#Guide to business Formal Dressing
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jasminewilson143 · 2 months ago
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Men Suit Types | A Gentleman's Guide to Men's Suits
A well-tailored suit is a timeless piece of clothing that can elevate any man’s wardrobe. Whether you’re attending a formal event, a business meeting, or simply want to look your best, a suit can make a significant impact on your appearance. In this comprehensive guide, we’ll explore the different types of men’s suits, their key features, and how to choose the right one for your style and…
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543magazine · 3 months ago
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Mastering the Bow Tie: A Modern Guide for Formal Occasions
Discover the art of tying a bow tie with our easy-to-follow guide and elevate your formal wear for any occasion. Visit: www543magazine.com
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drchucktingle · 11 months ago
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THE TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION HAVE ISSUED AN APOLOGY AND A RE-INVITATION. HERE IS MY STATEMENT
hello buckaroos. the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION have issued a formal statement and apology which you can read at the attached link.
while i find the language used to discuss what was done a little unsatisfying, i would like to start by saying i appreciate anyone taking steps to prove love is real and make things right. the genuine feeling of ‘realizing you have made a mistake and hurt someone else’ is a terrible one, and i have so much empathy for this group as they reckon with their choices causing harm. i appreciate their apology.
i also think more good than bad has come from this situation. i am so thankful this happened to me (someone with a large social media presence) and not a smaller buckaroo author without the means to stand up for themselves. i think the next time someone comes to the TXLA with an accommodation need, they will hopefully be taken more seriously
lets trot down to business about specifics now. the TXLA has re-invited chuck to the original panel and even offered to take a moment at the top of the panel to talk about what happened. this is very kind of them and i will say THANK YOU. 
unfortunately i will also have to decline.
the fact that it took this much effort, social media backlash, and discussion to let me simply EXIST PHYSICALLY in a way that is authentic to myself is not a good sign. if this organization immediately questions an authors chosen presentation in this manner, i cannot imagine what my other accommodations would be met with.
sometimes i am at an event and i very quickly need extra space to breathe. sometimes i am at an event and i need special guides to help me along from place to place. these are not ‘big asks’ and every other conference has gladly provided them, but if the TXLA had this kind of initial reaction to my physical appearance, i cannot imagine them readily helping with my other needs without ‘proof’.
this is clearly not a safe place to trot for those who require additional accommodations. regardless of any apology, their ACTIONS have shown that people who appear unusual or unique are not welcome at this event on a subconscious level. i believe the TXLA have some serious inner work to do beyond this apology, and i believe this inner work will involve actions more than words.
but even more importantly i would like to make this very important point: IT DOES NOT MATTER IF MY MASK IS A DISABILITY AID OR NOT. i appreciate the way this discussion has allowed us to trot out some deep talks on autism and proved love in this way, but i think there is a much more important point at hand.
regardless of WHAT someone looks like, it is not the job of an event or conference to pick apart WHY. physical presentation can be a part of someones neurodivergence, or gender, or sexuality, but i can also just exist as a nebulous undefined part of their inner self. it can be a piece they are not ready to openly discuss yet. the guests at TXLA are authors (aka ARTISTS) and the idea that a conference dedicated to an ART is going to deny people with unique and unusual presentations for ANY reason is absurd. since when are we applying a ‘dress code’ to our artists?
without knowing it, i personally believe there is an element of the ‘good queer, bad queer’ phenomenon going on here. there is a push to say ‘LOOK we accept these marginalized groups and cultures’ but behind the scenes that means ‘we accept these marginalized groups and cultures who are quiet and speak in turn and wear the metaphorical suit and tie’. it is easy to show diversity when you only take on the voices that arent too ‘strange’.
to prove my point i ask you this: do you think orville peck would have FOR ONE SECOND been asked to perform at the texas library association event without his mask?
so with that i say ‘very sincerely, thank you, but i will have to decline the re-invitation. maybe next year’
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mistyorchid · 3 months ago
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Meet-Cute (Ch. 2)
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Old Man Logan x fem! reader
summary: Logan is a man of his word. You and Logan have your first date in the only nice restaurant in town, except it doesn't last long because you want him the food hot to go. Ch. 1 Ch 3 warnings: MDNI, no use of y/n, smut, age gap, reader is 21+, pet names (doll, baby), oral (fem! receiving), fingering, praise kink, light slapping, logan's claws come out, set after the events of Logan (2017) except he doesn't die, some angst it's all in logan's head dw. wc: 4k
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Logan mindlessly traced the glass of water he'd been nursing for the past hour. The circular rim numbed his finger as he theorized all the reasons you might've been late.
He tended to foster seeds of doubt within his mind, an old habit that was built by decades of loss and betrayal. Romance was almost always an empty promise.
Logan checked the clock on the wall without moving his head, not wanting the other patrons to assume he was being stood up. He enjoyed wallowing in his solitude by drinking alone at dingy bars, but that was before he met you. Now, all he could fantasize about was showing you off to every establishment in town, softly guiding you to each bar counter by the small of your back.
The Italian place on fifth street, 8PM, you recited after exiting Logan's limo last night. Before opening the door, you checked your phone. 7:50 PM. You would've arrived twenty minutes earlier, but you didn't want to seem too eager, so you decided to touch up your makeup before heading out.
Logan noticed the restaurant's comforting hum cease when you entered the lobby. He's pretty sure he could hear some poor guy choke on a meatball, stunned at the sight of your little black dress.
You were busy exchanging information with the maître d', nervously darting your eyes around the room to find your date. When he realized you mouthed the word, "Logan," he sprung up from the booth and briskly walked to the lobby.
"Evening, doll," he beamed, extending his arm. A faint blush settled on your cheeks as you looped your hand around his bicep. He stole glances at your outfit as he guided you to the booth, suddenly leaning down to whisper, "You look stunning. I'm glad you came."
Logan gestured towards the seat opposite him, but you motioned for him to scoot further into the booth so you could sit alongside each other.
He raised an eyebrow, confused by the unusual arrangement. You explained, "I want to be next to you, if that's okay. Sitting across from you feels way too formal after last night."
Logan inhaled sharply, suddenly reminded of the intoxicating drag of your skin against his. He replayed the heavenly echo of your debauched whines in his head, silently praying that you'd let him hear them again.
"Yeah, of course," he agreed, sliding to the end of the booth.
You followed, leaving a small gap. The urge to connect your thigh with his was strong, but you tried to maintain decorum for the other patrons. Your eyes briefly met Logan's before surveying the table, noticing that the candle in the centerpiece was comically short.
"How long have you been waiting?" You asked, peering up at Logan's relieved face.
He stroked his beard, contemplating whether to be truthful or lie to save face. "About an hour," he responded. Logan decided that you deserved the truth; he wanted the foundation of your budding relationship to be built on candor. "You weren't late, I arrived way too fuckin' early. Haven't been this nervous for a first date since . . . well, ever."
You pouted your lips and gently placed your right hand on his thigh. He instantly flexed, surprised at the abrupt contact.
"Aw, baby . . . " You doted, slightly leaning to whisper into his ear. "There's nothin' to be nervous about. You already know I like you enough to suck your co-"
Logan swallowed the end of your sentence, his left hand cradling your jaw to angle your lips into his. You gasped into his mouth, earning a playful bite on your lower lip.
"You wanna give me a heart attack, doll? Jesus Christ." He muttered, releasing his grip on you and straightening himself in the booth.
You smirked, removing your hand from his thigh. A waiter appeared, acknowledging your arrival. "Ah, good evening, signorina," he beamed. "Mr. Howlett has been patiently waiting for you. Welcome to Frizzante."
