here?” Sitting down the treats, you turned in Bucky’s arms and scratched your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

He lightly kissed your forehead. “Needed a break from Tony. Can you blame me?”

“Not at all.”

You both inhaled deeply, cheek to cheek. The last mission had been a rough one. Most of the team had come back banged up. And you still had a nasty scrape of road burn up one leg. Which is why you were wearing the equivalent of biker shorts. Pepper had gotten them for you sometime after the social media trend of those leggings ladies liked to tease their S.O’s with. They were surprisingly supportive of your form. You usually wore them underneath your gear because they were borderline indecent. But, with one of Bucky’s oversized shirts covering your figure, nobody had commented.

Except for Bucky as he slid his hands down your body to rest over the curve of your ass.

“I thought these stayed out of sight?”

You teased a glance up at him. “Usually, yes. But It’s girls’ night. We all wear the equivalent of our pajamas since you boys will be out. You are all going out, right?”

He nodded. “Yes. Eventually.” But he didn’t move. He hugged you closer, brazenly tilting your head to one side with his nose so he could kiss the underside of your jaw.

“Y/L/N!” Natasha waved from the living room. “Are we ready to go, or what?”

A smile spread across your face. You lightly pushed Bucky away, making him whine. Natasha was already starting the voting poll for the evening’s movies when you turned back to the counter. “I’ve got to bake before the party starts. Do you have a preference for what sweets you’d like to be left over? Cookies or cupcakes?”

Bucky pressed up behind you, resting his large hands on the counter on either side of you, and griding his front into your ass. “Cookies. There’s enough cake in this kitchen already.” He slapped your ass, following with both his hands taking tight squeezes of your flesh.

As you gasped, he rushed out. The wink he shot you from the door warned you that the tease would not be the evening’s last.

Fifteen minutes later, the cookies were out, the movie was in, and everyone was settled into their favorite pile of pillows.

Five minutes into the movie, the texting started.

Lover Boy <3: “How’s the movie?”

You rolled your eyes as you turned your phone on silent. If Okoye heard your phone again, you’d never get it back. “We’re watching Magic Mike. So… It’s going well.” You added a smiley face with its tongue sticking out for good measure.

Bucky’s messages popped up every few minutes. You kept your phone screen towards you to see the notification light up your screen without bothering the other women.

Lover Boy <3: “Should I be jealous?”

You: “Nah. Their gyrating doesn’t do it for me.”

Lover Boy <3: “Good to know.”

Lover Boy <3: “Is there anything in the movie that does ‘do’ it for you?”

You smothered a chuckle into your blanket. Each passing second that you took to come up with a teasing reply was surly wreaking havoc on your man.

You: “Maybe. Who wants to know?”

His reply was slow in coming. When it did, you almost fumbled your phone into the floor.

Lover Boy <3: *image incoming*

The picture you received was of Bucky’s hand resting on the top of his thigh. They were out to dinner somewhere, the edge of the table blocking your photo view from the rest of the guys. In the curve between his forefinger and thumb, his bulge was the center of attention. You stuck a sucker in your mouth to cover up your gasp. But the other ladies were too busy hooting for the first dance scene to notice.

You: “Just him? I must be slipping. Especially since I thought you really liked my shorts earlier.”

Lover Boy <3: “I like those shorts because I like taking them off. Girls night got in the way.”

You: “You’ve got to come home sometime.”

Lover Boy <3: “Then what do you have in mind?”

You turned off the flash for your camera and waited for the TV screen to illuminate your face. Sucker holding down your tongue, you sneaked the pic. Before any of the girls could see and tease you. While it sent, you sucked on the round sugar treat. You imagined Bucky’s cockhead on your tongue, as you knew he would too. His reply came in seconds.

Lover Boy <3: “Minx”

You: “And?”

Lover Boy <3: “When I do get home, I’m going to taste something sweeter. All night long.”

Lover Boy <3: “If you can handle it.”

Biting your lip, you smiled into your blanket.

You: “We both know what I can handle. But can you handle what I want to do to you?”

You: “Bet I can blow you so good you forget how to speak Russian before morning.”

You: “Actually, bet I can make you forget all your languages.”

Lover Boy <3: “An official bet?”

Now it was dangerous territory. Neither of you would wager anything that would show in public. Or bring attention from the team inside the tower. But Bucky’s winnings had a steep cost on your ability to walk the next day. Yours usually meant him taking a few days off to spend time together in some distant cabin.

You: “Do we have time to disappear to the Rockies when I win?”

Lover Boy <3: “We just finished a mission. I’m sure I can convince Steve to leave us alone… at least for several nights in a row when I win.”

It was on.

He played dirty by escaping to the bathroom to shoot you a picture of his cock. It was already thick for you, proud and flushed in his palm.

You also escaped. But the picture you sent didn’t require you to take your clothes off. All you did was tug down the front of his borrowed shirt, and splay your fingers wide between your breasts.

You: “Can’t wait to squeeze you between these.”

Lover Boy <3: “9hey now…”

Good. His texting was already stumbling.

You: *picture incoming*

All you did was rest your hand over your throat. But Bucky’s reply of a bunch of scrambled letters made you laugh. You returned to the movie.

You: “Can’t wait for you to get home. But we’ve got about 3 more hours of movies to watch. Think you can last that long?”

Lover Boy <3: “If I have to. Might have to take care of myself before then.”

Wanda looked over as you squirmed in your seat.

You: “You can’t wait for me? I’ll wait for you.”

When the movie lit up enough, you took a picture of the pillow between your thighs.

Lover Boy <3: “Promise?”

You: “Say please.”

His reply, despite the distance between text and actually hearing his voice, dripped with promise. You bit your lip, hearing his growl in your head.

Lover Boy <3: “Since when do get to make the demands around here?”

Lover Boy <3: “Please.”

You: “Since I’m home. Away from the consequences of mouthing off at you till later.”

Lover Boy <3: “You’re not sharing this conversation with the ladies are you? You’re not usually this… sassy.”

You: “This sass is rated E for everyone. But, no. This conversation is just between us.”

You: “I have to stop texting. Natasha is beginning to notice.”

Lover Boy <3: “Until I get my hands on you:”

It was several minutes until you checked your phone, waiting for the others to drop their questioning looks. When you did, you had to smother your moan. He sent one last picture of his tongue out between his fingers. A promise of delectable problems to come.

***

Somebody texted the guys when the movies were almost over. They arrived halfway through you girls cleaning up.

“How was the double feature?” Tony asked. He snagged a remaining hors d'oeuvres off the tray before Maria could stick it in the fridge.

You didn’t hear the reply. All you could focus on was how lust-blown Bucky’s eyes were as he stared you down from the other side of the room. You pressed your thighs together. If the way your chest heaved was any indication, you were in for a long night. Steve barely gave you a glance when you walked past him. Bucky gliding past made him give your departure a second look.

The hallway to your room was dark. The lights that illuminated the floor wouldn’t engage fully unless there was an emergency. Which meant that your shadow was faded against the wall. And it was fractured into several clusters of shadows at reach installation. You didn’t look back. It was part of the game. You couldn’t hear him, but sometimes you could have sworn your shadows had an extra layer.

When you reached for your door handle, another hand beat you to it. Bucky pressed up behind you, pushing you into the room and pinning you to the inside of the door as he locked it. He slid his knee between your legs. Fascinated, he enjoyed the show as you slid the apex of your thighs across the muscle he gave you. He stopped your movements with a hand on your hip, while the other lifted your wrists above your head.

“Did you actually wait, or was that a tease?” He reached into your shorts, groaning to find your slick there. While you trembled, he loudly sucked his middle finger into his mouth. “Oh, ангел, I am going to ruin you. For teasing me like you did.”

“You – you started it. Technically.”

He brought one of your hands down to rest over the front of his pants. “Maybe. But you laid down the gauntlet. How do you want to do this?”

With a grin, you wriggled out of his grasp. You walked backwards towards your bed. Bucky stalked slowly after you. Turning, you ran your hands down your sides, to your hips. And back to the curve of your ass. “Cake?” You smoothed your hands up from your rear to your breasts. “Or cookies?”

Bucky groaned. “The whole damn bakery if I can get my hands on it.” He guided you onto the bed, crawling over you in a way that stole your breath. When you tried to roll him onto his back to begin the challenge, he chuckled. “Nuh-uh. Challenger goes second.”

“But-“

He silenced you with a kiss. As he deepened it, hands kneading into your flesh and removing your clothes, your rebuttal died on your tongue. He barely pulled back enough to remove his own clothes. It wasn’t long before he was working his mouth down your body, kissing and sucking and nipping at your skin until he made it to your sex.

Sometimes part of the challenge included a timer. Like that one gala when he dared you steal away with him during Tony’s speech, and cum before the ending round of applause. With his head buried under your dress, he won with enough time to participate in the applause for a speech you didn’t give a damn about. You didn’t find out till later that Steve had kept track of when you two disappeared and reappeared. Bucky wrote the time on your bathroom mirror as the time to beat. It had yet to be broken.

Tonight wasn’t one of those times. There was all the time in the world. All night to edge or overstimulate each other to your hearts’ content.

Breathing warm air over your sex, his grin between your thighs sent a ripple of goosebumps over your skin. You weren’t sure which was more disarming: his knowledge of your body and its sweet spots that he could make you cum in minutes, or that same knowledge used to bliss you out over hours till you couldn’t remember more than screaming his name. With his tongue, he began the challenge. As if you weren’t soaked already, he made a mess of you. Curling his fingers through your folds. Delving his tongue deep in search of the ability to taste you for days. When he scraped his teeth across your clit, the electricity tightened your fingers in his hair.

He wasn’t drawing this out. A man on a mission, Bucky was doing everything he could to bring you to the brink as fast as he could. The speed that you hurtled toward release stole your breath. That was his plan. Shock you while trying to beat his time so that you wouldn’t be able to speak. And then he’d win double the bragging rights.

And, damn him, it might just work.

Hungrily, he slurped up your pleasure. Adding a third finger to his onslaught, he curled them all to make you see stars. His metal arm flashed out to pin down your hips before you could arch away from him. The metal was cold, frigid, against your flushed skin. The difference in temperature was enough of an overload to your sparkling nerves that your eyes screwed shut. You babbled a series of sounds, making Bucky hum in delight.

But when he came up for air, gently stroking your folds to ease you down, you surprised him.

“Is that all you got, Barnes?”

“Fuck. Seriously?” He rested his cheek against the inside of your thigh.

You did your best to steady your breath. No point in revealing those six words were all you could manage. After another moment, you curled your own finger. You summoned him to hover over you, dangling his dog-tags in your face. Catching one between your teeth, you gripped and pushed his shoulders until he was on his back.

It was your turn to kiss down his body. Across his collar bone and pecs. Down that center chasm between his abs. From one hip bone, down his V, and up to the other side. As you took his length in hand, you had to smile. The poor man should have let you pleasure him first, instead of torturing himself and his cock with waiting. Gently, you circled your thumb around his tip. It dragged a groan out between his teeth. Good. The more vocal he was, the better you could track his ability to speak. Or lack thereof.

You set the challenge into the back of your mind and got to work in pleasing your man.

The first movements were gentle. And careful around how sensitive he was. Still, each touch and twist kept his voice active. He tried to watch you, but kept dropping his head back in pleasure as you quickened your movements. While he was laid back, you shifted your position.

His head snapped up, and he cursed loudly in Russian as his cock was enveloped between your breasts.

Darting out your tongue, you kitten licked the tip of his cock when it came into range. It gave you no small pleasure to watch your man, the Winter Soldier and former Commando, fall to pieces because of you. He cursed louder in English, Russian, and… was that German? But the more you jerked him between your breasts, the more his vocabulary scrambled together. You waited patiently. His metal hand twitched towards to before fisting the sheet. His flesh hand reached back for the pillows, sheets, headboard. Anything to ground himself. Then you struck. You let go of your breasts and dipped low enough to swallow him down. He roared as he bumped the back of your throat. Planting his feet on the bed, his thighs trembled with keeping himself from thrusting into your mouth.

That was fine. You moved enough for the both of you. And, just as his Russian was little more than the most strained of curses, you settled his balls into one hand, and slid the other up his torso. Your nails lightly caught his skin over his heaving breaths.

The high-pitched hiss from the depths of his lungs was your only warning before he filled your mouth.

Your ministrations slowed. You took every ounce of his pleasure, and smiled around his cock as you sucked your way off his length.

He dragged you up to bury his face in the crook of your neck. His lips trembled while trying to say something. Anything. But all he could do was pant into your skin.

You smiled. And kissed the underside of his jaw. While you both recovered, you murmured gentle reassurances between breaths.

“You cheated,” he finally managed.

“Oh? When did I manage that?”

Running his fingers through his hair, he stared you down. “Those damn shorts.”

With a laugh, you nipped at his chest. “What? You did get to take them off, like you wanted. And I can’t help it if you decided to run your hands all over me and get yourself hard. It jazzed me up too. So, in my mind, we’re even.”

“Fine.” He tilted up your face to kiss you. Mumbling against your lips, he complained, “you’re using alotta words there, ангел.”

“And you’re still capable of Russian.”

Bucky grinned. “Then I guess this challenge isn’t done.”

And it wasn’t until long into the night.

***

Ангел: angel

***

Masterlist

Marvel Masterlist

#bucky barnes x reader #curvy!reader #bucky barnes smut #avengers smut #marvel smut #bucky barnes fluff #reader insert #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader

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msschemmenti · 3 months ago

Text

country living

request: there needs to be more love for jemily x reader tho!! so im thinking like jj taking her partners back to pennsylvania to show them what it’s all about

jemily x reader

summary: jj’s high school reunion is happening and she convinces both her girlfriends to come to her small rural town in pennsylvania.

a/n: hey hottie!! thanks for the request— country girls shake it for me jj edit stans rise!! idk how rural east allegheny is but im making it very small town rural 🤠 hope you enjoy <3 if anyone wants the actual reunion part of this just let me know 🫡

“good evening lovers!” y/n smiled over her shoulder at the sound of her front door opening.

“lovers? that’s new.” emily mumbled as she rounded the kitchen island to the younger woman.

“you got a problem being one of my lovers?” y/n asked teasingly as she turned the heat down on the stove.

“not at all, just curious.” emily replied holding her hands up in surrender before placing a kiss on y/n’s cheek.

“i kinda like it.” jj mused slipping out of her shoes.

“you like anything that alludes to bedroom activities.” y/n rolled her eyes at the blonde.

“guilty!” jj sing-songed, coming to pinch y/n’s side affectionately. the younger woman turned the stove off completely and turned to face her girlfriends.

“dinner will be done in a little bit if you want any. oh and before i forget, i picked up your mail, it’s in the mail holder in the entryway.”