While placing two menus on the table, he started reciting the specials, emphasizing the last item. "Tonight, our chef has prepared a Festa degli Innamorati. Lover's Feast," he translated.
Logan wanted the seat cushions to swallow him whole. Frizzante's sous chef was a personal friend of his; the bastard must've seen his name on the reservation and whipped up something special to embarrass him.
You stifled a laugh at the sight of Logan's dumbfounded expression. "It's served family-style, with two separate plates so you can share. It's a beautiful spaghetti dish blended with the savory roe of sea urchins and fresh margherita tomatoes. I assure you, it's an incredibly rich and unique experience."
"That sounds wonderful," you chimed, appreciating the waiter's suggestion.
Logan couldn't help admiring the sweet smile that spread across your face. He slid the menus towards the waiter before responding, "We'll take the Lover's Feast, thank you." He silently cringed at the feeling of the special name rolling off his tongue, but he found himself willing to curtail his pride if it made you happy.
The steady hum of the restaurant lulled you into a comfortable silence. The waiter soon returned with a glass of water and a warm basket that filled the air with the savory scent of flour and butter.
Logan picked it up, offering you a slice. "Would you like some bread?"
"Yes, please. Thank you." You giggled as you retrieved a slice.
After you sunk your teeth into the aromatic bread, he took a slice for himself. "What's so funny?" He asked, playfully raising his eyebrows.
You chewed slowly, savoring the richness of the dough. "You're being so . . . proper. I'm not used to guys treating dates like . . ."
". . . A date?" Logan finished, perplexed by your response. "Those guys don't know how to treat a woman." He huffed, wondering how anyone could fuck up the privilege of courting you.
Your eyes raked over his clean blazer, following the strong curve of his arm before landing on his wrist.
"You're wearing cufflinks . . . " You murmured, in awe of the lustrous material.
Logan moved his arm closer so you could feel them. "You gotta expect more than the bare minimum, baby." He chuckled.
You slowly swirled the round cufflinks with your middle finger. "So-" You paused, shifting closer so your bare leg finally grazed the cool material of his slacks. "-If you're so traditional, why didn't you pick me up?"
Logan cleared his throat, stunned by your confidence. "I would've, doll, trust me. Then I figured that you might've been uncomfortable if I asked where you lived. Best to meet in a public space," he reasoned.
His concern for your safety was undeniably attractive. You stopped tracing the edge of his cufflinks before whispering, "I fucked you within an hour of meeting you. I would've been comfortable giving you my address."
The fragrant smell of your pasta dish wafted through the aisle, momentarily relieving Logan from having to respond.
"Attached at the hip already?" The waiter quipped, noticing your proximity to Logan. He delicately lowered the platter onto the table, followed by two silverware sets and the most intricate plates you've ever seen.
"Buon appetito." The waiter gestured towards the dish with a grand flourish of his hand and then promptly walked away.
Logan waited for him to be out of earshot before saying, "I want to get to know you, but you're making it extremely fuckin' difficult with that dirty mouth of yours."
He used his utensils to scoop a large portion of pasta onto your plate before serving himself.
You bit your lip, picking up a fork to slowly twirl the fresh noodles. "Alright, what do you wanna know?" You asked, lifting the fork into your mouth.
"What do you do for fun? Besides fucking strangers within an hour of meeting them."
You choked on your food, shooting an accusatory glare towards Logan. "Okay, okay . . . you got me good. Um, I like going to shows. Punk, country, pop . . . I just love to feel the music in my bones."
Logan put his fork down and rested his chin on his palm, invested in your answer. He briefly envisioned your hips swaying to the soulful twang of Willie Nelson. "Live music, huh? I know a club around here that promotes every genre under the sun. We should go some time."
His left hand traced gentle circles on your knee. "This okay?" He asked, briefly pausing his movements. You rested your fork on the plate. "Mhm," you chirped, pleased by his courtesy.
"I also enjoy making art," you continued. Logan leaned closer. The majority of his past was dedicated to destroying things and harming people. He'd always admired those who used their time on earth to create.
"What kind of art?" Logan asked. You were distracted by the warmth of his palm, which was now splayed over the broad expanse of your thigh.
"I, uh- I like drawing, painting, making collages . . . mostly drawing, though. It's peaceful, you know? Making something out of nothing." You chewed the inside of your cheek, flustered by how intently Logan was looking at you.
He was daydreaming about making space for a studio back at the smelting plant, bringing you tea while you worked well into the night. The domesticity that he secretly yearned for manifested itself in your image.
"You're so beautiful, you know that? Could listen to you talk forever."
You smiled and bashfully looked down into your lap. "Thank you . . . " You lingered, focused on how he absentmindedly stroked your thigh with his thumb.
"What about you? What do you do in your free time?" You asked, peering up at him through your eyelashes.
"After work, I usually head to a bar and pop a couple of quarters in the jukebox to hear Cash while I drink."
Your eyes lit up at the mention of your favorite country artist. "Cash? Like, Johnny Cash? I love him."
Logan couldn't believe that you didn't make a snide remark about his "hobby." He elaborated anyway, not wanting to seem lazy in comparison.
"Yeah, exactly. I also like fixin' old motorcycles and gardening. Keeps me in shape, I guess." He didn't miss the way your thigh flexed, reacting to his words.
You loved a man who was handy . . . in more ways than one.
"You wanna get out of here?" You asked, desperate to relieve the palpable tension that settled in the charged space between your bodies. Your senses were overwhelmed again; the heady scent of his cologne mixing nicely with the smokey tendrils emanating from the candle.
Logan smirked. "I thought you'd never ask. My place or yours?"
Although your apartment was only a short walk's distance from the restaurant, you wanted to immerse yourself in a slice of Logan's world.
"I'd love to go home with you, if that's okay." You shyly tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
He fished out his wallet and haphazardly threw more than enough cash to cover the bill and your waiter's tip. The velvet material of your dress bunched around your thighs, further exaggerating the short hem.
Logan averted his eyes as you slid out of the booth. You turned around and tilted your head, realizing why he wasn't looking at you. "You're such a gentleman," you praised, straightening your dress.
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Logan didn't feel like a gentleman when he helped you into the passenger seat of his limo. He almost opened the back door, reminded of your first night together.
Your eyes grew heavy an hour into the drive. You yawned, soothed by the soft turns of the road and the limo's plush headrest.
"Sorry, doll. My place is a bit farther, away from the city." Logan apologized. "Feel free to rest up. I'll wake you when we get there," he continued.
You surrendered to your fatigue and closed your eyes. "Mkay. Thanks, Logan."
He smiled, glancing at the passenger seat a few times to admire how peaceful you looked.
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The first thing you felt when you woke up was Logan's callused hands supporting the back of your knees and your spine. You felt pleasantly weightless above the ground, realizing that Logan was carrying you past the threshold of a doorway.
"Mornin," he joked, noticing you scanning your surroundings. It was still late in the evening.
"Didn't want to wake you," he whispered, gently setting you on his bed. The smooth texture of the sheets contrasted with the rough corrugated walls of your environment.
"Where exactly do you live?" You asked, puzzled by the industrial nature of his home.
"A smelting plant north of the border. People leave me alone out here," he chuckled.
Logan exhaled as he sat on the edge of his bed, turning to meet your shocked expression.
"You mean I'm in Mexico right now? Logan!" You exclaimed, lightly slapping his arm.
He caught your wrist, weaving his large fingers through yours. "You're lucky I'm such a gentleman," he teased, reiterating your choice of words a few hours prior. Your hand relaxed into his.
"First, you followed me into my car. Tonight, you fell asleep while I drove to fuckin' Mexico. Now, you're in my bed wearing nothin' but a cute little dress," Logan smirked, letting his hand fall on his knee. His back ached from turning to caress your palm.
You blushed. "I can tell you're a good guy. I wouldn't have gone home with you if I didn't."
Logan doubted your praise. I'll force myself to pretend that's true, he thought.
The comforting chirp of cicadas serenaded you from outside. Linen curtains gently billowed above your head; the cool night air swathing your body like a translucent blanket. Logan suddenly averted his eyes, exposing the rugged plane of his neck. You breathed in notes of fresh cotton and bourbon as his potent cologne fanned out across the room.
"I need you, Logan." You sighed, slowly drifting onto your back and languidly spreading your legs. Your dress prevented you from fully relieving the throbbing sensation in your core, so you settled for tracing the inside of your thigh instead.
You faint sighs cascaded over your arched form and into Logan's ears like a siren's song.
Too many fuckin' layers, he thought, quickly unbuttoning his blazer and dress shirt before tossing them onto the floor.
He groaned when you skimmed the hard outline of his torso, gently tracing a prominent scar that ran across his ribcage. Logan leaned into your touch, closing his eyes and releasing hushed breaths.
He could get used to you tending to his wounds.
Logan strained his back to grip your legs, swinging you around so that your lower half hung over the bed.
"Can I take this off for you, baby?" He whispered, gathering the material of your dress by your hips.
"Mhm . . . " You nodded, hooking your knees over his shoulders for support. His palms firmly slid up your thighs and effortlessly shimmied the dress below your ass, pausing when the hem caught on the underside of your breasts.
He purposefully pressed the material harder against your torso before exposing your tits, forcing them to bounce harshly against your chest.
"You're so pretty," he sighed, cupping your breasts and leaning forward to gently tug on your nipples with his teeth. You bit your lip, knitting your eyebrows together as you admired how content he looked.
Logan's cock twitched in his slacks when your breath hitched in your throat after a particularly hard tug.
"You like when I make your tits sore, hm? Want me to make it all better?" He cooed, blowing lightly on your stiff nipples before enveloping them with his mouth.
His eyes rolled into the back of his head when you grabbed a fistful of his hair.
You crossed your arms, hastily moving your dress over your head. Logan paused, realizing that your shoes were still on. He slowly released your tits as he slinked down your body, his hot breath raising goosebumps along your stomach.
"Fuck," Logan moaned, now eye-level with your cunt. Your cotton underwear was soaked, clinging to the outline of your lips.
It was the simplest pair you owned, but Logan marveled at it like it was the most expensive set in the world.
He pushed closer, resting his chin on the edge of the bed. He arched his back slightly to accommodate the stretch.
"Can I taste you, baby?" He pleaded, staring at your dilated pupils.
"'Course you can, Logan . . . You can do anything to me, I-" He flattened his tongue and dragged it over your underwear, tasting the wetness that escaped the material.
The delicious pressure of his tongue cut off your response. "I trust you," you continued.
You whined when Logan distanced himself from your core to unbuckle your shoes.
"Shhh, let your old man make you more comfortable," he doted, placing a sweet kiss on your heel.
He resumed a kneeling position, sliding his hands under your thighs and bringing your clothed cunt closer to his hungry gaze. The intoxicating musk of your arousal unlocked a primal instinct within Logan.
A primal groan ripped from his throat as his claws unsheathed on either side of your face. His cock bucked into the unforgiving material of his pants.
After realizing what he'd done, Logan quickly withdrew his claws. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, doll, I could've hurt you . . . won't happen again," he apologized profusely.
You propped your elbows on the bed to get a better look at the bloody slits between his knuckles. "Oh my god," you gasped, eyes widening in fascination. "Are you a mutant?"
Logan's eyes slowly met yours, initially afraid to be met with a fearful expression. "Yes, I am. I've always had these claws, but they weren't always this-" Logan flexed his arm, a faint snikt sound filling the air. "-sharp," he continued.
Logan held his breath as you slowly ran a finger along the blunt side of the blade, admiring the way it reflected the moonlight.
"They're beautiful, Logan." You carefully guided his right hand to rest on your thigh. "Can you tear this off?" You asked, lightly snapping the underwear elastic against your hip.
"I don't want to hurt you, doll." Logan's claws hesitantly hovered over your skin.
"I trust you, remember?" You pulled the elastic away from your body, allowing him to lightly twist his wrist and cut through the fabric.
You gasped as your underwear scattered on the bed. Your cunt fluttered around nothing, suddenly exposed to the cool night air and Logan's unwavering gaze.
Your empathy startled him. Those who had gifted him their trust had often suffered, cursing him to an eternity of self-loathing. He felt undeserving of your kindness.
"Wanna make it up to you," he promised, moving your legs onto his shoulders.
The tantalizingly slow drag of his tongue against your folds made your thighs quiver against his head. He chuckled, prying your legs apart with his callused palms.
He gently lapped into your eager hole, moving his head up and down to increase his range of movement.
You mewled when the tip of his nose bumped against your clit.
"Oh, fuck. My girl's rosebud is so sensitive . . . " He groaned, lightly kissing your clit before sucking it into his eager mouth.
His right hand inched up your thigh, teasingly stroking the apex of your leg.
"How many fingers can you take, doll?" He slowly slid his middle finger inside, palm flushed against your sensitive folds. His lips were still stimulating your clit, now adding the delicious drag of his finger.
Your hips raised off the bed, eagerly meeting his thrusts. "Ah!" You whimpered after Logan pulled out before adding a second finger. He spread his digits, satisfying the hollow throb in your core.
"Three . . . I need three," you elaborated, biting your lip to stifle your needy moans.
His fingers slipped out of your cunt with an embarrassingly loud squelch before easing into your pliant mouth.
"Wanna hear you, baby. That's it," he cooed, making you enjoy the taste of your own slick.
Your tongue trailed the crook of his fingers, mimicking the patterns you traced on his cock last night.
You whimpered when Logan used your saliva to guide three fingers into your weeping pussy.
"Holy fuck, Logan . . . Mm," you babbled, eyes glazing over at the overwhelming feeling of his thick fingers stretching your walls.
If you could sit upright, you'd wipe that cocky grin off his face.
"You're so fuckin' wet for me, doll. Takin' me so well," he praised, focused on increasing the rhythm of his thrusts.
"Oh, I know you want my thick cock, baby . . . Is that why you chose three, hm?" Logan taunted, abruptly pausing his movements.
You whine, spreading your legs even farther apart to invite him back in.
"Yes, fuck-" you admitted, eyes screwing shut at the feeling of fingers returning home.
You felt Logan smirk into your clit as he confessed, "You think you can come without my cock? Tonight's all about you, doll."
The growing pressure in your abdomen threatened to burst, spurred on by Logan's filthy words. He enthusiastically lapped at your cunt, collecting the wetness that pooled near the base of his fingers and gliding up your folds before licking your clit.
He lightly slapped your pearl, motivated to usher in your release as you clamped your knees around his head.
"Holy shit, doll . . . your pussy's singing just for me, hm?" He hummed, referencing the vulgar sounds emanating from your folds with every thrust.
He expertly twisted his wrist as his fingers glided through your cunt. The new movement stimulated the sensitive nerves of your walls, earning a guttural moan.