“thanks baby.” jj smiled, stepping back in the entryway to retrieve their mail. she shuffled the envelopes, scanning the senders as she walked back into the kitchen. she plopped down on a stool and passed emily a few bills before pausing at an invitation addressed to her. she slid her finger through the sealed envelope and pulled the invite out curiously.

“god, has it really been 25 years since i graduated high school?” jj mumbled as she flipped the card over.

“25 years?” y/n echoed. “i’m not even going to say what i was going to say.”

“oh god, don’t do that thing you do when you say how old you were during that year. it always makes me feel old.” emily grumbled.

“hey! i stopped myself. i can’t help it, it’s the only way i can track time.” y/n whined as she started plating dinner. “anyways, is there a reunion or something?”

“yeah, it’s in pennsylvania next month.”

“oo, are you gonna go?”

“maybe. i haven’t been home in a pretty long time. i’m sure my mother would enjoy that.” jj mused.

“if we don’t have a case, i think you should go.” emily added.

“i second that. you gotta show everybody how hot you still are.” y/n nodded, as they all settled around her small dinner table.

“well if i go, you two have to go too. what better way to show everyone how hot i am, than to bring my super sexy lovers.” jj pointed with a cheeky wink.

“to pennsylvania?” emily grimaced.

“yes? don’t look so happy about it.” jj rolled her eyes.

“i don’t know, didn’t you grow up on a farm or something?” emily continued.

“not on the farm, near yes. you’re acting like im gonna make you milk a cow and churn your own butter.”

“didn’t reid say you were corn fed once? is that not what that means?” emily questioned.

“can i wear cowgirl boots? i don’t have any but i wanna buy some.” y/n asked turning to jj.

“obviously neither of you have ever been to pennsylvania.” jj shook her head.

“right, but cowgirl boots. yay or nay?”

“i vote yes. i think you’d look hot.” emily voted.

jj sighed with a smile and shook her head, “god, i hope we get to go to this reunion.”

luck was surprisingly on jj’s side and she and her girlfriends were pulling up to her childhood home in East Allegheny early thursday morning.

jj put the car in park and slid out first and sighed as she gazed over her childhood home. y/n hopped out of the backseat, feet covered by the red leather cowgirl boots she just bought. emily slid out last, sunglasses blocking the sun and a soft flush from the morning heat.

“welcome to east allegheny.” jj smiled turning to face both women.

“how exciting! pennsylvania.” emily teasingly cheered, causing jj to roll her eyes.

“it is giving corn fed.” y/n spoke quietly as emily leaned into her side.

“oh shut up! you two are the worst.” jj pouted.

“we’re kidding we’re kidding!” y/n protested moving to wrap her arms around jj’s neck and pull her close. “we’re so excited to learn more about country living babe.” y/n grinned before puckering her lips in a silent request.

“mmhmm, you’re definitely dressed for country living.” jj teased, meeting y/n’s lips sweetly.

“just be glad, em wouldn’t let me wear my hat. i think it looked adorable.”

“adorable yes. i agree. but i think it was a little too on the nose.maybe save that for texas or something.”

“hater.” y/n rolled her eyes before hissing as emily pinched her bum in retaliation.

“alright you two, behave. my mom’s waiting inside and i’ve got a whole day of east allegheny things i wanna show you.” jj scolded.

“yes ma’am.” emily and y/n said in unison with giggles on their tongue. emily grabbed their weekend bags and followed behind jj and y/n as they headed for the house. as soon as the first stair creaked— the door flew open and revealed sandy jareau.

“hey mom.” jj smiled softly at her mother through the screen door. their relationship had definitely been strained in the past but sandy seemed to finally be accepting her daughter for who she was and who she loved.

“morning jenny. come on in girls. i just finished breakfast.” sandy corralled leaning to kiss jj’s cheek as she pasted through the door. both y/n and emily followed suit and smiled politely at their host. jj leads the way through the hall of her childhood, breezing past the soccer pictures and family portraits on the wall. but unfortunately for her— her girlfriends were not breezing past anything.

“oh my god, is that jj?” y/n asked on an excited gasp. jj groaned and turned to see where the younger woman had stopped in the hall. she shook her head solemnly when she realized she had stopped at the top of the hallway.

“oh yeah, little jenny.” sandy smiled over the younger woman’s shoulder. “i’ve got the pictures situated chronologically as you go further up the hallway. she’d just lost her first tooth.”

“oh i just wanna pinch those cheeks!” y/n grinned pulling her phone out to snap a picture to keep.

“i’ll have to get the album out before y’all head back.” sandy smiled heading toward the kitchen.

“oh god, don’t enable her. there’s no telling what she’ll do with those pictures.” jj whined.

“no no, don’t listen to her. mrs. jareau, i need to see every baby picture of jj you have in this house.” y/n called as she stuck her tongue out at jj teasingly.

emily hid her laughter behind her hand and placed her hands on y/n’s waist to guide her toward the kitchen of the small home. jj followed behind rolling her eyes at the giddy look on all the women’s faces.

“are we taking the truck? please say we’re taking the truck.” y/n bounced at the bottom of the steps looking up at jj. they’d all cleaned their plates and thanked sandy and now jj had a day of ‘country living’ planned for her two girlfriends.

“i kinda wanna see you drive a truck as well. is there a hat you’ll wear as well?” emily joined y/n at the bottom of the stares.

“oh it’d be so hot.” y/n mused bringing her hands up to pull on jj’s arm impatiently.

jj’s eyes moved from emily’s teasing smirk and y/n’s pleading pout and couldn’t help but grin under their attention. allowing the younger woman to pull her into her side, she placed a chaste kiss on her pouting lips. “fine fine, we’ll take the truck. since it’s in such popular demand.”

y/n cheered happily and made a beeline for the old red truck parked under the tree leaving emily and jj to watch her go. emily slung her arm over jj’s shoulder with a laugh, “she’s loving this way more than i thought she would.”

“wouldn’t be surprised if she’s got a thing for cowgirls.” jj said bumping her hip against emily’s.

“oh for sure.” emily agreed with a laugh. they watched as y/n climbed into the bed of the truck and turned to face them.

“can i ride in the back? i wanna feel the country wind in my hair.”

“no.” both emily and jj vetoed in unison.

“aww you guys are no fun.” y/n pouted but knew they weren’t changing their minds.

“emily!” jj called with her hands held out in warning.

“what?!” emily paused in her step.

“your foot is hovering over a huge pile of shit. and i know how many you’re going to be if you step in that.” jj pointed.

“oh yeah that’d be so gross. we’d make you ride in the bed of the truck.” y/n nodded turning to look at the poop in question. “oh my god— what kinda animal did that?”

jj laughed with a shake of a head and turned y/n back toward the way they were walking. “the horses.”

“have i been that obvious about my cowgirl thing?” y/n asked eyeing both emily and jj.

“we assumed but the look in your eyes confirmed everything we were thinking.” emily shrugged with a knowing smirk.

y/n nodded in acceptance before turning to face jj, “in that case, i need to see you up on that steed, now.”

“i can’t believe you just said steed.” emily deadpanned.

after spending the day on her grandfathers farm, jj pulled the truck into the only small parking lot lit up. it was about 9pm and east allegheny had fully transitioned into night life mode. which in a small town means going to ‘the hidey hole’ for darts, beers, line dancing, and fried onion blossoms.

jj slid out of the truck first and emily followed from the passenger door. after refusing to let y/n ride in the bed of the truck, she insisted on being squished between them in the front. with both women out of the truck, she scooted her way to the edge of the driver’s side and hopped into jj’s waiting arms.

“i think we should get a truck.” she smiled dreamily as jj placed her on the ground.

“you’re only saying that because you’ve been wedged between us all day.” jj shook her head in amusement.

“well yes, but think of the easy access a truck allows.” y/n grinned mischievously.

emily blew a huff through her nose as she rounded the truck and stepped behind jj, caging the blonde between them. “now she makes a very good point. i think we should hear her out.”

jj’s cheeks reddened and her eyes rolled, “you two are trouble. i’m starting to regret bringing you both here.” y/n and emily laughed joyously before both kissing one of jj’s cheeks affectionately and releasing her.

they all filed into the bar and nabbed a tall table in the corner. with both y/n and emily seated, jj nodded her head toward the bar. “i’m gonna go get us some drinks and an onion blossom.”

“an onion what?” emily asked as jj walked away.

“i have no idea. i can’t lie though, i’m kinda excited.” y/n clapped happily. jj returned shortly with three beers wedged between her fingers and a plate of fried deliciousness.

“oh it’s definitely giving corn fed.” y/n grinned, pulling the onion blossom toward her side of the table eagerly.

“baby, why’s your face on the wall?” y/n asked as she and jj set up for a darts game.

“oh no reason—“ jj started to deflect but was quickly interrupted by a bumbling gruff guy leaning against the wall near them. “she’s the only person who’s ever gotten a single treble 20 in this town.”

y/n looked between the man and jj incredulously, “so you’re basically famous?”

jj shook her head with a smitten grin and the guy nodded his head in agreement. “she’s hidey hole royalty.”

“oh my god, em! jj’s royalty! come take my picture with her picture.” y/n called across the bar— much to jj’s dismay. she was positive those beers were finally hitting her girlfriend and she couldn’t help but to laugh as she watched her pose with the framed photo on the wall.

full of cheap beer and love, jj stopped the rusty truck in the backyard of her house. with the car in park she turned to her girlfriends with a smile. “wait here, i’ll be right back.” she darted up the back porch and quietly opened the screen door to enter. y/n and emily watched her go, but stayed put as they’d been told. when jj reemerged she was carrying piles of pillows and dragging blankets behind her. she threw them into the bed of the truck and pulled herself over the edge to situate everything comfortably. once the blankets were placed to her liking, she knocked on the back window and motioned for both women to join her.

“i can’t believe i ate something called an onion blossom.” emily groaned as she shuffled closer to y/n’s side.

“i can’t believe you wouldn’t line dance with us. that was a once in a lifetime experience.” y/n grumbled.

“you get so much more dramatic when you drink.” emily spoke into the younger woman’s hairline.

“you got a problem with that?” y/n asked feigning aggression.

“quiet you two, or i’ll ground you both.” jj reprimanded teasingly, eyes trained on the star filled sky. they all dissolved into giggles, feeling so light and so full of love that they couldn’t contain it. when they quieted down jj spoke softly. “when i was younger my grandfather would set up the truck like this for ros and i every weekend. it was my favorite part of the week.” y/n pulled jj closer as they quietly listened to her story. “it’s probably one of the things i miss the most about her. it was like our special time together. we didn’t argue, she wasn’t completely annoyed by my presence and it was our sister time.”

emily reached across y/n to twine her and jj’s fingers in support. “you know that reminds me of my summers in paris with my grandfather in his isolated cabin. we’d spend the day hiking and fishing. and end the night in a hammock identifying constellations.” emily recalled.

“i know you’ve both been together for so long, but i don’t think i’ll ever get tired of getting to know you both.” y/n smiled up at the stars squeezing both emily and jj affectionately. they hummed happily and enjoyed the clear night sky. a true perk of country living.

#jemily x reader #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #jemily #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #msschemmenti

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court-jobi · 2 months ago

Text

For Your Eyes Only

💥Poll Reveal: Birthday Special💥

Pairing: Bakugou x tattooed!reader (fitting theme for biker!reader, no?)

Words: 2.2k

Rating: 18+ (heavy smexy insinuations near the end)

Warnings: NSFWish, reunited lovers, partial undressing, body worship, tattoos, possessive!Bakugou, basically foreplay, implied sexual touch, reunited and it feels so good

Summary:

Someone's missed their Pro-Hero while he's been off lighting up villains for seven weeks straight. The meantime does gives you the brilliant idea for a gorgeous new tattoo, though... all for your darling hero as a birthday present while he's away on mission, so you can keep the freshly inked secret close to your chest. Pretty nice surprise waiting for Bakugou to unwrap when he gets home, yeah?

A/N: Remember THIS POLL? Y'all gave me some splendid direction, thanks so much to everyone who voted! Might still very well run with some leftover ideas and make another fic for our other recipient (Birdie Boy Hawks), but hope you enjoy the winner~

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

"Ready for a surprise?"

Shrugging off his shoulder strap, Bakugou stares after you in snarky disbelief. He hasn’t even taken his shoes off yet, dammit. Still, he can’t help but smile.

"Hmm a surprise, huh? Takes a lot to surprise me, sweet thing…"

"Oh, I think I've done it this time,” you swing your hips on your way to the kitchen. “You haven't noticed it yet in all our calls- though I guess you haven't really had much chance to, lately."

"Tch– don't remind me,” he toes off his travel shoes by the table. “This whole ‘secret agent’ bullshit took way longer than I thought it would- been dying to get back to you. Haven't talked to you in days, or had decent reception enough to look at a photo in weeks; forget anything else. Speaking of…c’mere you.”

Bakugou slinks towards you, though you back up away from him, tugging your yukata taught from the back so he couldn't make a grab for it.

“What’re you runnin’ way for, heh??”

"Not letting you spoil it so fast there, babe~!”

You hop onto the kitchen counter with a couple careful adjustments to the overlapping ends of your robe, –sweet, sexy appeal coating your words.

"If you're gonna unwrap it, you've got to have a good view."

Bakugou teased the tip of his canines with an appreciative chuckle.

"You're my present, are ya?"

"Something like that."

Bakugou eyed you over with sneaky wonder. What on earth could you be hiding.

His attention trailed down your legs- socked, but otherwise bare. He steps closer to you, wedging between your legs with a forceful jut of his hips, and cups your jaw into a long, starved kiss. You won't be getting out from under his grasp anytime soon, he's makin’ damn sure of that.

It’s not your first kiss since Bakugou’s arrival through the door, but deeper than that quickie peck you'd given him at first sight. You’d hugged him tight around the neck in perfect bliss after such a long separation– only to dart away, killing any of his plans to never let you go.

That long-awaited kiss of greeting was kept painfully brief by Bakugou’s standards– followed immediately by your retreat to the kitchen, where you’re now acting the most secretive you ever have in your entire relationship.

He'd be crushed if he wasn't so confused.

Parting, he rumbles directly into your waiting mouth.

"What are you up to, pretty?"

"No funny business. Just a great surprise."

You’re toying with his hoodie’s knotted ends, cinching and uncinching the knots and seeking shy permission to strip him. Bakugou lets you, shedding his pullover that reeks of airport and leaving him in the black compression shirt he could trademark- wrinkled, half-rucked up his abs, and perfect.

To his surprise, you seem pleased enough with this level of undress and stop tugging on him altogether. At the moment where he’d expected you to slip his pants loose next, you merely push him back into place between your knees. Doing so allows the space to scoot just so towards the edge of the counter.

You brace back on your palms, posture up and cutting your sights down to where his hands trail across your waist: he’s calculating your moves for hints, few as they are.

"Go on and open it."

Bakugou's brow still worked together as he fought his edging smile.