"Oh my god, I'm . . . I'm coming," you whined, throwing your head back against the mattress.
Logan intertwined his left hand with yours, silently permitting you to squeeze it through your orgasm.
Your back arched, overstimulated by Logan's relentless attention to your pussy. You were too busy rocking your hips against his mouth to register him burrowing his cock into the sheets, a ragged growl escaping his lips as he spurted into his slacks.
"It's too- fuck, too much, Logan . . . " You stuttered, pawing at his forehead to distance yourself from his tongue.
You raised yourself on your elbows just in time to witness him savoring the taste of your cum, his tongue darting against the sensitive pads of his fingers and swallowing with a content moan.
"Mhm . . ." He drawled. "Sweeter than sugar, baby."
You covered your eyes and slumped against the mattress. Logan made you feel hopelessly giddy, and you loved it.
"Stop it, Logan . . . " You cringed, aware of the rosy blush that adorned your cheeks.
He scooped your knees with his right hand and supported your back with his left, mirroring the stance he assumed when he first laid you on the bed. You nuzzled your cheek against the soft pillow, thoroughly satisfied and exhausted.
The small twin-sized bed couldn't support the full breadth of his back, so he turned on his side, lovingly bumping his nose against yours.
You lazily stroked his graying beard, noticing that the whiskers closest to his mouth were damp with your arousal.
You blushed. Again.
"I usually don't even let guys kiss me on the first date. You should be grateful," You teased.
Logan lightly kissed your wandering fingers. "Trust me, princess, I am. Thank you.
Princess . . . that was new. You draped your left leg over the strong muscle of his thigh, suddenly needing to be consumed by his warmth.
He just coaxed an explosive orgasm from you using his mouth, and he was thanking you?
Words failed you. You decided to snuggle closer into the inviting expanse of his bare chest. Logan shamelessly gripped the supple flesh of your ass, pulling you flush against his body.
"I think our first date went well, hm?" He cooed into your ear. Your breathing slowed to the point where Logan assumed you had dozed off.
You felt his body still to avoid waking you up. He whispered, "I hope we get to go on a million more."
Your ears perked up at his covert promise of devotion.
I hope so, too, you thought before finally falling asleep.
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Thanks for sticking around for Ch. 2 of Meet-Cute!
an: Their banter was so fun to write. Also if you don't go to shows (I'm talkin' small clubs, not stadiums) or make art shhhh wdym, you're literally reader?! Anyway, I specified those hobbies because everyone can do them, yay! The FBI-level questioning that usually occurs on first dates was shortened to keep this a true reader insert (my reasoning for reader's vague background.) *The jukebox bit is canon, from Wolverine Vol. 1 (Benjamin Percy.)
tag list: @th3mrskory @fairiebabey @bratscave @elflutter
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luvsupa · 6 months ago
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“PRINCE GOJO?!”
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tags: fem!reader x prince! gojo satoru, childhood enemies to lovers (eventually), slow burn, bully!gojo, angst, royalty, lots of tension, smut-ish, kissing, gojos very cocky, there will be multiple parts to this! mdni.
w.c: 2.7k (sorry)
a/n: THANK U ALL FOR THE SUPPORT!! I had to make a different blog bc my old one @luvsupas was not working :(( so this is my new blog !! (I’ll be reposting the sukuna fics soon)
part 2!
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the grand halls of the gojo estate echoed with the quiet elegance of centuries-old tradition. white and blue hues filled the castle, weaving through the curtains and tapestries. each door bore the rich blues of the family crest with gold accents.
this year, the gojos have invited your family to spend the season at the estate—a common occurrence given the close relationship between your families. however, this is the first time they have personally invited you. usually, your parents would spend the warm season at the gojo palace while you remained in your quarters, convincing them each year that you had more important activities to tend to. little did they know of your personal dislike for gojo satoru.
growing up, you and satoru never got along. he always belittled you and excluded you from activities. as you both reached your mid-teens, your bickering became more extreme. he would embarrass you during family dinners and important gatherings. initially, you thought he might have feelings for you until he and his friends humiliated you with a fake confession. just as he leaned in to kiss you, you found yourself pushed into the garden pool, their laughter echoing around you. that day hurt more than any argument you had ever had with him. you felt a sense of freedom when satoru and his family moved estates to a bigger palace, as if the old one wasn’t big enough.
walking behind your parents, you are stopped by the guards who open the double doors to the drawing room. inside, you see satoru’s parents already engaged in conversation, which halts as the doors open. “your majesties,” your parents say as you all bow slightly in respect.
“please, no need for formality!” the queen, satoru’s mother, says, embracing you in a warm hug. her bright blue eyes catch your attention, her royal blue gown making the color pop, similar to satoru’s eyes.
soon, the king, satoru’s father, and your father are deep in their own conversation, while your mother and satoru’s mother catch up, leaving you alone in the gigantic room, observing and listening. you begin to wonder where satoru would be—
“you’ve changed since i last saw you! adulthood suits you well,” satoru’s mother compliments your appearance, interrupting your thoughts. “thank you, your majesty,” you respond, quickly apologizing for the formality at her glare.
“satoru will attend tomorrow’s gala,” she continues, and your ears perk up at his name. “he’s been studying abroad, and it’s perfect timing for his return!” the queen informs you. how did she know you were curious about his whereabouts?
as the conversation winds down, the king informs you all that your rooms are prepared, allowing you to get comfortable in your temporary home.
⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *
as night falls and the estate quiets down, you busy yourself unpacking, trying to make your new room feel like your own.
just as you’re almost finished, the grand doors slam, followed by cheers and applause. did i miss the gala? you hurry out of your room, following the noise to the grand staircase. from the top, you see gojo’s parents, guards, and servants clapping—there he is, his tall figure embracing his mother and father, basking in their affection.
quickly and quietly, you retreat, hoping to avoid any interaction with gojo. but on your way back to your room, you bump into your parents. “oh, there you are, darling. we were just looking for you to welcome satoru home!” your mother says, guiding you down the stairs despite your resistance. “i can’t—i’m not dressed in formal attire,” you protest, glancing down at your pajama gown. “nonsense, dear. wear my robe. you must greet him,” your mother insists, wrapping her silk golden robe around you as you descend the steps.
you curse yourself for leaving your room. this cannot be happening. “our little prince, we’ve missed you!” your mother exclaims, nudging you towards satoru. he greets your parents warmly, but when his eyes land on you, his demeanor shifts. he ignores you at first, addressing your parents with practiced charm.
you stand there, awkward and tense, as the one person you despise charms your parents. suddenly, he grabs your hand, his touch both surprising and unwelcome. “it’s been a while, hasn’t it, my lady,” he says with a disingenuous smile, softly kissing your hand. you stand there, slightly pouting, stunned by his audacity. then he leans in, his breath warm against your ear, “did you want me to kiss that pout like before, hmm?” his tone is condescending, followed by a dark chuckle.
you gasp as embarrassment floods your senses, old humiliations resurfacing. you shove him away, and he stumbles back, drawing your mother’s attention. she starts to scold you, but he intervenes smoothly. “don’t worry, it was a playful shove, wasn’t it, my lady?” his blue eyes lock onto yours, and you feel the weight of everyone’s gaze. “i’m sorry, i don’t feel well. goodnight,” you manage to say, rushing up the stairs and into your room, praying for the season to end quickly so you can escape his presence.
⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *
as the morning light floods the room, you’re met with bright sun rays directly in your eyes, eliciting a groan of distress. the thought of last night’s events churns your stomach in embarrassment. pushing aside the memories, you get dressed for breakfast to join the mothers calm breakfast outside.
approaching your mother and gojo’s mother, they turn their attention to you, their expressions lighting up with amusement and boosting your ego.
“how beautiful! It’s delightful to have breakfast with you two!” gojo’s mother remarks, her eyes shifting between you and behind your figure. two? your smile fades as you turn to see satoru standing behind you—ego crushed. walking together to the dining table, you take your seats across from each other. how much worse can this morning get?
“we were just discussing the gala happening tonight. this will be good upon arrival, ‘toru,” his mother explains. tou notice his visible annoyance at the nickname. he doesn’t like being called ‘toru—noted. you sit in silence, quietly eating the food prepared by the hardworking chefs. just as you’re enjoying your meal, you hear an obnoxious squeal, “my prince! you’re finally back!” all four of you turn towards the noise. a beautiful tanned skinned woman draped in a lilac gown, runs towards your table as her maid struggles to keep up.
you watch her movements, as she runs straight to satoru, tears filling her eyes. she jumps into his lap, smothering him with kisses. the entire scene makes you wish you had never attended. without any shame, they engage in a heated make-out session in front of everyone. satoru opens his eyes to see your visible shock as he smiles into the kiss, while still maintaining eye contact with you.
the queen coughs, breaking the moment. the unknown woman apologizes to the queen without looking, maintaining her gaze on satoru. “ruru, I missed you so much! we should go up to your quarters soon,” she whispers, but unfortunately, you hear. “ayana, that’s enough. my mother was discussing the gala tonight,” satoru replies, disregarding her request as she pouts. so that’s her name.
“hello, your majesty. I apologize for my behavior; I haven’t seen satoru in so long!” ayana formally apologizes to the queen and everyone who had to witness that display. gojo adjusts her position, propping her up on his lap with her back against his chest. as gojo’s mother looks annoyed from the interruption, but she continues where she left off.
as breakfast continues, you try to focus on the discussion about the ball, but it’s impossible to ignore the tension radiating from across the table. satoru’s voice is low, murmuring something to ayana that makes her giggle. your curiosity piqued, you glance up- and nearly choke on your food.
satorus hand is shamelessly sliding up ayana’s thigh, disappearing beneath her dress. her breath hitches, a soft gasp escaping her lips but her eyes are locked onto you. he’s doing this on purpose, you realize. the sick twist in your stomach intensifying. he continues fingering her under the table as she’s holding back from releasing a loud moan, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches your reaction.
your heart pounds in your chest as he continues his sinful acts publicly. you abrubtly push your chair back, catching the attention from everyone as you quickly excuse yourself, standing up on shaky legs. satorus eyes follow you, a triumphant gleam as ayana clings to him, her giggles haunting you as it echos in your ears.
⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *
you’re getting ready for the long-awaited ball, adorned in a gown that perfectly complements your skin tone. as you make your way to the drawing room, you realize you're ready before anyone else, which allows you to kill time and explore the estate. eventually, you find yourself in the grand library, which is far larger than you anticipated. a beautiful fireplace is placed near a cluster of chairs, offering a cozy spot for reading. browsing the bookshelves, you find yourself drawn to scientific novels that capture your interest.
“library’s not your usual scene, sweetheart. did you get lost on the way to the ballroom, or are you trying to impress me with your newfound scholarly interest?”
you quickly turn around at the voice. great. “trying to impress you? I have better things to do than seek validation from someone like you,” you spit back. he steps closer to you, and you already hate the proximity between you two.
“feisty, aren’t we?” he continues to walk closer, both of you now toe-to-toe as you look up at him, his towering presence looming over you. “you’re still the same girl I used to taunt,” he mocks with a fake pout, his voice dripping in condescension.
he closes the space between you, his warmth radiating off his body as you inhale his rich, masculine scent. “used to follow me around like a lost puppy—always trailing around, desperate for my attention. how pathetic.”
your jaw clenches with frustration, but you refuse to show him how much his words affect you. “maybe I did back then,” you retort, your tone laced with defiance. “but that was long ago. I see you exactly for who you are, satoru—someone who gets off on belittling others.”
his laughter rings out, grating on your nerves. he leans in, your faces dangerously close, your lips almost touching. “am I now?” he smirks, a look you want to slap off his face. “but deep down, you still crave my attention, don’t you? admit it, darling.”
his eyes flicker between your lips and your eyes, and you’re betraying yourself- slowly leaning in to kiss someone you so desperately hate—
“ruru! where are you? I hope you’re dressed!”
you’re the first to move back, breaking whatever spell he had you under. you look up at him in fear, while he looks at you with amusement. he has you wrapped around his finger, and you both know it. with a final smirk, he leaves to find ayana, leaving you alone in the library with so much to process.
⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *
as you composed yourself and caught a breather, you exited the library and made your way to the ball room. the grand space was adorned with vintage antiques, paintings, a live orchestra, and all the opulence one would expect from a gojo event. the ballroom teemed with more people than you anticipated, their gowns and suits a beautiful contrast against the castle backdrop.
feeling nervous, you scanned the room, seeing your parents conversing with the king and queen. the refreshment bar catches your attention and make your way to the bar as you help yourself to a cool drink. suddenly, you felt a presence too close for comfort behind you. turning, you see ayana.
“you’re ruru’s friend, right?” she said, eyeing you up and down.
“ehh, I wouldn’t really say—" you began, but she cut you off.
“well, he’s told me so much about you! especially before he started his studies!” she informed you, causing your heart to skip a beat. he talks about me? “ahh good things I hope,” you reply with an awkward chuckle at the end.
“good? oh no, honey! he was always telling us how obnoxious you were, driven by your hopeless feelings for him,” she continued with a smirk.
oh.
“I’m very amazed at how you still came to see him despite your little feelings. after all, him and I are together,” she said, trying to flaunt her status. your mood shifted, and the desire to leave resurfaced. she rambled on, recounting embarrassing moments you wished were never brought up, as you zoned out of her relentless gossip. suddenly, your conversation was abruptly interrupted. finally.
“ladies and gentlemen,” one of the guards loudly caught everyone’s attention, silencing the room. “welcome back your prince, gojo satoru.”
as corny as it could get, gojo walked in with full confidence, the center of attention as the room filled with cheers and clapped for his arrival. internally scoffing, you discreetly made your way to the doors leading to one of the gardens, exiting the ballroom to avoid his speech.
taking in the scenery of the fountain and lush greenery, the orchestra continued playing, indicating gojo had finished his welcome speech. “not interested in what I have to say?” an annoying voice pierced through from your peripheral vision. you were so fed up with the past events that you just stared at him in annoyance.
“what troubles you, darling? do you seek my attention now?” his voice dripped with a sly undertone, causing your jaw to clench in frustration.
“I’ll see you inside, prince gojo,” you replied through gritted teeth, your tone dripping with bitterness. with a curt nod, you turned away, walking back to the ballroom, leaving gojo stunned for the first time—not by you leaving him alone, but by addressing him with such formality. it was always satoru.
⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *
part 2!
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waywardxrhea · 3 months ago
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Right Person, Right Time - Spencer Reid
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pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (no use of y/n)
part three of mini series: Casual, butterfly effect
There is a BAU celebration at David's house and Spencer invites you as his plus one so you can formally meet the team.
word count: ~2.1k
content: fluff! sickly sweet fluff i was kicking my feet and giggling while writing this!
dividers by @firefly-graphics
now playing: Right Person, Right Time by Leanna Firestone <3
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“Hey, are you okay?” Spencer asked, leaning down a bit to kiss the bare part of your neck that he could access at the moment. Spencer practically wrapped himself around you from behind after helping you out of the car before the two of you were to head up the drive to the mansion of a home in front of you and it helped you relax a bit, but you guessed that he could still sense something off in your behavior. 