What on earth could this be? His first best guess would be something sexy to wear, but he honestly finds that pointless since nothing lasts that long on you, anyhow. A laced-up view would be the most mouthwatering sight for the man who’s been starved of you for seven straight weeks… but he reckons this has to hold bigger shock factor.

Following your lead and gentle instruction, Bakugou sweeps an eager hand back with a jerk to untie your sash and then bends over to divide the curtain of your kimono to your hips, granting him the sweet heat of your calves, knees, thighs, and--

Bakugou's jaw goes slack.

Atop your left leg, creased at the flesh of your hip lay his intended surprise: a fully realized tattoo of gorgeous black and grayed ink.

The center of it all bore a gorgeously stylized pawprint -left empty of pigment for contrast- digging in slightly to the flesh, deliciously possessive, as if the full body were howling its word of ‘mine’ into the night.

Claiming its territory. Guarding its beloved.

Naturally, the design didn't stop there. The paw and its indentions laid surrounded by a burst of swirls and sparks resembling firework patterns: some as sunbursts, some as residual trails of light intermixing with haze. The most notable hailed the shape of ‘Dynamight’s fanned accents– mimicking the rays of the earth’s brightest star– known by just about every folklore believer for strength and victory.

This shading is impeccable: saturated to perfection and a gorgeous display of artistry. There are billows of ombre smoke that spread throughout the design, creating a nebulous effect throughout the background, leaning into uncanny imagery of a certain someone’s quirk.

Each element features his take on ‘lucky charms’~ branded right there on your skin.

The symbol was divine… and for a man with a faster tongue unafraid to speak his mind, Bakugou has no words.

Dumbstruck and in utter awe, Bakugou's fingers trail in slow motion towards your newest addition of skin ink. He releases a breath he hadn't realized he was holding back, crouching subconsciously to one side, revealing more and more skin with the lift of the kimono. The hipband of your underwear cut off the very spiky peak of a spark, but it didn't hide much of the body of the tattoo- all was plenty visible from the hip, down your thigh.

You sneak in a cautious breath with proud anticipation, drinking in Bakugou's every soft reaction. A little huff escapes your nose seeing your partner’s mouth hung open from the moment he locks sight of your leg– sights which have never parted since.

Not to speak, not to swallow, barely to blink.

"Happy birthday, Katsuki~" you nearly sing.

Finally, Bakugou tears himself from his trance to lock into your brilliant eyes, their bright points muted in this low light by the kitchen window.

"When-- hah- ho-?"

"You were gone almost two months, honey," you reminded with a twinge of sultry pride. "Once you got orders on the op, I booked the outline, then another session for the fill. Healed up just in time for you to come crashing in the door."

With your non-balancing hand, you twine your fingers over his, swiping over the lower half of the tattoo. The movement matches the curve of the curling tufts of smoke laid there.

Bakugou follows as you move his hand along by your guidance, leading him lazily until you trace it down to the bottom, not wanting to cover up anything.

Taking a slow knee to study it with careful hands cupping your thighs, you coo light in your chest with a loving stroke on your hero’s arm as Bakugou gets comfortable on his knees.

"This-- this is days worth of work, for you.." Bakugou muttered breathlessly.

"‘Bout three full days, start to finish. Larza did such a good job, didn’t they." you beam, crediting your artist. With a little sparkle, you hedge your newly revealed excitement, "--Do you like it?"

Bakugou's squint through his surprised joy was adorable- though he'd deny ever resembling anything close to the word.

"Sweet’eart... S'fucking gorgeous."

His weak slack-jawed look turned into a grin, which drives up into a breathless laugh.

But Bakugou is not done marveling yet…

You rake through his wild hair lovingly, doubling the intimate experience.

“Three days,” he husks, "That's a long time, angel. You stayed so still for this one- there's not a stroke outta place."

Recounting each of your other tattoos that lie either on both your arms or other bits of tender skin, this piece held significantly more ‘natural cushion’ to work with.

"Probably hurt the least of any of them, honestly. M'not gonna lie n’ say it was a breeze near the hip..but hell, was the finished product worth it."

At this, Bakugou finally shows an emotion other than ‘want’- a flash of concern tents his brow and firms his lips as he lifts up to you.

You could laugh about it now; all discomfort is long gone after the insanely prickly healing process.

"Not too much of course! Just the usual. But the itching- oof, that wasn't funny. Had to hide out here for the first two days- couldn't wear any clothes over it yet. Just me, your pillow, my Kindle, and a vat of lotion to keep me from going out of my mind from the blistering. N’ I couldn’t handle talking to you, or else y-"

“-You faked a head cold, you crafty little DUMBASS!!”

Bakugou pieced together your ‘random’ excuse for those days when he’d tried to touch base with you.

The sidenote of spending that much time alone -wearing next to nothing- sends Bakugou reeling into lust again in a heartbeat; all while you giggle at your successful ruse.

Gifts to your lifemate have all carried meaning and touched on every part of his identity. Whether it was a symbol of your connection, or a splurge that he’d been pining for but far too tight-fisted to award himself, you stepped in and would take extra care into a special, well-thought out present on these occasions you felt were worth celebrating– even if he’d sooner forget.

Bakugou’s arrival home landing on his birthday was a true afterthought to him; but not to you.

Your skin laid newly adorned with more stunning art– but more notably, laid nearly bare under his hands. Right where he craved them, and right where he could smell your very essence - just a little closer.

It’s no secret how much he loves every inch of you -inside and out- and in every curve and crevasse… and it’s here that his brain clicks together why you’d sat so precariously on the counter now.

Bakugou thanks you with his whole chest, the lovesick aura glowing even more beautiful with its rawness.

"This is absolutely beautiful- I love it, baby,” your striking boyfriend declares the impact your gift has had on him, "Fuck me, this is-- first the rings, then the new gauntlets, now this?"

"Well, anyone can see those first two in broad daylight,” you sass… then softer, “This one's just for you, Kats..."

"Damn right it is," Bakugou leans down, eyeing you before laying a euphoric kiss on the tip of your hipbone.

Heated lips kiss the same spot again, slower this time. Then another, further down. And again, and again- covering the art with wet lovemarks. You've moisturized the tattoo expertly, treating it with an essence of mango and verbena filling his senses– and a light coconutty taste, as he'd learned from the last time you'd gotten one done on your shoulder.

Passing over the wolf’s claws, Bakugou bared his teeth ever so much, rumbling a happy growl to make you laugh- then moan. Pleasure, adoration, obsession.

With a flash of crimson up to you, Bakugou hungered low and deeper still,

"Sounds like torture, angel. Don't know how you invite that sorta pain over and over…”

Affected by his slow worship along your leg, you subconsciously tuck that leg in; anything to give him more space to cover, make sure nothing is missed.

“I keep tellin’ ya, it's not too bad. You’d look pretty hot with some ink, yourself.”

While the man disagrees with a playful sarcasm, his respect for both your thoughtfulness -and pain tolerance- is enough to get him hard.

Bakugou fantasizes about the whole process: taking a wildly rapid pen to you, laid on your side naked from the waist down, drawn u[on as a living, breathing canvas… all with the sole intention to be marked for his eyes only, forever.

Three whole days.. Bakugou mulls over the work you’ve done. The statement you’ve made with this gift. The proud look in your eyes that doesn’t regret a single stroke, and has chosen to celebrate its claim on your body by giving him full rights to every inch of you…

“Wasn’t even ‘ere to hold your hand through it…” Bakugou offers sweetly. He would have been at your side, had he not been off saving the world yet again.

A touch of dominance comes through his observation, eliciting a delightful reaction he knows will follow. You affirm; giving a sweet, pliant moan of agreement, while you shake your head in a ‘no’ for your past loneliness. You’re ordinarily plenty self-sufficient even in his absences, but play the role of the left-behind lover adorably well.

While one powerful hand teases needy fingers over the seam of your underwear with the intent to rip them off and another reaches for your ankle with plans to chuck it over his shoulder, the birthday boy relishes in the sights, sounds, and feel of you already–

“...I should make up for your troubles now, shouldn't I?” Bakugou rumbles like spring’s telltale thunder in front of your core, ready and waiting to taste, “Gotta thank you properly, yeah?"

#bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #bakugo smut #bakugou smut #katsuki smut #spicy dynamight #mha bakugou

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navybrat817 · 1 year ago

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Ladies and Gentlemen

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: Bucky reflects on you and your date the morning after. Word Count: Over 1.9k Warnings: Tension, flirting, brief moments of insecurity, implied sexy times, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Bucky edit by Nix. Moodboard by yours truly. Previous Part of AU: Technically Innocent and Sinful, but posted part is Sundresses and Leather A/N: A bit more Hottie and Sugar from our Sin on Skin AU and you voted to go to his place! ❤️ I realize that I've skipped over Innocent and Sinful for now, but I really wanted to showcase Bucky and his feelings regarding the date and you. Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you for spitballing), but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky hummed to himself as he made breakfast, doing his best to move quietly around the kitchen. He normally only hummed along to the radio in his car, which you discovered during your date the night before, but he couldn’t help himself today. He was happy. He had a spring in his step he hadn’t realized was missing.

Turns out, the thing he was missing was you.

“So. My place or yours?”

Tiptoeing back to his bedroom, Bucky saw you asleep peacefully in his bed. It was a sight he could get used to. Your gentle breathing and serene expression brought a small smile to his face as he leaned against the doorframe. When he woke up earlier with you in his arms he feared for a moment that he was dreaming again, like he had in his shop. But when he placed a kiss on your forehead and received a sleepy moan in response, he knew it was real.

So was the night before.

Bucky held back a groan as some of the images of the two of you together replayed in his mind, his eyes closing and only serving to enhance what he was already thinking about. He wanted to be a gentleman to you. He tried. After your last prick of a boyfriend, you sure as hell deserved that. Which was one of the reasons he was making you breakfast, as tempted as he was to climb back in bed and wake you.

Told you I’d take care of you, Sugar.

You opened up to and for him so beautifully. You were nothing short of an angel. His angel. His Sugar. It was crazy to think like that after one date, but there was something there and that was before he took you out. And you already planned what the next two dates would be, which he was looking forward to.

Even if our first date didn’t go as planned.

It turned out for the best. Even better than he could’ve imagined. He refrained from leaving a negative review online at that restaurant for mixing up his reservation, which was a blessing in disguise. The place was far from his style, but he saw it as a chance to impress you when his other plans fell through. He should’ve known better and gone with his instinct to take you to a place like Antonia’s from the start.

The smile slipped from his face as he remembered you talking about your mom, his fists lightly clenching. If he ever had the chance to meet her, he’d have a hard time staying silent about how she treated you. As if you sensed the sudden tension rise within him, you shifted closer to his side of the bed and rubbed the spot with your hand. The sight soothed him. For you to tell him something so vulnerable, to trust him, gave him a glimpse of how strong you truly were. Because it took strength to open up and stay kind when others tried to knock you down.

I’ll catch you.

Silently dashing back to the kitchen so he didn’t burn anything on the stove, he pushed the thought of your mom out of his mind as he finished up. He wasn’t going to focus on the negatives today. Not when he had you at his place. Maybe he could convince you to stick around for a bit after breakfast if you didn’t have plans.

Before he had a chance to wake you, someone knocked three times on the front door.

Steve.

He wondered if the noise woke you as he glanced down the hall, but he didn’t hear any movement as he headed toward the door and yanked it open before Steve could knock again. Sure enough, his best friend had his fist closed and ready. “Not dressed?” he asked as he lowered his arm.

With a shrug, Bucky glanced down at himself. “I’m wearing sweatpants,” he said, which he only put on to cook for you. “What are you doing here? It’s my day off.”

“Is that how you greet your best friend, jerk? After I came all the way over here?” He asked, looking back and forth as he pushed his way inside. “You weren’t answering your phone and you usually don’t sleep this late.”

“Come on in, punk. And don’t act like you drove across town to see me. We live in the same building,” Bucky said sarcastically as he shut the door. “So because I didn’t answer my phone on my day off, you decided to come over? Really? You’re spying, which you’re terrible at because you’re a terrible liar.”

The blonde pushed his hair back as his gaze swept the apartment. “I’m not spying, but come on. You have to tell me something. Jake and Hal won’t shut up in the group chat. Even Andy asked about your date and you’ve ignored everyone,” he argued, following Bucky to the kitchen.

Bucky couldn’t find it in himself to feel annoyed at Steve showing up or at the rest of the guys for wanting to know how the night went. They looked out for and supported each other. The fact that they all liked you made them root for the two of you more. “I wasn’t trying to ignore you guys,” he said, not saying he didn’t answer anyone since he was preoccupied with you.

“So, how did it go?” Steve asked, a hopeful look in his eyes.

Perfect because it was with Sugar.

“Minus getting rained on and the restaurant screwing up the reservation, just fine,” he said, giving a quick rundown of some of the details. He left out the heart-to-heart conversation in your bakery. Steve was his best friend, but that wasn’t any of his business.

“It didn’t go the way you wanted to, but it was ‘just fine’? Judging by that smile on your face, I take it the date went well,” Steve said.

Very well.

Bucky managed not to smirk as he set out two coffee mugs. “A gentleman never tells. Now do me a favor and get the hell out of my apartment. My breakfast is getting cold.”

“I know you have an appetite, but this much food?” Steve said, nodding to the two plates. “Considering I showed up unannounced and you already had two plates out, I’m guessing you weren’t planning on feeding me.”

“Mmm. Something smells delicious. Oh! Hi, Steve.”

Bucky sucked in a breath when he turned his head and drank in the sight of you. You had a sleepy expression on your face, which was adorable, but it was the fact that you were wearing one of his shirts that made his heart stop in his chest. You toyed with the hem as you smiled, your gaze on him and not on Steve. He wondered if it would be too much to ask you to wear one of his shirts while you worked in the bakery.

I can have a dress made out of one of my shirts, right?

“Good to see you.” Steve smirked before he looked at his friend. “A gentleman never tells, huh?”

Bucky allowed himself to smirk this time. “I didn’t say a word.”

“Oh, he’s very much a gentleman,” you said as you joined Bucky and slid an arm around his waist. His arm instinctively went around your back, his fingers gently touching you through the fabric. “He’s also a sorcerer. Or maybe a magician. I’m not sure which.”

Steve’s brows furrowed as he glanced at Bucky. “You’re a what?”

“Well,” you said slowly, biting your lip before you looked at Bucky. “There’s this magical thing he does with his tongue where-”

The blonde held a hand up to stop you. “And that’s my cue to leave.”

Yeah, because my cue of telling you to leave wasn’t enough, Punk. Now go so I can do that thing with my tongue again.

“Told you a gentleman never tells,” Bucky stated, pulling you closer by the waist. It amazed him how perfectly you two fit together. “I never said anything about my girl speaking.”