“I’m just nervous is all…” you replied, busying your hands by messing with the clasp of the clutch you had chosen to match your dress for the night. 
“What’s making you nervous?” he asked, voice just as soft as the hold he had on your waist. 
“Meeting your coworkers…” you admitted in a sort of hushed whisper as you tried to control your building anxiety toward the impending moment you were to cross the threshold of the home and formally meet the BAU team. “Their first impression of me wasn’t exactly my best moment and I’m just scared that they’ll judge me for it…”
“I assure you they won’t, they’re actually really excited to meet you,” Spencer said as he pulled your body closer to his. “But if you ever feel uncomfortable at all tonight, just tell me and we’ll head home, okay?”
“Okay,” you whispered, nodding your head as a small smile made its way onto your lips. 
“Are you ready?” Spencer asked as he slowly unfurled himself from around your body. 
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you affirmed, lacing your fingers in his as the two of you approached the door. 
When you got to the door and Spencer rang the bell, your nerves began to rise and you felt your heart begin to pound wildly in your chest, feeling like it was threatening to escape its cage at any moment. The door opened to reveal a jovial looking Italian man who greeted the both of you cheerfully, placing a kiss on both of your cheeks as if he had known you since you were a little girl. The gesture put a smile on your face and you began to feel less nervous as you offered him a gift bag you had brought that contained a bottle of fine wine that Maddie assured you would impress him. 
He took the bottle out from the bag and examined it, a smile on his face as he said, “Ciacci Piccolomini d'Aragona, a fine choice young lady! I’ve been meaning to get my hands on a bottle of this! Thank you!”
“Of course, thank you for opening up your home to us,” you told him graciously, your gaze darting around the beautiful home as he guided you and Spencer into the area where the rest of the BAU members were milling about chatting amongst themselves. 
When the three of you emerged into the area, eyes were instantly on you and they weighed heavily, causing your own to dart down to the floor as your grip on Spencer’s hand tightened. Your heart thudded hard in your ears, so much so that you barely heard Spencer announce, “Everyone, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend.” You looked up to him for a sense of comfort and you got it as he told the team your name in one of the fondest tones you had ever heard him speak in before planting a kiss on your forehead to seal the deal even further. 
Your nerves began to decrease further as each member of the team in turn came to introduce themself warmly, without an ounce of judgment in their eyes or voice as they did. The only exception to your lessening anxiety was when Derek finally approached you with a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite read because you once again averted your eyes as he approached you. They finally looked back up toward his face when he gently said your name and in the most sincere and remorseful voice told you, “I’m sorry for coming off as rude the first few times we encountered each other.” His tone turned into more of a teasing one as he gently punched Spencer’s arm and added, “It’s no excuse on my part, but I was just happy that pretty boy here was getting some!” His tone returned to seriousness as he addressed you again, saying, “It was uncalled for though, and I’m sorry for how it made you feel. I hope you can forgive me.”
Before you could respond, Penelope joined in on the conversation, chipperly saying, “Oh look at you being all sweet and apologizing!” She leaned closer to you and said in an almost conspiratory voice, “I was rooting for you the whole time! Call it friend intuition or what have you, but from the moment I saw you two together at the bar I knew things would work out!”
You let out a quiet laugh at her words and leaned into Spencer’s embrace as you told the pair, “Thank you. I’m happy things worked out as well as they did.”
Before the conversation could go any further, your lovely host reemerged into the area and clapped his hands together as he announced, “All right, I hope everyone is hungry! Tonight is carbonara a la Rossi paired with a beautiful wine courtesy of the lovely future Mrs. Reid.” He ended the statement with a wink in your direction that had you blushing and burying your face into Spencer’s shoulder as he chuckled.
“Oh come on David, don’t embarrass the girl so soon!” Emily jokingly chastised him as the group began migrating to the kitchen to dig into the meal. 
As everyone served themselves and sat down, Spencer asked David something quietly and the older man nodded before heading back into the kitchen and returning with a bottle of white wine that he placed beside you along with a glass. “Reds aren’t for everyone, I understand,” he told you, gently squeezing your shoulder as Spencer grabbed the bottle and began opening it to pour you a glass. 
“Thank you, you really didn’t have to accommodate me like that though, I wouldn’t want to put you out of your collection,” you rambled apologetically as you eyed the expensive looking bottle in Spencer’s hands. 
“What’s a good wine for if not for sharing?” David asked, giving you a warm smile before he made his way to his seat at the head of the table to begin the meal. 
By the end of the meal you were on your second glass of deliciously smooth and sweet white wine and had finished your pasta, telling David, “I think this is hands down the best pasta I’ve ever had!”
“Why thank you, sweetheart,” he replied with a chuckle. Just as your attention was being taken away by JJ asking you a question about your job, you could have sworn you saw David mouth to Spencer ‘I love her’ which made your heart soar as you felt Spencer’s hand squeeze your thigh right as he did. 
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Later that evening after dessert and another few glasses of wine, you had your legs draped over Spencer’s lap as you lounged in the living room, deep in conversation with Derek about the latest NFL season. Derek’s laugh rang throughout the room as he persisted in his playful argument with you, saying, “Nuh uh, your Chiefs got nothing on my Bears! We’re set up for the playoffs while the Chiefs are having one of the worst seasons in the NFL!”
“Just you wait! One day they’ll be Super Bowl Champs!” you retaliated with a giggle falling from your lips. 
“No way! With their record lately, I’d be surprised if they’re even a team come next season!” Derek teased. 
“Oh bite me!” you said with a playful roll of your eyes. 
“Nah, you’ve got pretty boy to do that for you,” he said as he sent a wink in Spencer’s direction. 
You pulled yourself forward and hung your arms around Spencer’s neck and sent him pleading eyes as you said, “Come on, Spence, back me up here!”
Spencer shook his head as he chuckled and told you, “I love you, but I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” He leaned into you and kissed you quickly before adding, “But you look damn good so I say you’re winning here.”
“Why thank you,” you said matter-of-factly before giving him another kiss back, earning a wolf whistle from Derek. 
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After parting ways from David’s house and once more telling everyone how good it was to meet them, you and Spencer had made your way back to his apartment for the evening. You giggled as you held onto Spencer for balance, your heels and the wine in your system doing no favors for your coordination. “Did you have a good night?” Spencer asked as he unlocked the door and guided you inside, leading you to the couch and helping you out of your heels. 
“Mmm, I did,” you told him, a lazy smile on your face as you momentarily closed your eyes. 
“Are you ready for bed?” he asked with a chuckle, his voice a bit far off as you assumed he was putting your shoes in their place by the door. 
“I wanna dance,” you told him. 
“You want to dance?” Spencer asked with a bit of humor in his voice as he helped you to stand. 
“Yes, I wanna slow dance with you,” you told him while gesturing to the record player on the table nearby. 
“Then slow dance we shall,” he replied as he let go of you temporarily in order to flick through his record collection to choose the perfect one for the occasion. When you heard the tell-tale crackling of the record starting up, Spencer was back in your arms and telling you, “But just a fair warning I’m not much of a dancer.”
“Neither am I, I just want to be in your arms,” you told him as the beginning notes to The Way You Look Tonight by Frank Sinatra began playing. 