Your eyes lit up at the small endearment, making his heart race. “Should I tell him about your massive-”

“Text me later!” Steve said, giving you a small smile before he quickly showed himself out.

Bucky chuckled when the door shut. “Don’t let his modest act fool you. He’s far from innocent,” he joked. Steve respected women though.

“I think he was trying to act like a gentleman for my sake,” you teased. “And if Tess knew where you lived, she probably would’ve shown up, too.”

With a chuckle, he nodded in agreement. “How’d you sleep? I would’ve stayed in bed with you, but I wanted to make you breakfast.”

Are you sore? Do I need to take care of you?

“I slept very well, thank you. And breakfast in bed sounds like the perfect way to start the day,” you said, touching his cheek. He could stay wrapped up in bed with you all day if you'd let him. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Best night of sleep I’ve had since I can remember,” he answered honestly, his eyes soft as a full blown smile spread across your face.

You leaned in to brush your lips against his before you stopped yourself, some of the light fading from your eyes. “Sorry. I haven’t brushed my teeth and my breath probably stinks-”

Bucky closed the gap to kiss your lips. He didn’t care if you brushed your teeth or not. “Taste sweet to me, Sugar,” he whispered, taking possession of your mouth again to leave you breathless. He wanted to taste every part of you and sweep away any insecurities or doubts that tried to take over.

You pulled away to take a breath. “Keep kissing me like that and I won’t eat this breakfast you worked so hard on.”

“Did you purposely say ‘hard on’?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you. “And I don’t mind feeding you my-”

You covered his mouth with your hand, giggling. “Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say.”

He licked his lips when you moved your hand away. “I was going to say I don’t mind feeding you my food,” he told you with a blank expression since he couldn’t feign innocence. “You’re a dirty girl for jumping to conclusions.”

“I’m not a dirty girl. I’m a lady,” you protested, inhaling sharply as he began to back you up against the counter.

“You look good in my shirt. Really good,” he said, his voice gravelly and low as he flexed his fingers on your hips. “Tell me to stop, Sugar. I already wore you out once and you need to eat so you have your strength.”

Because I want to ruin you all over again.

“So I have my strength? You sure I didn’t wear you out, Hottie?” You questioned.

He found himself laughing as you tilted your chin up. Not at you. Never at you. No, it was that happiness creeping back in at how the two of you fell in sync. The banter, the ease. He wished you could see yourself through his eyes and feel what he did.

He’d continue to find ways to show you how special you were.

“How about we agree that we wore each other out? I think that’s what happened.”

You gave him a single nod. “Looking forward to us wearing each other out again.”

Me, too, Sugar. Me, too.

He's a dream, isn't he? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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hotvintagepoll · 11 months ago

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Propaganda

Clark Gable (Gone With the Wind, It Happened One Night)—There's no proof that Clark Gable stripping in It Happened One Night caused the sale of undershirts to take a nosedive, but there's also no proof that it didn't do that. And either way, him saucily undressing for bed in front of a woman who was married—not to him—is too deliciously scandalous to ignore. He deserves votes for this scene if nothing else. He got an Academy Award for this movie! He could play comedy just as well as drama, he earned medals for his bravery as a bomber gunner in WW2, he competed in car races, he has a great mustache and perfect eyebrows for sexy smirking, he's just HOT.

Sidney Poitier (Lilies of the Field, To Sir With Love)—an unbelievably beautiful man, a complete class act. Something about his eyes breaks my heart every time.

This is round 3 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Clark Gable propaganda:

"Listen, he was "the King of Hollywood" for a reason and a suave motherfucker. Also a Major in the air force during WWII!"

"So Clark Gable was the king of Hollywood for a reason but honestly what makes him hot to me is his relationship with his wife Carole Lombard like if she loved him so she can't be wrong. Their relationship is so tragic like they met first when they filmed No Man of Her Own in 1932 and like there was nothing between them then but in 1936 they met again at a Hollywood party and this time things were different. Basically from that moment on they were inseparable and had to carry out their romance in secret until his divorce was finalized (he was separated when they met again at the party) and then they eloped in 1939 when he had a break during filming Gone With The Wind. They had a 20 acre farm together with horses, cows and chickens and they loved to do all those outdoorsy activities together. When they were apart for various work obligations they would send each other goofy gag gifts. In 1942 Carole was on a trip to sell war defense bonds when on the flight back home her plane crashed in the mountains of Nevada. Her death devastated Gable he flew to Nevada and demanded he be taken to the spot where the plane crashed despite the dangers posed by its location. Amongst the wreckage they found a hair clip he had given her for Christmas. Her death forever changed him he became more reckless and signed up for the US Army Air Corps in 1942 and he kept her bedroom unchanged in their home. He never stopped loving her when he died in 1960 he was buried next to her. I know Clark wasn't a perfect person and their is some speculation that she was racing home on that plane to him because she was worried that he was having an affair or something but relationships are complicated especially ones occurring in 1930s and 1940e Hollywood amongst two of the biggest starts at the time. (I just wanted to include this so ya know I'm not just looking at their relationship as all sunshine but like you can't deny the love they shared)

"They had an ineffable quality in romance, the ability to have fun together... they were soulmates who thought life was delicious, and they made everyone's life delicious around them" -Esther Williams

"GWtW is an epic stretching across years so Clark has a chance to show off a whole bunch of different sides, from Hot Outsider to Husband to Father and so on. But his most attractive is his final line of the movie, made only better by the story that he lobbied the Film Industry to ‘Let Rhett Curse!’ And who is more classic 30s Hollywood than this man?"

"Also apparently his name was Billy Gable then Glark Gable before finally landing on Clark Gable. A fact that I cant forget now glark gable lives in my mind now"

Sidney Poitier propaganda:

#sidney poitier #clark gable #hotvintagepoll #round 3 #fuck that old man!!!#i'd like to present the hottest man of all time: glark

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holybibly · 1 year ago

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Object of Desire | OT8 |

Pairing: otx8 x reader

Genre: sugar daddy au, dark romance, smut, vampire au,

Word Count: 9.2 k

Summary: Caught in a web of deceit and forbidden pleasures, Nabi quickly learns that some obsessions can be deadly and love can bite.

WARNING: only!18+ Blood drinking, blood kink, obsessive behavior, voice kink, daddy kink, master/pet game, pet names, explicit sexual content, explicit language, emotional manipulation, possessive behavior, seduction, BDSM, polyamory, mirror sex, marking, voyeurism, power play, and more.

Disclaimer: I do not support themes of violence, obsession, possessiveness, or emotional or psychological manipulation. This book is intended for entertainment purposes only.

A/N: I honestly didn't expect so much interest in this story and I'm so happy to see these cute 'hearts' popping up in my notifications all the time. I'm an emotional mess. And so, even though I know I should be concentrating on "The Divine Rosa", there are too many other ideas in my head that I can't (won't) ignore, so here we go. "Object of Desire" will be different in style, so I hope you'll love it as much as my main work "The Divine Rosa". A promised bonus for everyone who voted for Seonghwa in the poll will be released this weekend. I'll try to release Woosan next week, the preview will be out this weekend. Comments are welcome, I really appreciate your reactions. If you'd like to be added to the tag list for this or future updates, let me know in the comments. Divider @saradika

Part 1. Do you want to make a deal with the Devil?

Now going out of town in the middle of the night with Yeonjun seemed like a bad idea.

A very bad one, I thought.

God, what was I thinking when I agreed to do this? Yesterday, this whole venture seemed like a great way to solve my problems, but now the prospect was not so rosy.

Sometimes I feel like a complete idiot, and this is one of those times.

Outside the window the dark landscape was sweeping by at high speed; the bare trees were shrouded in an ominous gloom, and only the dim light of the tall street lamps over the road was the only source of illumination to guide us in the darkness.

It seemed that the darkness around us did not stop Yeonjun from driving. His posture was relaxed and his hand was sure as he turned the wheel in the right direction, the diamond bracelet on his thin wrist sparkling with starlight. One of the many family jewels that Yeonjun treated with special affection.

In contrast to him, I couldn't relax and kept fidgeting on the leather seat made of black Iberian leather, no less.

Every part of my body was begging me to stop and come home before it was too late. Not so, I had imagined that we were going to an elite club. I knew that we would be there late at night, but the fact that the club was way out of town came as an unpleasant surprise.

At the moment it's an hour's drive from Seoul and more than an hour and a half to the destination on the GPS.

The whole thing was strange and made me dizzy, or was it the thick smell of Yeonjun's perfume? It was a dense, smoky scent with a hint of vanilla. Powerful enough to draw the eyes of everyone around to its source, and sexy enough to make you want to kiss the naked skin of the wearer of this tantalising scent.

It would be several days before I was able to wash off the remnants of his perfume after our meeting, so much of it had eaten its way into my skin.

I glanced at Yeonjun; a stray yellowish-white light from the lantern momentarily illuminated his face, and a shadow of long velvet eyelashes fell on his pale cheeks. His black raven hair was streaked with flashes of platinum and gold. He looked otherworldly - I would even say demonic.

I felt a palpable shiver run through my body, as if someone had just dipped my heart into a bucket of icy water.

"Jun." My voice was terribly uncertain. "I don't think I can do this." I said as my fingers pulled down the hem of a short dress. The expensive material looked luxurious in a perfect shade of white and was decorated with a sprinkling of crystals. Yeonjun insisted that I wear it tonight and said that I would be grateful for it as soon as we got to the club. I don't think I'd ever choose something like that for myself, and not just because of its crazy cost; Jun's fashion preferences were so different from mine. He was a fan of overt sexuality and bold lines; I, on the other hand, preferred neutrals and comfort. "I have changed my mind; this proposal does not suit me at all. Maybe we can go back..."

Yeonjun smiled softly as he turned to me, but in the darkness of the drawing room the smile was more ominous than reassuring, his lips the most breathtaking shade of red I had ever seen.

Warning bells began to ring in my head. There are times when you can sense danger even before you are faced with it.

"Nabi, my dear, there is nothing for you to be worried about. We have already discussed this. Remember?" His hand was cold as he laid it on my knee. "I will take care of everything. You're my guest tonight, which means you're under my protection." The long fingers shrank a little, a kind of confirmation of his words. His fingernails were painted glossy black, and his fingers were adorned with several silver rings.

I would like to believe that nothing is going to happen to me, but my insides are tied up in a tight knot of fear.

Miss Kim Seoyun's words echoed in my head like thunder: "Humble yourself and surrender to destiny; you are where you are supposed to be.

When did I start believing all this? This is no time to panic, Nabi.

Everything will be fine.

To be honest, Yeonjun was never my first choice when I needed help, and I always tried to keep a certain distance from him for a number of reasons. There was something so predatory about him, almost animalistic, that lit up the red lights of danger, but I was desperate; student loans, rent, insurance and food were starting to pile up. I was in desperate need of money, and preferably a lot of it, fast.

The threat of being left out on the streets and being thrown out of university has never been as real as it is now.

The only thing that gave me the slightest bit of confidence was Jimin's assurance that I could trust Yeonjun completely and how carefree he was.

Damn, Jun looked like we were going on a spontaneous romantic trip instead of a closed elite club outside the city in the middle of the night.

I asked myself again, "Why did I agree to this?" Oh yes, money. A lot of money.

A few days ago, Yeonjun contacted me and offered to help me with my money problem. Of course, Park Jimin couldn't keep his big mouth shut and told him about my problems. He told me that one of his friends at the private club had a good deal for me. I could make a lot of money out of it.

The income was enough to pay off all my debts and the number of zeros on offer was enough to turn my head.

It was an unequivocal and desperate "YES" and at that moment I did not think at all about the consequences or the characteristics of this proposal.

Jun also promised me a lot of fun but after I signed the NDA and read the multi-page contract with its veiled meaning and rather vague wording of some specific points, doubts blossomed in my chest, and I began to understand what kind of fun was being discussed.

Looks like I made a deal with the Devil.

The dress was delivered on the eve of our trip, a few hours before Yeonjun's chic Ferrari pulled up outside my dorm room. The all-white gown, richly embroidered with blue topaz and opal, was incredible. The plunging neckline of the corsage barely covered the lace bralet of the same colour as the dress.

I have never seen my breasts look so full and so soft. I would even call it seductive. Everything I moved had to be clean and graceful; if I moved too sharply, the soft pink halos of my nipples would start to show. This was beyond the limits of my modesty. At one point, I could even feel Yeonjun's searing gaze resting on my cleavage. It was a carnal look with a shadow of hidden lust in the depths of the dark, shining pupils. It was the first time in the several years of our dubiously friendly communication that he had shown such a desire for me.

The dress and underwear came with four-inch heels. Of course, if my life had been in danger and I had tried to escape, there would have been no chance of success. Incidentally, I'm a terrible runner; I bet I couldn't have run more than ten meters before I collapsed with breathlessness. I should have gone to the gym when Jimin offered it to me.

Oh my God, Nabi, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?

Jun's silky voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"You have such a tense look on your face, my darling." He purred. "We'll be there soon, Nabi. Try to relax; you're going to love "Crescent", I'm sure."

Why did it have such a sinister ring to it? "Crescent" - the name was sweet enough, I would say poetic, but the way Yeonjun rolled the word over his tongue as if he could feel its taste - thick and viscous - made the name something forbidden and sinful. Well, the idea of the cult was not so absurd to me. And that stupid prophecy never left my mind.

"You're where you should be..."

In the reflection of the small mirror in the car, I met my gaze. My pupils were dilated like those of a hunted prey. And though I tried to calm down, I could feel the cold, predatory touch of Yeonjun's hand all too well. Baby, it looks like you're going to get caught.

I ask myself again. Why did I find myself in this situation?

Dressed in the most luxurious designer clothes, like a real doll. Ready to become an exclusive blood donor for a very wealthy private community whose clients needed this kind of service, accompanied by one of Seoul's wealthiest heirs.

Now I can say: "Hey, Nabi, you really screwed up."

❤︎❤︎❤︎

A few days before the visit to "Crescent"

I looked again at the envelope lying on my bed. It had been delivered early in the morning, when the whole city was in a half-awake haze and the streets were not yet filled with coffee and fresh pastries from charming little cafes. The envelope was just left on the door, as if it were something unwanted, without bothering to deliver it to the to the addressee.

Why do we even pay for a delivery service?

He's been there for a couple of hours with the overdue bills and some flyers. I found him on my way to get a life-saving coffee, which had to be postponed due to the unexpected arrival of this mysterious object.

And that didn't make me feel any happier at all.

The thick, dark purple paper looked regal and too expensive to be mediocre; usually such envelopes contained bad news or invitations to a private bohemian reception, but it was too fancy for the former and impossible for the latter. Poor students can't get into high society unless they spread their legs in front of someone's wrinkled dick. And I wasn't inclined to do that.

I took the envelope back to my room and put it on the bed. It looked impossibly ridiculous—I would even say vulgar—surrounded by fluffy pink pillows and a variety of stuffed animals—a small army, as Jimin liked to put it. The envelope was a perfect match for its sender—luxurious, vulgar, and obscenely expensive—the very embodiment of Yeonjun's tastes. Judging by the ten missed phone calls and a whole bunch of messages, Jun wanted to make sure that the envelope had been delivered. He even linked it to Jimin, which almost offended me.

I still remember how, on a stupid whim, I had to dye his hair pink in the middle of the night while his sweet, high-pitched voice babbled something like, "Make me look like the Sugar Plum Fairy." After that, you swore to be absolutely loyal to me, Jimin.

All men do is lie.

I didn't have the strength to play in peepers with purple paper. It was giving me a headache. I also had to give an answer to one of the culprits in this situation; otherwise, the scale of the drama would reach the dimensions of the universe.

Come on, Nabi. It's just an envelope. It won't bite you.

After I had settled down comfortably on the bed, I decided to begin to reply to Yeonjun's message.

"I've received the envelope with the documents you told me about, Jun. I'm so grateful for your help." Okay, that was nice, maybe. Or at least I wanted it to be that way. I'm definitely not going to text him to say that I've been deliberately ignoring his texts and calls. Anyway, we had a pretty interesting relationship with Yeonjun. They were never very sweet. The second one was for Jimin, and as my fingers were hovering over the letters with the first apologies, the phone started to vibrate.

Our photo with Jimin flashed on the screen. We were on a trip to Pusan, his hometown. The golden beach in the purple sunset, smiling Chim and Taehyung—his gorgeous boyfriend-and me with a grimace, burnt shoulders and one shoe in hand, the other lost in an unequal battle with tidal waves. When you look at this photo, you can immediately say that it is summer, my least favourite season. I don't even know why it was necessary for them to drag me along on this trip. Most of the time I was on my own. While Chimin tried to lick Te's tonsils or fought off the frat boys who thought buying a sugary-sweet cocktail would magically open my legs. So that was how two weeks of my "fun" summer holiday went by.

And here we are again, back to the lie. Let's go; it'll be fun, they said.

How this photo ended up on Jimin's contact screen is still a mystery to me. But that's not the point now. I took a deep breath and picked up the phone:

"Hi baby."

"Oh! Did you really answer my call instead of ignoring it as usual? How can you treat me like this? I am your soul mate. The only light in your dark world; you don't love me at all?" There was the sound of a fake sob on the other side of the phone. "I've never been ignoring you, Chim." I didn't get to finish because I was interrupted.

"I've called you a lot—eighteen times to be exact. And you, my dear butterfly, haven't answered a single call. You're making me nervous, Nabi, and that's making Taehyung nervous."

"If you'd let me finish, then you'd know how much I love you and how impossible it is to ignore you." He couldn't see my smile. But I'm sure he could feel it in my words. "You are the only light in my boring life; will you forgive me? And please apologise to Tae. I know my sunlight can be quite unbearable sometimes. So why did you call me?"

"First of all, I wanted to know if you'd received an envelope from Yeonjun; you don't answer when he calls, so he called me. More importantly, have you opened it, Nabi?" He asked, sounding genuinely interested as he spoke.

"Yes, Chim, I got the envelope." I ran my fingers over the dark purple paper in a thoughtful manner. "And no, I didn't open it yet. I'm not sure I even wanna. Is this a good idea, Jimin? All of it?"

"You're being too dramatic, in my opinion. Jun wants to help you. All you have to do, my beautiful butterfly, is relax and accept his help. Sometimes sweet little girls like you just need someone who can solve all of their problems for them." Jimin told me in a patronizing way. In a way, I had to agree with him, but hey! I'm not a damsel in distress or a sugar baby; even though I was in trouble, it wasn't as bad as it looked. Jimin's a bit of an exaggerator. "It's not that hard. You go to the club with Yeonjun, have fun, and in the morning you have a few thousand dollars in your account. How does that sound for you?" Park Jimin had a very annoying way of being right all the time. It really wasn't that hard to accept Yeonjun's offer, earn enough to pay off your debts, and take a little time out of the eternal race for money. In the end, I have to think about myself sometimes.

"Okay, I'll listen to you and try to relax. One last question, though: Are you trusting Yeonjun?" And this question made me feel much more uncomfortable than the secret clubs, the elite society, and the complete financial crisis.

"Absolutely." Now his voice sounded confident and serious. "Nabi, Yeonjun and I have been friends for years. I'm sure you'll be safe around him. Jun wants the best for you, and so do I, and if you'll let us, we'll give it to you. You do know that you can ask me for anything, right?" The warmth and care that I could hear in every single word that he said to me warmed my heart. "I am not going to ask you for money."

"You're a stubborn, willful, and terribly categorical bitch, and now I can understand why you haven't had sex for so long. Can't you just let me and Tae look after you? Say the word, and you'll have the whole world to yourself. Sometimes I honestly don't understand how I can love you with such intensity. Given your utter inability to take advantage of opportunities. We're the best package deal ever. Do you know that? Where else are you going to find such a good dick and a black card as a bonus?" He asked.

"Jesus, Jimin! You can stop this. We're not fucking, is that clear? And I'm not going to take your money, even if you try to put your credit card in my hand every time. I can handle this on my own. "I shouted in a huff.

"OK, don't be uptight." He was such a bitch sometimes. He really enjoyed irritating me. "But I'm right. Aren't I? It's been a long time since you've been scolded. Go on, say I'm right. Come on, Nabi, tell me everything. Are you playing with yourself, dirty girl, or do you need to be taught a lesson? I want details."

There were times when I couldn't understand why God was punishing me in this way, but I guess it was the reckoning for the sins of my ancestors that could come in the form of the pink-headed Park Jimin.

"I hate you. I wasn't serious.

"I know." Chimin said cheekily. "By the way, to calm your nerves a bit, I'll tell you. I personally know some members of the club you and Yeonjun are going to. They are Taehyung's friends, so have no fear. But the best thing about these clubs are the men. Nabi, there are men there who make me believe in the existence of Greek gods and fallen angels." Jimin said it dreamily. "God, I would show them how flexible I can be if I didn't go out with Tae."

"All right, stop with that. I get it." I wasn't in the mood to listen to the dirty fantasies of my best friend right now. Especially when you consider the fact that he was absolutely right about my sexual life. I'd been single for a long time.

"Okay, nun, I won't corrupt you; otherwise, you'll have a desire for sex."

"Park Jimin!" I squealed.

Jimin just laughed out loud on the other side of the phone.

"I won't do it again. I promise." Actually, I didn't call you in the first place because of Yeonjun or your arrangement, but I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go somewhere with me.

"Where exactly do you have it in mind?"

"Do you have any idea about Paradigm?" "That fancy spiritualist boutique on Instagram everyone's talking about? I've had a bit of a hearing about it." Why would Jimin want to go to Paradigm? It was a place that was just as private and secret as the one that I had to go to with Yeonjun. "I have to pick up some packages for Taehyung; you know he's obsessed with all kinds of mystical stuff, and this damn boutique only gives out packages—no deliveries—can you imagine that? It feels like the Holy Grail, not a silly amulet."

"As defined by your style with Tae, it sounds terribly stilted and expensive. Sure, I'll go. Give me an hour or so; I need some time to pack."

"Fine, I'll pick you up. Wait for me, my love."

"Please, just pick something a little more simple than your Porsche.

"I love my Porsche; what's wrong with my car?"

"It's too much attention. Last time, everyone at the university talked about it for a whole week. There were even questions about whether you were my sugar daddy or not.

"I definitely love it. It is the universe's way of telling you that there is no need for resistance. I am going to take care of you, my little butterfly. And I am definitely going to come and pick you up in a Porsche. See you in one hour, baby."

"Jimin, just not in a Porsche!" I shouted, but it was too late; I only heard beeping.

As always, it was Park Jimin who had the last word.

I was happy to be able to postpone opening the purple envelope for a while because of this unexpected trip. Even though an occult boutique or something like that wasn't the best prospect.

Anyway, it's time to pack.

Jimin has a strict rule. He's never late.

Exactly one hour later, Jimin's Porsche picked me up from the dorm, and to all my indignation, the only response he gave was a mocking giggle.

There was good traffic on the roads. After twenty minutes, we stopped at the glass door with the silver star engraving. The exquisite sign above the door read as follows: Paradigm is a boutique of spiritualism." The phases of the moon, from New Moon to Descending Moon, were written on the board below the sign.

"Let's go, Nabi. Pick up the package, and I'll take you home. I know you still need to get Yeonjun registered." Chim wrapped his hands around my forearm and literally dragged me into the boutique as we entered.

As we walked in, the bells above the door began to ring, but the sound was not familiar to me; it looked more like glass than metal. When I looked up, I understood the reason for the sound. There were crystal bells hanging above the door, with long strings of pearls and little silver crescents. It was a very beautiful sight. While I had my eyes on the bells, Jimin was already in conversation with the girl behind the counter. She was tall, with a cascade of long, golden hair. Her features were large and expressive. The girl looked more like a model than a soothsayer or spiritualist, although in the age of Instagram, maybe that's what modern wizards and witches should look like.

I couldn't hear the whole of the conversation, just bits and pieces of it: "It's a parcel for Kim Taehyung. "Yes, it concerns the Kim family." "Please deliver it as soon as possible."

While they were talking, I thought I'd take a look around the shop.

The common room was not large; the shape of the room was round, probably because of some mystical meaning. The walls were covered with velvet curtains, behind which a number of doors were concealed. On metal shelves were various objects: crystal balls, shards of precious stones, heavy tomes on voodoo and fortune-telling, ancient talismans in forged frames, hare legs—a symbol of good luck—and other magical items. There was something macabre about this place—a thick, dense air in which the scent of frankincense and myrtle was vivid—and the heavy, lingering presence of something otherworldly, like a ghostly footprint—a very evil footprint. In all other respects, it was the same luxurious, new-fangled boutique for the chosen rich or the mystical amateur.

My attention was drawn to a crown. It lay on a velvet cushion on one of the many shelves. There were nine black diamonds at the center of the crown. They were surrounded by rubies, so deep in scarlet that they cast a black glow, and pearls to match. The lines of the metal were twisted. They were like snakes wrapped around jewels. The cut of the diamonds was not typical; it was something extremely rare for this kind of gemstone—the Empress.

I was drawn to this crown as if it were a magnet. This feeling of inescapable attraction that you can't resist—I have a feeling like this crown has always belonged to me. Now we are finally reunited. I reached out to touch it, to feel the coolness of the dark, glittering diamonds under my fingers, and I almost did when someone's hand fell on my shoulder.

"You shouldn't touch that, dear."

I gave a frightened jerk, either at the touch of someone else or at the low voice that had come so close to me.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I was just attracted to this crown, and I..." I had no idea how to explain the fact that I'd literally had a call from a piece of metal. Even for a place like this, it might have sounded crazy.

As I turned, I saw a woman in her 40s. Like the girl at the counter, she was more like a modern socialite on Instagram than an occult shop worker.

"All right, darling, the important thing is that you stopped it in time. This thing has a bad reputation; every one of its owners has ended up committing suicide. Anyway, my name is Kim Seoyun, owner of Paradigm. What brings you here today?"

"I'm here with a friend who needs to pick up a package for his boyfriend."

"A young man with pink hair, right? He's in the office with JaYoung; they're in charge of the registration," Seoyun said.

Even the names of the two were breathtakingly beautiful and meaningful. Sometimes the universe invests more in some than others. Seoyun frowned for a moment, as if she had read my thoughts. Then her face cleared, and she smiled softly.

"You're a beautiful girl, Nabi."

"Thank you." I sounded terribly stupid; sometimes I act like a complete fool, but I couldn't think of a more witty response. There was an uncomfortable silence between us. Until it was broken by SeoYun, who asked me a question.

"Do you want me to tell you what your fate is going to be like? My clients are of the opinion that I'm very precise in my predictions."

"Oh no, you don't have to do that." I waved away. "I don't really have a lot of faith in destiny and omens."

"You don't believe in destiny?" She arched her eyebrow in a skeptical manner. "Or don't you want to believe in it?"

"I'm a realist; I can't imagine believing in a destiny and hoping for some mystical higher power to intervene."

"Hmm, this is quite interesting. Come on, let's play," she said, picking up a Taro deck and opening it like a fan. She handed it to me. "You choose five cards; two of them are about love, two of them are about the future, and the last card is about the inevitable destiny, something that's been foretold since your birth."

I won't lie, I was so curious, even though I had no faith in the cards in my hand. My hand reached out for a pack of cards, my fingers hovering over the smooth, flickering surface as if I were trying to feel the ones I needed.

Fatum—the word had a scary ring to it.

AfterI had quickly decided on the four cards, I solemnly drew the last card and handed it over to Miss Kim.

Seoyun took the cards from me with a knowing smile. She began to turn them over one by one and started to explain what each meant.

"You are going to love like it is hard to imagine." She said. Feelings carried threatening limits. Crazy, wild, and burning love—this is a card that comes up very rarely, but it has a very strong meaning. It is the Queen of Cups. For someone who really loves you, you are going to be a true queen, a goddess; everything will be done for you; everything you want will be fulfilled; but if you get too caught up in this feeling, you will be too easily controlled. As strong as this love is, so strong is the destructiveness of it. You should be more careful with it.

The next card was turned over by Seoyun.

"The star is a bright omen for you. You have a choice in front of you that will change everything. Follow the star, and it will show you the path, but remember, no star shines without darkness. This is a map that will lead you to where you need to be. In search of that guiding star, it looks like I'm going to have to look up in the sky some more. Perhaps I should also follow the spiders in order to find the Chamber of Secrets as well.

I treated them with absolute skepticism.

"Death: everything has a cycle, and when death appears, it means you're nearing the end of one. The appearance of death is the end of one cycle and the beginning of another. It may have something to do with the love that awaits you. Your loneliness is about to end."

"The Five Cups is a situation in which you are stuck and can't move forward. This card is about your problems and the need for change in your life. This is the same kind of magical kick that is followed by heavy and dramatic events. The Fives indicate that this is only the second act of the great play; there is still much to come, but the finale promises to be happy if you accept your destiny. Otherwise, it can always end in tragedy. This card tells you: Accept yourself and surrender."

I didn't have a bit of faith in her words. If Jimin or Lia had been in my place, they would have been on a shopping spree for amulets and shamans; their belief in the afterlife was absurdly high.

Before I turned the last card, Seoyun took my hand. She looked me in the eyes seriously and asked:

"Are you sure that you want to know what fate has meant for you, because sometimes it's hard to deal with it?"

"Yes, I do. I'd like to hear it." Isn't that the whole point of a fortune telling?

It's just a deck of cards and some vague words from a pseudo fortune-teller. What could possibly go wrong?

When Miss Kim turned over the last card, her face went pale, and she let the palm of her hand slip out of hers as if it had been burned.