So the two of you swayed in each other’s arms to each song on the first side of the Sinatra record. Spencer occasionally twirled you around slowly with the biggest smile on his face before pulling you into a kiss. When the record stopped spinning, you let out a tired yawn and leaned into Spencer’s chest as you closed your eyes contently. 
“How about we get ready for bed?” Spencer offered quietly which made you startle back into consciousness that you didn’t even realize you faded out of. 
Rather than replying verbally, you simply nodded and held Spencer’s hand as he guided you into the bathroom where the two of you brushed your teeth and he helped you with as much of your skin routine as he could before you were already nodding off once more. Getting you out of your dress and into a nightgown was a bit of an easier task for Spencer and he got you comfortable in the bed before he began changing into his night clothes too. 
Right before Spencer could pull back the covers and join your already sleeping form, his phone began to ring with a video call from his mother. He quickly answered the call as he exited the bedroom and greeted his mom with a warm smile and a, “Hey Mom, is everything okay?”
“You look disgustingly smitten, Spencer. Did you meet someone?” Diana asked as her form of greeting to her son. 
Spencer chuckled as he grabbed a glass to fill with water, nodding to his mother and telling her your name once again and how he had taken you to meet the team today and then slow danced in his living room to Frank Sinatra. “I’m really happy, Mom,” he told her fondly as he sat down on the couch. “Before I met her I always thought that love had passed me by and that there was something wrong with me. I always wondered what about myself I could change to be more appealing to others but then she came into my life and she makes me love who I am. I swear she’s like sunshine in human form and I can’t wait for you to meet her.”
“I can’t wait to meet the lucky girl,” she agreed. “When you know, you know, and I can see it in your eyes that you do.”
Spencer nodded, telling her, “That I do.” 
After Diana ended the video call with Spencer a little while later, he made his way back into the bedroom and snuck under the covers to be with you. Even asleep you gravitated toward him, your legs intertwining with his and your face snuggling into his chest as a small smile made its way onto your lips. Letting out a content sigh, Spencer kissed your forehead and closed his eyes, feeling like the happiest man on earth in that moment. 
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a/n: omg y'all i'm sad to see this couple go they were so fun to write! but here she is! the final part of the Casual mini series! it was fun getting to know this Reader as she introduced herself to me and gosh, i think this part was one of the fluffiest things i've ever written and i'm here for it!
as always, likes and comments are appreciated! xo, brooke <3
ps can i just say how much i love the gif up top? he just looks so cute and happy! i have heart eyes looking at him!
taglists:
general: @reidmarieprentiss
casual: @princess-ofthe-pages @spicyspirit @misserabella @lillianacristina @lullvu @theylovemelody
Spencer: @i-live-in-spite
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mint-8 · 3 months ago
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Platonic Yandere Socialite x GN! Reader
- Yandere Socialite, who comes from an affluent family of successful business owners and who has a lot of stress and expectations for them to uphold their family's name, so they usually play golf as an entertaining way to blow off steam and network with their fellow golfers. It's not like this was their only option, but the scarce free time their parents ever have to hang out with them is usually spent on golfing sessions, so it's worth it.
- Yandere Socialite, who notices your family as the new members of the club. They recognize your parent as a tech entrepreneur whose business has become incredibly profitable and has catapulted your family into 'new money'. You guys are painfully obvious as well, wearing tacky, expensive clothing, and way too much jewelry for the sport, but Yandere Socialite can't help but be interested in you for some reason. So they approach you and your family for an invitation to a game.
- Yandere Socialite, who is pleasantly surprised as to how nice, polite, and sweet all your family members are, including you! Your family was so overwhelmed with their newly acquired wealth that they weren't completely sure what to do with their insurmountable wealth. It reminds Yandere Golfer of a family of baby fawns being so curious yet afraid of the world around them. But Yandere Socialite enjoys the company of all of you very much, so they make sure to invite all of you to a brunch tomorrow, as well as giving all of you some tips as to how dress better.
- Yandere Socialite, who becomes your family unofficial guide to high society, advising your family on what other families to socialize with, what brands and trends are popular in the main cliques, mannerisms, and etiquette to impress the 'old money' folk and many more tips! Yandere Socialite only asks (more like demands) your companionship and friendship in this hell hole that is high society.
- Yandere Socialite loves to drag you to trips to extravagant countries, going on shopping sprees where you pretty much become their confused yet flattered little doll to accessorize and pamper, attend high class events, and shows, and become their designated partner in any formal or informal setting! They get along well with your family as well! All of you have an innocent aura that fills them with such warmth that they wish to never let any of you go but have a stronger bias with you.
"Remember that after we finish with these clothes, we have the waterpolo event to attend to. I think it was some for some sort of charity or something?"
"I'm kind of tired... Can't we skip it?"
"Oh goodness, no! If you want, we can go to a coffee break. There's a cute organic cafe near the club!"
"All right..."
"You know what? Maybe we should invite your parents as well! I think there will be some important people there, so your parents can go and network!"
"Great..."
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steveharringtonat3am · 9 months ago
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Imagine drummer!steve teaching you to play the drums?? He has you sit in his lap and guides your hands and totally does not get hard from feeling you shift around! He’s such a sweetie you know he gets excited whenever something you do sounds good!
allusions to smut at the end!
kinda a part two to this fic but this can be read on its' own!
You aren’t quite sure what Steve and you are. You’re pretty sure you’re not dating but you’re also pretty sure neither of you are interested in anyone else. The two of you have been having lots of fun, both in and outside the bedroom.
After your hookup, you honestly expected to never hear from Steve again. Sure, you had a mutual friend but he just seemed to be more of a one night stand kind of guy. He had mentioned a proper date but the more you thought about it, the more it seemed to be a formality offer. Something you say after fucking someone in a bar bathroom so they don’t feel cheap.
Of course, that wasn’t a very comforting thought.
But luckily for you, he did end up calling. He got your number from Robin, who was now filled in on what happened and consequently rewarded with copious amounts of candy in exchange for minimal teasing.
The proper date hadn’t happened just yet but you’d been having your fair share of fun.
‘You busy?’ Your screen lights up with the text. His name is saved as ‘Steve🥁’ which he had insisted upon when you added his contact to your phone.
It’s around 4 in the afternoon on a Saturday which isn’t an unusual time to receive a text from Steve but they’re not usually this vague.
‘Not at all. Why?’ You can already sense the invite, pulling yourself off the couch and heading to your room.
‘Wanna see you. Meet me at the bar? The door’s unlocked for you’. This is what catches your attention. You know that bars’ hours pretty well by now, having gone a few times to see Steve play but you’ve never gone at this time because it’s never been open this early. You know he’s not talking about a hookup since those always occur either in his apartment or yours.
You hop in the shower to wash the morning off, keeping your hair dry since you don’t need to wash it. You dress casual-ish, still unsure of the vibe but you can’t go wrong with jeans and a t-shirt. Doing a quick makeup routine, you throw on your shoes and drive over to the bar.
Sure enough, the door is unlocked. It’s completely empty, lights illuminating areas you’d never noticed.
“Hey!” Steve appears from backstage. He’s wearing a tight black t-shirt and sweatpants that you have to tear your eyes away from.
“Hi! You wanna tell me what we’re doing here?”
“Sure. You know how you told me you always wanted to learn how to play the drums? Ta-da” He gestures to the drum set next to him.
“…That was more of a compliment on how you play the drums because I wanted more kisses. Not a real want.” His grin doesn’t waver as he gestures you over.