"Go away." sounded like undisguised horror in Seoyun's voice. "Leave immediately. JaYoung, accompany her to the exit, now." She turned away from me, clutching the card in her hand.

I never had a chance to have a look at what was on it.

"What is going on? Why are you kickin' us outta here? What did you see on that card? "In complete disregard for my questions, Miss Kim hurried to the office door, hiding behind the curtains.

Just then, JaYoung and Jimin came out of the other room with a small black box tied with a gold ribbon. It must have been a parcel for Taehyung to take.

"Nabi, are you all right?" Jimin asked me in a worried tone.

No, it wasn't all right; the lady looked at me as if I were one of the bad omens of the biblical coming.

What was it about this card that was able to frighten her to such an extent?

"JaYoung, take her to the exit and close the boutique; we will not be working any more today."

I grabbed the woman's hand before she could turn the doorknob and disappear into the darkness of the room.

"What's the meaning of the last card? Tell me; I'm not going to leave here until you tell me."

"Death is closer to you than you think. It's already on its way to you." Her whole body began to shivered as if it were cold, but the shop was warm. I would say stuffy.

"Who's comin'? What are you talkin' about?" I insisted on it.

Seoyun suddenly turned to me and pushed a crumpled tarot card into my hand. There was There was madness in her dark eyes, and her pupils were so dilated that they were almost the thick green of her iris.

"The Devil."

After that, she practically pushed me to the exit, where I met a worried and confused Jimin. We came out of the boutique, and the door behind us clicked in a characteristic way.

This was not how I had imagined a trip to Paradigm.

"What the hell just happened?"

"You'll believe me when I say I have no idea." Jimin and I looked at each other.

"Next time Taehyung will pick up his stupid packages themselves, I will not go to places like that again. Nabi, I saw someone's canned heart in a jar and bat carcasses. Did you know they have such tiny, sharp teeth? I could swear that I've never seen anything so disgusting in all my life." He said.

"No more occult boutiques, I totally agree with you. Let's go home, I still have to send the paperwork over to Jun."

"I must have something to drink first, and the stronger the better. Let's go to 'Salvatore' and then go home."

I took one last look at the sign, which was now shimmering faintly in the setting sun. I crumpled the card into a small ball and threw it in the rubbish bin next to me.

The Devil, of course. I'm not going to believe the words of this crazy fortune teller. Maybe I should scatter the salt at the entrance, or then he will suddenly knock on my door.

Two hours later, after a big margarita for two and a few glasses of red wine, Jimin took me home, and I was in the same position as before the whole stupid trip to Paradigm.

Sitting on my bed, hypnotised by a dark purple envelope with documents from Yeonjun. There was no point in putting it off any longer.

Instead of pulling a millimeter at a time, I need to learn how to rip off a plaster in one move. Maybe deep down I'm a masochist if I prefer this method, but right now I don't have the time to sort out my hidden sexual desires.

I picked up the envelope; it was surprisingly heavy and pleasantly soft to the touch. The paper had a pleasant odor of powder and velvet, a reminder of the Victorian era in England. Unrequited love letters must have smelled like that.

The envelope was sealed by a wax seal with a monogram cast in an antique shade of gold. When I opened it, the thin wax cracked under my fingers, leaving a glistening particle on them. Inside were a number of documents tied together: a non-disclosure agreement, a handwritten note, and a velour jewellery bag bound with silk ribbons and embroidered with opals and sapphires. I'm sure this little thing was worth twice what I'd been paid in six months, and what lay inside cost much more.

My first choice was a piece of paper. Yeonjun had always written in an incredibly beautiful way - calligraphed, like a fountain pen, with little curls at the end of the letters.

"My lovely Nabi, I look forward to seeing you this Saturday. I am so glad that you have agreed to take me up on my offer. A treasure like you deserves the best in the world, and I'm overjoyed to give it to you. In case you change your mind and decide to back out of your contract with ”Crescent,” I will be the one to pay all of your bills and your tuition fees in the future. We have already discussed this with Jimin. Despite your stubborn refusal to accept any financial help from us, I will do it anyway."

Sometimes I think that all of my friends have a sugar daddy complex; their desperate desire to pay for everything in my life is taken to the extreme. Of course, if you grew up with a "golden spoon" in your mouth, a few thousand dollars, it was absolutely nothing. But for me, it was an exorbitant burden, and yet I wanted to handle it myself.

As dubious as it sounds, I didn't want to say no.

"There's a confidentiality agreement in the envelope, and you need to sign it until tomorrow night. Your session is scheduled for Saturday night. We have to be at ”Crescent” by 23:00, after which Seulgi, the main administrator, will pick up a perfectly compatible client for you to donate blood. Before you meet her, I want to make sure that all the paperwork is in order. There are also two versions of the contract that you should have a look at.”

The ”Crescent” allows donors to choose whether they want to work with them for a year or for one night. Accordingly, there are two types of contracts: annual and one-off.

”I've picked out an outfit for you to wear when we go to ”Crescent”; it'll arrive on Friday with everything you need. You'll look gorgeous, and I'm sure you'll thank me afterwards. Personally, I think you could do with showing a little more of your skin and accentuating the sexy lines of your body. For my taste, you're too modest.”

I squeezed my eyes shut in annoyance. If my buttocks weren't pressed up against the skirt and my breasts weren't protruding, I'd certainly be too modest. The more skin on display, the better. Jun's preference was something I was well aware of. A nice outfit was to be forgotten, and if my underwear was even a little bit covered, I would consider myself lucky. I was sure there would be no thanks on my part.

"The club's owners give all new donors a thank-you gift. It's inside an envelope. Accept it with all sincerity, because you are giving them your life's resources, and this is the least they can do for you. It is also their request that you wear it on your arrival at the “Crescent.”

My dear Nabi, it will be a night you'll never forget. I can assure you of that.

All my love, Yeonjun. "

I was very excited about the prospect of Saturday night. There was a feeling that there was some hidden meaning in the whole situation that I was missing out on. My brain was sending me distress and danger signals, just like Yeonjun. Be careful. The storm is coming.

In any case, sometimes it is better to be at ease and just go with the flow. Like Jimin said, I should be less dramatic.

I signed the NDA contract right away. I'll definitely forget it if I don't do it now. Checking Yeonjun's words against the remaining documents in the envelope, there were two versions of the contract: a one-off and an annual one. I decided to save the gift from the owners of the 'Crescent' for the very end. My first choice was the one-off contract. There were fewer pages, and it was clearer and easier to read.

The first item on the contract was the NDA. There was a long explanation of why it was so important and necessary.

"All "Crescent" clients are people of high social status and position. Their privacy is of the utmost priority to us. Especially with regard to their "special" conditions and specific needs, we want to guarantee our clients complete privacy. Each donor undertakes to sign a confidentiality agreement prior to the first session. Otherwise, the contract between the donor and our client will not be concluded." Guests of the club, hereinafter referred to as "donors," are obliged to keep confidential all the information obtained during personal meetings as well as everything that happens during the blood transfusion, hereinafter referred to as "sessions."

Well, it sounded a bit strange, but I could understand why "Crescent" insisted on signing a contract of this kind. In today's world, it is difficult to keep things secret. And when you are dealing with powerful and wealthy people, it is even more difficult. Paparazzi lurk around every corner, and tabloids are ready to start a scandal with the slightest spark, especially in South Korea.

Who in their right mind would want to survive the criticism, the judgment, and the airing of dirty laundry?

The donor's responsibilities and the client's expectations were the next point in the contract.

In short, you become an exclusive blood donor for one or more clients of the club after signing the contract. This is what Yeonjun told me as well. This form of contract required a single "session."

They didn't give any details, just that the service was linked to a certain type of genetics in their clients and was urgently needed. They did not say how the transfusion process would take place.

"The donor agrees to give their blood and receives financial compensation from the club after a successful procedure. The whole process is strictly controlled by "Crescent" staff. They also act as intermediaries between the donor and the client. Their job is to carry out a compatibility test that will guarantee a better result in the transfusion."

Point three is called "testing for compatibility."

Each donor was tested for compatibility before the "session," and the club administrators—as I learned from Yeonjun's note, my administrator's name is Seulgi—took a blood sample and compared it with the most suitable partner or partners. It was not only the blood that was important, but the members of the club also had a long list of preferences and wishes that the donor had to match. Looks were not the least of these. Height, weight, hair colour, body type, nationality, and age—the list seemed endless. There was even a clause about the type of voice and the food preferences of the donor. Let's just say: "Crescent" customers were very spoiled and had a personal view of the blood donation process. Partner - It sounded a little too intimate to me for this kind of situation, and it clearly had a double meaning.

The most pleasant of all—financial compensation—was point number four.

"For voluntarily donating their life resources, all donors receive financial compensation from "Crescent," ranging from $1,000 to $3,000. The amount paid varies according to the amount of blood donated and the status of the client with whom the donor was matched".

It was a fabulous amount of money. It was a very quick income, but it wasn't that easy. I felt it in my gut. The work was flawless; there was just no such thing.

I've reached the last point in the contract - the completion of the agreement.

Here are the details of the beginning and end of the 'session', how the money was paid, how the donors returned home, and other details. The start of each 'session' was exactly midnight, but the donor had to be at the club two hours before for preparation. The 'session' ended at 8am the next day. In general, the whole process took up to eight hours. The transfusion took place in private rooms, the doors of which were locked from the beginning to the end of the "session." Inside the rooms, there was a "panic button" in case of unforeseen situations.

The transfusion process itself is only revealed on arrival at the "Crescent," as the paragraph indicates: "is not standard." The donors were taken home by the club staff at the end of the "session." If there was a request from the client for the donor to be taken home in person, there was no objection to this.

And that's all. The one-off contract was over. A few thousand dollars have been added to your bank account.

I won't lie, it sounded fabulous. But there was a lot that made me feel confused and want to know.

Some of the clauses in the contract left me scratching my head with their veiled meaning and ambiguous choice of words.

So I moved on to the second version of the contract - the one for the year.With lots of footnotes and sub-paragraphs, it was twice as long.

It had the same beginnings: the NDA agreement, the donation, and the compatibility test, but then everything changed dramatically.

Gone was the faceless "client." In its place came the "patron." Now it sounded as if there was a contract between the patron and the donor. In addition to this new word, there were also new points to be included in the contract.

Medical care, diet, sports with a private trainer, spa treatments, and even specific items such as painting, dancing, and music lessons. From the signing of the annual contract, which included renting accommodation, paying bills and school fees, giving gifts, traveling, and so on, the patrons were fully responsible for the welfare and comfort of their exclusive donor.

They promised to keep the donor happy and satisfied and to see to whatever needed to get done. It was now that the ambiguity of the word 'partner' began to make sense to me. In this contract, it was clearly stated that the business relationship could continue between the sheets.

"The sexual or romantic relationship between the donor and the patron is their personal affair and is welcome if both parties are interested in and attracted to each other. All intimate details, including details of the sexual act, remain strictly confidential between donor and client. A list of the sexual practices as well as the permissible kinks will be discussed in advance. The donor is entitled to determine the acceptable boundaries of sexual contact, its intensity, and the degree of emotional "subspace" involved. A stop word is chosen in advance, or the clients can always use the color system: green - yellow - red.

Donors have the right to appeal to the management of the club if, at any time, their rights have been violated and they have been subjected to emotional, physical, or sexual coercion. The owners of "Crescent" have an obligation to provide the donor with a safe place and appropriate specialists for the assessment of the donor's condition. The contract is suspended. Further details are awaited. The issue can be resolved peacefully. In the worst case, the contract will be terminated immediately, and the donor will be compensated for a period of five years." That was certainly not my expectation. I will have to ask Yeonjun if he has any knowledge of such cases, if they have happened, or if anyone has ever had an early termination of a contract.

In addition, it was stated that such a relationship was not obligatory and that if the donor did not want to have sexual relations with the patron, he could refuse, and the patron would have no insistence.

But I don't think many donors would refuse, considering that even Jimin, who is dating an absolutely perfect and insanely attractive man named Taehyung, talked about the beauty of “Crescent's“ clients. It's a very tempting offer, even though it sounds like a twisted version of sugar daddy with a bloody kink.

There have also been some changes to the point about the financial compensation. It is now a compulsory monthly allowance. Depending on the status of the patron, it could range from $30,000 to $90,000 a year. The more he or she could afford to pay, the higher the amount of the benefit. The money was divided into equal parts. It was paid over the duration of the contract. Always on the first Monday of the month.

I can't imagine that anyone would be willing to pay that kind of money for your blood. Obviously, for the members of the “Crescent“, this was an acute question, as the amount in the contract had several zeros.

One of the most important points in the contract was the exclusivity clause.

This was unacceptable for an annual contract, unlike a one-off contract, which allowed the donor to contract with different clients each time. To put it bluntly: Your blood belonged to the sponsor. In this respect, there were so many requirements and so many details written down that were important to the patron. In addition, the one-year contract was only available to donors who had knowledge of the club's clients or staff. Yeonjun was one of them. So I received two versions of the contract instead of one.

At the end, there was the same information about the terms and conditions of the 'meeting' and a few paragraphs about the expiry of the one-year contract.

Having read the contracts, I felt like we were in a strange combined version of 50 Shades of Gray and True Blood.

With a heavy sigh, I leaned back on the pillows, putting the papers to one side, and pressed my cheek against the fluffy, soft toy. It felt good against my skin, the soft purple velour. It was a weird variation on 'Princess of the Bumpy Space' from 'Adventure Time'. Minho had given it to me after another drunken debacle. How he came into possession of this toy is still a complete mystery to all of us.

I had a couple of thoughts about my options. On the one hand, I could make a one-off deal with them and then forget about what had happened the next morning. The amount they offered to compensate me would have been enough to make me feel good for a while, but certainly not enough to pay off all the debts and put some aside just in case.

On the other hand, there was a contract for one year with regular payments and various bonuses, but this also involved a mysterious and demanding patron. One year, and I can say goodbye to all the debts I owe. There was also the chance, without a boring, monotonous job in a bookshop, a tiny room in a student dormitory, or a permanent pit of debt, to see the world, enjoy art, and simply live and be happy.

All this was offered to me on a silver platter. But somehow I thought it was a deal with the devil rather than a blessing from an angel.

In that tempting sentence, there was too much 'but'.

All my thoughts had me on the verge of tears and screams at the same time.

I looked around my little room: dim, mousy grey painted walls; scattered notes and piles of textbooks on the table; picture frames; toys; piles of crumpled blankets on the floor; and a black Balmain velvet jacket that once belonged to Minho, but which he is absolutely certain makes me look better than him. In addition to my things, there were a few of Lia's dresses and Yeonjun's leather jacket, which he left me after one of our many meetings, in my wardrobe, which was tiny by Jimin and Minho's standards. The contrast between their clothes and mine was unbelievable - brand labels, monograms, and distinctive prints - all screaming about their high cost and inaccessibility. I could never have that kind of money, but I had the desire. I really wanted to have it.

This sense of accessibility was something I was curious about.

There was a thick twilight beyond the window. A scattering of purple light poured into the room, turning the whole room a mystical shade of purple. As it danced along the walls, the colour dripped down to the floor, making it look like dark purple water. You could see the first stars begin to appear in the rapidly darkening sky, their broken light sparking off a sapphire embroidered ribbon on a small jewellery bag. I had completely forgotten all about this so-called gift. The cobalt blue sapphires mirrored each other and looked like the eyes of a big cat. That's how I'd always imagined the eyes of a predator - shining in that mystical blue. I took the pouch in my hand and shook it lightly in an attempt to determine what was inside, but the contents did not make a sound.

The silk ribbon came undone with ease. I stared at the contents of the bag with unblinking eyes. Inside was a delicate ornament made of white gold. Thin lines were woven into a star shape. It was inlaid with sapphires and diamonds. It was mesmerizing to look at. Whoever made this necklace obviously put a great deal of love into it. The shape of the ornament itself was not standard; it was more like a guide star in the center of the compass.

I was reminded of what Miss Kim had said to me today as my fingers gently traced the pattern of the necklace.

"Follow the stars, and they will show you the way. A star is a bright omen."

Could it just be a coincidence that the piece of jewelry I was holding in my hand was nothing less than a guiding star?

Either way, I'll definitely be wearing it Saturday—not just because the owners asked me to, but because it is my wish. Perhaps this star will indeed show me the way, but one thing I was sure of was that it was the most beautiful piece of jewelry I'd ever seen.

I thought I'd put the jewelry back in my bag and do some paperwork for Yeonjun. I've had enough mystical prophecies and rich patrons for one day, so I've left the contract selection for Saturday. I'm going to spend the evening resting and relaxing. I'll have a long, hot bath with butter and pink salt, which Jiminy brought me from Paris. I will read a book or listen to a meditation course and call upon my inner "I" to harmonise.

Meditation and soul-searching have become very popular with Lia lately. As a result, I have a whole bookshelf in my room that is dedicated to books of this kind and various CDs with meditation and breathing exercises. Last month, she even gave me a decorative fountain, which was supposed to be calming and relaxing but in fact made me feel more nervous and annoyed than soothed. I looked at the jewelry bag containing the necklace again after gathering all the documents.

"The star will show the way..."

And it's only now that I realise that I've never said my name, Miss Kim, and I don't know how she came to know it.

"You're a beautiful girl, Nabi."

For a moment, I thought that maybe her words weren't made up or lying, but rather a warning, but it was only for a second.

I decided not to give it much thought, shaking my head as if to drive the thought away. If it were a sign of my destiny, it'd be my meeting with her on Saturday. I looked out the window again. As if mocking me, the crescent moon shone brightly through the thick midnight clouds. One thing I was absolutely sure of: a visit to 'Сrescent' would change my life forever.

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pearwaldorf · 5 months ago

Text

Thinking about the fatalism that has inevitably emerged after yesterday's events, and how angry it makes me. Nothing about Trump has changed a goddamn iota since somebody tried to kill him. He's still the same old shitstain who's intent on tearing down the rest of this country he didn't get to last time.

The best way to legally depress voter turnout is to make people feel like there's no point in voting. When people turn out in numbers, Democrats tend to win.

And there still is a fucking point. I know it doesn't really make as much news as it should, but a Biden administration has genuinely made people's lives better. None of it gets publicized well because it's not sexy, but not being able to report medical debt to credit bureaus? $35 insulin? Cracking down on robocalls? The climate stuff in the giant infrastructure bill? All of this is important quality of life shit.

Certainly nothing is at the level it should be, but some of us old farts have stories about how much worse it was before, and why we would absolutely not go back. And I'm real fucking sorry that change isn't happening at the rate any of us want, but it's not nothing.

In philosophy, there is a concept called Pascal's Wager, which says a rational person should believe in God because the rewards are amazing if God exists, and the losses are small if God doesnt.

Obviously voting still takes effort, but I think it's effort that won't be wasted regardless of the outcome. Now you know what to do for next time! You've learned a little about your local politicians! For the states where you have to vote in person, it's a little more inconvenient, but check if early voting is available in your area.

And if (god forbid) the worst happens, you still tried. You didn't take it as a given he would win. Brazil has mandatory voting, and despite having the button RIGHT FUCKING THERE between Bolsonaro and Lula, more people chose to opt out than do the thing that would have an actual effect. That's so fucked up.

I know that people get frustrated and vote for things that represent their feelings as opposed to actual rational consequences. And this literally kills people.

I don't think it's too much to expect people to put in a bit of time and effort into something that will yield such important results if it's successful. If you need help registering to vote or a ride to the polls, it is available.

#us politics #trump shooting #pascal's wager #pear text

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zu-is-here · 3 months ago

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Zu, have you seen the sexy poll man is back and like... Like they put Horror vs Error. It's not fair, Horror has to win against him. Oh, or we put Error on a rocket in Outertale and poof, no more Error. That way Horror wins, because he's a thousand times sexier than Error ♡*･゜ﾟ･*\(^O^)/*･゜ﾟ･*♡

And they put Cross against Dust, and for ten minutes I froze in front of it: who do I choose? Sorry Dust, maybe next year ˞͛꒰๑ऀ •̆ꈊ͒ू•̆๑ऀ꒱

Oh and imagine Epic winning the poll, that would be a great moment, really funny. The Memes Master unanimously voted sexiest, Cross will be very proud of his dude ♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪

Otherwise, it would be great fun to see Error lose in the final (after all, there's never a dull moment. Well, the proverb is better in French, like "jamais deux sans trois", if you translate it literally " never two without three". It's more in keeping with what I was saying) (⁠*⁠꒪⁠ヮ⁠꒪⁠*⁠)

The most important message of my little outburst is:

Horror has to win, we have to create a league for it, or a religion, as you prefer o͡͡͡͡͡͡╮꒰♡∇♡*꒱╭o͡͡͡͡͡͡

I say a lot of stupid things when I'm tired, sorry (´；ω；`)

I'm watching it intensely! (｀・∀・´)✧

That was so unfair indeed, Horror had no chances against Error... (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀) But don't be sad, I feel like he'll be avenged in the end >:)

I'm really glad Murder was in this year poll too, but now it's Cross VS Swap... My heart is torn between two best soldiers ♡_(:3 」∠)_

OH that would be epic indeed! (≧∀≦) Sadly, this time Reaper wins, and I have some silly hopes for Reaper VS Geno... ♪

I guess most of us are waiting for Error to become the second again — the third time in a row, it'll be the greatest joke ever XD

Horror is always in our hearts (〃ω〃) It's not stupid at all, thank you so much for sharing your feelings! ♡

#ask #poll #my dear fellswap is losing again but I love seeing him here <3

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thebunnednun · 7 months ago

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OKAY HEAR ME OUT GURL! A story where Reader has a crush on Ace and Sabo tries to help her with getting his attention BUT Sabo is the one who's in love with reader! So like Sabo--> Reader--> Ace. (Of course we want friends to lovers so she stay Sabo? You choose, Babe! salute from Brazil)

If you only knew how much I love you Sabo x Straw-hat! Reader x Ace

Sabo is becoming quiet popular with my readers!!

Disclaimer: I do not own the art in any way, shape, or form.

Thank you for the request babe! I hope you enjoy this!

To be posted on my Tumblr account soon.

I also have a poll out right now where all readers can vote for what they want to see next. At this time, 5/18/2024, you lovelies have 4 days left to vote! Feel free to comment what you specifically want as well!

Hopefully now I can get to the rest of my requests.

Now lets get on to this sexy man!~

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The salty breeze of the sea carried whispers of adventure and longing as you stood on the bustling docks of Loguetown. Your eyes scanned the horizon, searching for a familiar figure among the bustling crowd. And there he was, Ace, the enigmatic pirate with a smile that could melt even the coldest heart.

(And Abs that would melt the ice caps.)

Your heart fluttered as Ace approached, his presence commanding attention wherever he went. You had harbored a secret crush on him for what felt like an eternity, your admiration for him growing with each passing day. But despite your best efforts to hide your feelings, you couldn't help but blush whenever he was near.

"Hey, (Y/n)!" Ace greeted you with a grin, his voice as warm as the sun-kissed sea.

"What's up?"

"Hey, Fire britches," you replied, trying to steady your racing heart. "Just enjoying the sights and sounds of the harbor."

As they walked along the docks, you stole glances at Ace whenever you thought he wasn't looking. You admired his confidence, his easy charm, and the way he effortlessly captivated everyone around him. But deep down, you knew you could never be more than just a friend to him.

Meanwhile, Sabo watched from a distance, his heart heavy with longing. He had been friends with our lovely Reader for as long as he could remember, always by her side through thick and thin. But lately, he couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed between them.

"Sabo, are you okay?" Luffy's voice broke through Sabo's thoughts, snapping him back to reality.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sabo replied with a forced smile. "Just lost in thought, I guess."

Luffy studied him for a moment, a knowing look in his eyes. "You know, if there's something bothering you, you can always talk to me about it," he said, his voice filled with concern.

Sabo's heart swelled with gratitude for his brother's kindness. "Thanks, Luffy," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I appreciate it."

As the days turned into weeks, You found yourself spending more and more time with Ace, your feelings for him growing stronger with each passing moment. You cherished the moments together, the laughter and camaraderie you shared, but you couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was missing.

One evening, as the sun was setting below the shoreline, you found yourself sitting alone on the deck of the Thousand Sunny, just lost in thought. You couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that gnawed at your heart, a sense of longing that refused to be ignored.

"Sabo," you whispered into the night, voice barely above a whisper.

"What am I supposed to do?"

Unbeknownst to you, Sabo had been standing in the shadows, watching you with a heavy heart. He longed to tell you how he felt, to confess the depths of his love for you, but he couldn't bear the thought of ruining your friendship.

"[Name]," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "I wish I could show you how much you mean to me."

As the days turned into weeks, Sabo found himself consumed by thoughts of you, his feelings burning brighter with each passing moment. It was almost like he was addicted. He knew he had to do something, anything, to get her to see him in a different light.

"Sabo," Luffy's voice broke through Sabo's thoughts, pulling him back to reality once again.

"I have an idea!"

Sabo raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued.

"What kind of idea?"

Luffy grinned mischievously. "I think it's time we help [Name] with their crush on Ace," he said, excitement dancing in his eyes. "And who better to help them than their two best friends?"

Sabo's heart skipped a beat at the mention of your crush on Ace. "You really think that'll work?" he asked, trying to keep the hope out of his voice.

Luffy nodded enthusiastically. "Of course it will! We'll be their wingmen, their partners in crime," he declared, a grin spreading across his face. "And who knows? Maybe along the way, they’ll realize that the one they’ve been searching for has been right in front of them all along."

With a newfound sense of determination, Sabo and Luffy set their plan into motion.

They orchestrated chance encounters between [Name] and Ace, subtly arranging situations where they could spend more time together. And as they watched from the sidelines, Sabo couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy whenever Ace flashed that charming smile of his at you.

But despite their best efforts, [Name] remained oblivious to Sabo's feelings for them. They were too focused on Ace to notice anything else, their heart set on a love that would never be.

As the days turned into weeks, Sabo found himself growing more and more frustrated. No matter what he did, he couldn't seem to get [Name] to notice him in the way he wanted them to. And with each passing day, his feelings for her only grew stronger.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Sabo found himself alone on the deck railing of the Thousand Sunny, lost in thought. You and Ace had seemingly gotten closer and he couldn't shake the feeling of despair that gnawed at his heart, a sense of hopelessness that refused to be ignored.

He’d fallen hard for you and was now going to lose you to the man he called Brother. The fire he commanded was now threatening to consume his very soul if he didn't get this under control.

"Dear God," he whispered into the night, his voice barely audible. "What am I supposed to do?”

But before he could dwell on his thoughts any longer, he heard footsteps approaching from behind. Turning around, he found himself face to face with [Name], your eyes filled with concern.

"Sabo, are you okay?" you asked, your voice was soft yet filled with genuine concern. "You seem lost in thought."

Sabo forced a smile, trying to hide the turmoil raging within him. "I'm fine, [Name]," he replied, his voice barely a whisper. "Just lost in thought, I guess."

You studied him for a moment, as if trying to gauge his true feelings. "Ya know, if there's something bothering you, you can always talk to me about it," you said, your voice filled with warmth and understanding.

“Right?”

Sabo's heart swelled. The pale moonlight illuminated your features with a soft ethereal glow. The swell of your pouty lips and the concern that painted your eyes were stabbing him inside of his heart. A cold sweat broke out onto his skin with fear crawling its way with gratitude for your kindness. "Thanks, [Name]," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

"I appreciate it."

As the days turned into weeks, Sabo found himself consumed by thoughts of [Name], his feelings for them burning brighter with each passing moment. He knew he had to do something, anything, to get them to see him in a different light.

One fateful night, as the crew of the Thousand Sunny gathered on deck to watch the stars, Sabo found himself unable to keep his feelings hidden any longer. With his heart pounding in his chest, he turned to [Name], his voice trembling with emotion.

"[Name]," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "There's something I need to tell you."

You turned to him with a soft smile. “I have something to tell you too. But you go first!” You tried to keep your heart from skipping a beat at the intensity of his gaze. However, as Ace passed by he made no attempt of communication. "What is it, Sabo?" you asked, voice barely a whisper.

The vulnerability in Sabo's eyes took you by surprise and his voice lacked its usual conviction.

‘I have to do this, I have to do this!’

Sabo took a deep breath, gathering his courage before speaking.

He looked into your eyes, seeing nothing but genuine concern and care. It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, he decided to take the plunge. "It's just... hard. Helping you with Ace, I mean."

You blinked in surprise. "Why?"

"Because..." Sabo's voice cracked slightly, and he looked away, unable to maintain eye contact. "Because I have feelings for you."

The room fell into a stunned silence. Your heart raced as you processed his confession. "Sabo... I..."

He shook his head, forcing a smile. "It's okay. I know you like Ace. I just needed to tell you."

You reached out, gently turning his face back to yours. "Sabo, I had no idea. If I had known..."

He placed his hand over yours, his touch warm and reassuring. "It's not your fault. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to ruin our friendship."

"I... I love you, [Name]," he confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I've loved you for as long as I can remember, and I can't keep it hidden any longer."

Your heart soared at his confession, your own feelings for Sabo bubbling to the surface. "Sabo," you whispered, voice filled with emotion. "I love you too."

“What!?”

You squeezed your fingers tightly in front of your chest. “I.. I just realized that while I liked Ace and spending time with him I didn't actually love him romantically.” You softly reached for Sabo's hand and he came closer to join your fingers together.

“I realized I was in love with my best friend instead.”

With tears of joy streaming down their faces, You and Sabo embraced, your hearts finally finding the love you had been searching for all along.

And as they watched the stars twinkle in the night sky, they knew that their love would burn bright for all eternity.

Unbeknownst to you both, Luffy and Ace were on the top deck high fiving each other.

“HA, and he’s supposed to be the smart one!”

“Can you not say that without picking your nose?”

__________________________________________________

Make sure you check out the a03 account by the same name. I also have a Sexy Mihawk x Maid! Reader posted in the masterlist! Give it a read if you please!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don't be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

Seen you soon my loves!!~ <<33

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qqueenofhades · 2 years ago

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One of my biggest annoyances is leftists and communists beinging up Biden’s tweets during the 2020 campaign of things he said he would do, and being like “see?? he didn’t deliver on anything and this is why you shouldn’t vote for the Dems again” Like, for all the understanding they seem to have of communist or marxist or whatever theory, the idea that the President is not a king and can’t do whatever he wants without Congress’s approval is lost on them?? He still believes in those things but if Congress won’t pass the legislation what is he supposed to do? EOs won’t solve all our problems.

Yeah. Not even to mention, the claim that "Biden hasn't done/delivered anything!!!" is a big fat lie, as people keep pointing out the things he has done, with a razor-thin House majority (until 2022) and two "Democratic" senators who torpedoed everything and one of whom has now literally left the party (Manchin and Sinema). So while Online Leftists obviously don't understand the difference between "achieving all of his campaign goals" and "achieving some," for the last frikkin time, Biden has done a lot of good things in very bad circumstances!!!!!! Using "he didn't do everything!!!!" as an excuse to not vote and so enable the open and unrepentant fascists is the stupidest fucking thing I have ever heard!!!!

Like. Take the debt deal. As in other things, Biden clearly learned from Obama's mistake (which was believing that the Republicans would ever negotiate in good faith about anything, and/or would reciprocate in kind if Biden made concessions). McCarthy whined for WEEKS that Biden wasn't listening and wasn't talking to him and wasn't entertaining his ridiculous proposals (22% cuts in ALL discretionary/non-military spending, including Social Security, Medicare, etc etc, while preserving the giant Trump tax cuts for the rich.) No matter that a full one-quarter of the national debt ($7.8 trillion of $31 trillion) was racked up under Trump and the debt ceiling involves paying bills that have already been spent. No sir, those Damn Free-Spending Democrats wanted to use your money on icky things like ~social welfare!! It was mean and it was hypocritical and it was blindingly obvious, and Biden just completely ignored it. He didn't try to negotiate in good faith with that, because there was no way it would work. He just let them whine.

Then, when it came down to it, Biden went in and got a deal that preserves pretty much all of the Democrats' major legislative priorities and expansions from the last two years. The only real change is raising the work requirement age for childless adults on SNAP food assistance from 49 to 54, but this has also been accompanied by a corresponding expansion of the definition "homeless" to make more people eligible, some for the first time ever. There's not going to be any major new spending for the next two years, but that wasn't happening anyway since the GOP controls the House and wouldn't agree to anything Biden put in the budget (and plus, none of the money that has already been allocated through the American Rescue Plan and other federal assistance is getting taken away). But more importantly, it raises the debt ceiling for the next TWO years and it won't come up again until after 2024. That is HUGE: the GOP really, REALLY wanted to hold the economy hostage again prior to the next presidential election. But Biden basically went in and told McCarthy to stfu and got what he wanted. Qevin was even forced, after months of "Sleepy Joe" GOP propaganda, to call Biden "very smart and very tough" in the negotiations. Soooo.

Anyway, this is what I mean: this isn't as sexy and/or as utterly fucking useless as spouting lukewarm rebaked "Marxist" propaganda on the Twittermachine about how Biden hasn't done anything, but it's the actual nitty-gritty work of government and flat-out beating the Republicans. They got absolutely shit-all that they wanted, because Biden didn't fall for their same old, same old dirty tricks and disingenuous squealing. He went in, got the job done, and will get way less credit for it than he deserves, from anyone. Dunno about you, but I like that guy. I plan to vote for him again.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts

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bridgetotheskyyy · 1 year ago

Text

Show Off - Utahime

Kinktober Masterlist

Warnings: 18+, mirror sex, reader's a bit of a bimbo, utahime is more dominant, lingerie

A/n: Day 12: Lingerie! I'm fighting for my fucking life guys trying to catch up to kinktober

Word count: 2.0k

Read on Ao3

Utahime lifted her gaze up at the miniature store sign above the changing room doors. Stockings!!! And in a cotton-candy neon pink stinging her eyes the longer she held her glare. She sighed.

This was the last place she wanted to be on her off day: Huddled up in the stuffy changing room area of a swanky clothing store, the humidity sticking clothes to her skin.

But you had insisted (and when had she ever been able to say no to you?), Shoko and Mei Mei voting on the trip as well. It had been unanimous. Utahime had felt particularly betrayed by Shoko. Traitor.

Utahime switched her glare to her phone, the blue-light glare aiding the imminent headache creeping to life. Another sigh.

Of course, there was another reason she didn’t want to be here. Seeing you in tight lingerie was not going to be good for her.

Shoko knew that.

Girls a decade younger giggled as they passed by with their chosen garments packed in designer paper bags. Utahime’s head thudded into the wall.

“How much longer are you guys gonna be?” she whined, fanning herself.

“It won’t be long!” You assured.

“Just a few minutes longer.” Mei Mei’s dulcet tones flitted through the changing room door.

Utahime snorted to herself. “We all know you’re not going to buy anything.”

Mei peeked out the door, eyes perennially sparkling with ill-intent. “Who said anything about buying?”

Utahime rolled her eyes as You and Shoko cackled offscreen.

“I found something I like.” That was Shoko. “Having a little trouble with the strap, though —“

Utahime struggled to imagine Shoko being sexy for anybody. But, she supposed, a woman could be sexy for herself. She couldn’t help but ask. “You’re trying on lingerie? What’s the occasion?”

“Why does there have to be an occasion, Uta? Maybe she just wants to look snatched.” Mei Mei echoed her unspoken sentiments.

“In fact, now that we’re on the subject,” Shoko began, “I am seeing a little man on the side.”

You gasped, followed by a harsh zipper sound. “Shoko! You never said!” You sighed wistfully. “Everybody’s got a boo these days.”

Shoko poked her head out this time, smirked at Utahime.

Utahime glared as Shoko giggled and retreated into the changing room.

“Done!” You said.

Anxiety married anticipation in Utahime, whirled her stomach as changing room locks came undone.

Shoko was first, fully dressed again in sweater and jeans — and of course never without a cigarette. “It’s just a bra and I’m buying it,” she said when Utahime gave her a crooked look. “They should let me wear it out if I show them the tag.”

Mei Mei was next, twirling in her new ebony-black corset. “Oh, my paypigs are gonna love this,” she said with a giggle.

Shoko laughed as Mei Mei felt the lacy fabric. Your door opened unceremoniously, jumpscaring the three of them.

Utahime stared wide-eyed and speechless as you presented yourself as though on the runway; it was a matching lacy bra and panties. The cups hugged your breasts in delicious black silk, and lace tickled up your sweet thighs from the stockings. You giggled as Shoko and Mei Mei cooed their approval.

Utahime’s mouth ran dry.

“Do you like it?” You asked her, turning to flash your ass. “Does it look like it fits?”

Utahime swallowed nothing. She composed herself when she felt Shoko smirking, adjusting her baseball cap to conceal a blush she knew was there.

“It’s — it’s nice,” she told you. “And very pretty on you.”

Your blush tore at Utahime’s heart. “Awww, thanks, Uta!”

“Let’s check out.” Mei Mei walked from the changing room, the clothes she had arrived with presumably in her bag. “That is, if you ladies are happy with everything?”

“You’re going like that?” Utahime deadpanned.

“Why, of course!” Mei Mei said, giving another twirl. “Maybe I’ll pick another pig or two on the way home?”

Mei Mei sashayed out of the changing rooms.

“Oh, I’m not,” You said, still blushing. You retreated into the changing room and closed the door. “Gotta get this home in one piece, after all! I would have to rip it!”

Shoko sauntered toward Utahime and gave her a wink.

“Take your time,” she murmured before following Mei Mei.

Utahime gave her third sigh of the afternoon and reached down for her bag.

“Ah!”

Utahime lifted her gaze to your door. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, it’s just — ah, this hook, it’s so stubborn.” Your elbow must have knocked against one of the walls; there was a thump, then another. “Ah, I can’t get it. Uta, d’you think you could come in and help me?”

Utahime’s handbag fell from her hands. “Uh … Y— Yes, sorry, uh, just a second!”

Utahime’s hand quivered over the door; it wasn’t locked. She walked in on trembling legs.

Your back was turned to her, facing the full-body mirror, gaze lowered as you focused on the strap buckle. You groaned after another failed attempt to unhook it.

“You know what, maybe I won’t buy it,” You quipped with a nervous laugh. You glanced in the mirror at Utahime, almost for approval. That was funny, right?

Utahime laughed as she approached, wiping sweaty hands on her jeans. “It’d be a shame; it looks really pretty on you.”

You met Utahime’s gaze in the mirror. She cleared her throat. Slowly, you turned to her. A few seconds of silence as you smiled up at her.

“What’s the point of sexy lingerie if you can’t get out of it?” You said — purred.

Utahime blinked. Had she — had she heard you correctly?

You stepped toward her. “Help me get out of this, Uta?” You batted imploring eyelashes. “Please?”

Utahime’s lips parted as you came forward to plant yours against her jaw. Utahime flinched, froze, her heart drumming in her ears as you kissed down the outline of her jaw to her neck.

“(Y/n) —!”

She had let you back her into the wall opposite the mirror. Utahime tried to grasp you to stop you — it was a bad idea; everywhere she touched was naked skin or skin housed in lace. You were soft to the touch everywhere.

“Mmm … Yes?”

“What are you doing?” Panic sprang in Utahime’s voice.

“Mmm …” You raised your head to meet her eye. “Kissing you, silly. What do you think?”

“No,” Utahime moaned. She fixed her hands to your hips as you continued smooching her neck. “Stop. You’re — you’re drunk.”

You faced her again, a soft glare there. “I’m not drunk.” Your hand snaked down her thigh, coming to caress her clothed sex. “I’ve never been more sober, or conscious, of what I’m doing.”

Utahime shivered. She bit her lip as you massaged her cunt through her jeans. Your breasts crushed against hers as you kissed her full on the mouth. Utahime parted her lips in shock, inadvertently inviting your tongue to rub against hers. You bucked against her as you explored her mouth. The friction —

Utahime felt a damn break; she flipped, flattened you against the wall. She broke the kiss, looked down at you.

“Fine then,” she said. “If this is what you want …!”

Her hand slipped past your silk panties, not yet paid for, and played with your moist slit.

“A—ahah …!” You threw your head back as Utahime slipped fingers into the slit of your cunt. “N — No fair, I think you — hah — should get out of your clothes, too …”

Utahime swept two fingers against your clit, relished your startled moan. She nestled toward your ear. “You’re in no place to make demands.” She yanked your panties down and continued her work on you, fiddling with your clit as you gasped. “Dragging me to this place to watch you prance around like a little slut. You know this set is too small for you, and yet you still …”

She scissored her fingers and squeezed them between your clit, jerking it off as she kissed at the shell of your ear.

“Aah! Ha— aha!”

“Pipe down,” Utahime ordered, fondling one of your tits. “You want the whole store to hear you?”

Her hand, so occupied with your tit, wandered behind you and, with only one hand unhooked your bra. It fell away to your waist before Utahime threw it to the floor.

You stared, half-naked and breathless, face brushed with red. “How … can I make it up to you?”

Utahime licked her lips — until she realized she could lick you and brought her fingers from your cunt to suck on. She paused in thought before glancing to the mirror.

“Take those off.” She motioned toward the panties. “Then sit by the mirror.”

You did as instructed, leaving the stockings on. You strolled to the mirror and sat.

“Spread your legs,” Utahime said.

You did so. Utahime knelt by your, steadied on her knees. She brought one hand to cup and play with your neglected breast while the other snaked down the plane of your stomach to your cunt.

“Look at yourself.” She spread your lips, the slick pooled like a honeypot for you to witness. “So you wanted this? To let me see your slutty clothes?”

You whined as Utahime flicked at your lobe, circled your clit with her fingers.

“Y—Yes!”

“You’re worse than Mei Mei.” Utahime slapped your cunt and you flinched from the sting. “Face the mirror. When I take you home tonight, you’re going to undress me and get me off.”

Utahime sunk her fingers into your slick entrance. She pinched and toyed with your nipple as you squirmed in her care. As ordered, your eyes remained fixed to the mirror.

“You’re going to eat me out and suck on my clit.” Utahime paused as you cried out; she’d found the rough skin of your g-spot while her thumb flicked at your clit. “That’s how you’re going to make it up to me, understand?”

You arched in her hold as she teased you with a potential orgasm. You nodded frantically. “Yes, yes! Oh, god, I want that so much!”

Utahime kissed and sucked at your neck, adding a third finger at last to your torment. You sucked her fingers in with fervor. She thumbed harder at your clit, her other hand forcing one of your tits up to suck at its nipple.

You trembled as her tongue swirled around your bud, the pace of her fingers impossible to keep up with.

“I’m gonna — aha —!”

Utahime withdrew her fingers.

You gasped. “No! No!”

She caressed your face, slick with your wetness, and forced you to look at her from over your shoulder.

“I’ve loved you for so long,” she said. “I want you to look at me when you cum, all right?”

You nodded, eyes dreamy. You trembled with anticipation as she snaked her hand back down to your needy cunt and submerged her fingers in again.

You captured Utahime’s lips, kissing and licking her tongue as her fingers worked your insides and clit.

A string of saliva bridged your lips and hers as you parted, eyes widening with the coming climax.

“Cum for me,” Utahime urged. “Mhm, c’mon, you can do it, cum, cum —“

Utahime cupped your mouth in time to stifle your scream. You clenched around her fingers, but she kept massaging that perfect spot inside you. You fell backward, into bliss and into her as she rode you through your orgasm.

Utahime watched you fall apart in the mirror. She couldn’t have dreamed of a prettier sight. “That’s a good girl, finally doing what you’re told.”

You came down from your high. You stared up at her dreamily. Utahime withdrew her fingers again, licking away your orgasm from her pruney fingers.

“Did you know I had feelings for you?” Utahime asked as you came down.

Your eyes glittered. “No — I hoped you did! Oh no!” You looked to your drenched stockings, then to the bra and panties strewn over. “I didn’t pay for those!”

“Don’t worry.” Utahime said. “I’ll buy them for you. I want to see you in them again.”

#utahime x reader #jjk smut #utahime smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #utahime iori x reader

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