“It’ll be fun, I promise.” Your feet carry you over as the nerves sink in. What if you’re horrible and he decides you aren’t a good match? You hadn’t admitted it yet but you did really like him and you didn’t want to lose him so soon.
“I’m gonna suck you know that right?”
“You can’t suck because I’m the one teaching you and I don’t suck.” He sits infront of the drums and tugs you into his lap.
“Now I get why you wanted to teach me.” You grin as you adjust yourself on his lap. His grip on your hips tighten and you suddenly remember being in a very similar position a few days ago.
“Behave.” He mumbles into your ear, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder when you stop moving.
He passes you the sticks, covering your hands with his to show you the proper grip. You try your hardest to listen but he’s quite distracting.
“How about I show you some simple stuff and you try to replicate it, yeah?” You nod in response. Steves hands cover yours as he starts a slow beat. It sounds just barely familiar, like something you’ve heard him practice.
He pauses after a minute, letting go of your hands. You have to bite back a complaint as you attempt to recreate what he did. It’s kind of like those memory games you used to play as a kid.
“You got it!” He kisses your cheek, arms wrapped around your waist. It’s such a sweet hug that you just melt into it. You turn in his lap, legs swinging over to straddle him.
“Thank you for teaching me.” You mumble, kissing him softly.
“Isn’t that what boyfriends are for?” The word is dropped so casually you almost don’t register it.
“You’re my boyfriend?”
“…Shit did I forget to ask? Oh I knew this would happen.” He smiles sheepishly at your shocked expression.
“You forgot?” You ask incredulously.
“I was going to ask you that day we went to the farmers market I swear!” He can’t contain his laughter, hiding his face in your shoulder.
“Well, I would love to be your girlfriend.” You tug his face up, kissing him gently.
“Great!! Now let’s go to the dressing rooms!” He stands up, arms tight around you so you don’t fall as you’re forced to stand as well. He barely bothers to grab his stuff as he tugs you backstage.
”Why?” You hurry behind him, his urgency practically carrying you.
”You’re gonna sit on my lap again. But this time we won’t be wearing clothes.”
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biibini · 11 months ago
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okay so not many people explore this often but i think so hard about the softer side of mizu like when she was married to m*kio (🤢). Yes, we get a lot of the butch lesbian mizu content where shes the tough gf and all, but what about with a gf just calling mizu pretty!!! calling her beautiful and holding her face!!! telling her that shes the most gorgeous woman!!! MIZU DESERVES SOME SOFT COMPLIMENTS TOO ABOUT HER BEAUTY BC SHE IS GORGEOUS ! ! ! 😭❤️
fluff modern!mizu x reader headcannons
tags: fluff, mizu x reader, modern au, cute moments, pretty mizu, compliments, kissing, kisses on the cheek, gifting, flower bouquets, safe relationship, mizu deserves this :(
a/n: FUCK M*K*O !! she is my gorgeous beautiful girl!! ok school isn’t that bad but i do have a weekend trip so i'll be lowk MIA :(
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modern!mizu tries to put up a tough front
but with you, the barrier breaks down and she feels comfortable exploring new aspects of herself
she's never felt that kind of safety
she barely felt it with m*k*o after learning his true nature
as time passes by with u, she begins to bring her guard down
compliment modern!mizu and she immediately doesn't know what to do or what to believe
earlier on in ur relationship, u helped her get dressed for a sports-day after party held by the school
in celebration of a well balanced and eventful day, there was a formal event for athletes and their plus ones
and mizu didn't know how to present herself
yeah she had the clothes
but she had trouble styling it
u came over to fix her clothes in ur beautiful blue dress that totally didn't compliment her eyes
mizu showered u with compliments, saying how her "pretty girl was so dressed up beautifully"
or calling u a "beautiful sight"
without thinking, u called her "my beautiful girl" as u fixed her hair
she immediately went quiet
"Mizu?", you questioned. She had gone silent after your compliment. "Did I say something wrong? I'm so sorry, I'll just-"
You look up to find her, her mouth agape. Not out of disgust. Instead, Mizu whiplashed by your words, her face flaring red. Only three words and she's suddenly out of commission.
yeah, mizu would def short circuit
and she did for a brief moment
until she snapped and kissed u
and totally not ruin ur makeup
modern!mizu loves it when u cup her face while y'all kissing or make out
mizu mainly is the one talking and touching during heated moments but even the soft feeling of her significant other’s touch makes her stomach fill with butterflies
or if ur just chilling in bed and u start tracing her face
externally, she’s relaxing
internally, she’s mesmerized by ur touch
when u trace around her eyes and lips and play w her hair, she has never felt such softness and safety
or even if u cup her face to give her a kiss on the cheek before u leave for work or class
it makes her feel secure and happy
modern!mizu loves being called pretty
she still likes dressing more masc but that doesnt mean she isnt pretty
especially if u compliment her eyes
or her strangely healthy hair
the fact that its long and still shiny
sometimes u pray u had her hair genes bc wtf this isnt fair
“Your hair is so pretty, it’s not fair.”, you say as you play with Mizu’s hair. It was late at night and while she was busy figuring out calculations for a project, you were busy relaxing.
She hummed in acknowledgement. With her back still turned, you ran your hair through her scalp, feeling the silky texture of her raven hair.
Normally, Mizu would just tie her hair up to focus late at night. Tonight would be a little different since you were still up.
As your hands sectioned continued to run through her hair, Mizu relaxed. In a calm state, she solved the equations with ease, listening to the faint lofi studying music guide her thoughts into the night.
Time passed yet Mizu never felt it until she realized your hands had slowed down. She turned back to see you, eyes heavy and ready to doze off.
She looked back at her nearly completed homework. One problem couldn’t hurt in the morning.
Mizu shut off the desk lamp and silently collected her things in a neat pile. She rests your head on your pillows and pull the covers on top of you. With one foot into dreamland, Mizu gives you a kiss on your forehead.
modern!mizu’s favorite places to get kissed are her cheeks
she loves any kisses from u tbh
whenever u would give a goodbye kiss, she always forgets ab the “final” kiss
it’s so simple yet so endearing
when u guys first started dating, u were a little hesitant on ending the first few dates with a kiss
so u choose a simple peck on her cheek instead
u could see blush form on her cheeks afterwards
and they still flush to this day
after mizu went back to her place after the date, she would not stop smiling
it lowkey threw off ringo for a while
modern!mizu enjoys fresh flowers
it seems small but it’s a pretty reminder of ur love
she never got flowers as a gift in her previous relationship so she wasn’t use to these gifts
(yeah fuck u m*k*o)
it makes her heart warm every time she sees the vase on her desk
preferably, she likes peonies bc of how fluffy and full they bloom
but if u bring a new bouquet, she’ll gladly clean and take care of it
u insist that u will do it
but once u saw her carefully pluck and cut the bouquet, u let mizu have her way
she just looks so joyful getting new flowers to take care of
when the flowers start to fully bloom, mizu likes to check and make sure they have enough water
basically she gives them the love and care they need
(im crying sobbing while writing this)
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ssweetleaf · 10 months ago
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million dollar man.
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summary: you’re sick of seeing people talk down to robert, so you show him just how much you respect him.
robert fischer x afab!reader
includes: SMUT, rob’s asshole dad, kinda subby!daddy rob though there’s no daddy kink in this one, oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v, cream pie, breeding kink, semi-public sex, a really terrible ending because that’s all i’m good at
“You ready, honey?”
The foyer sparkled around you, big marble pillars and stupidly shiny chandeliers all gleamed at you, causing your eyes to squint and your mouth to open in awe.
Everywhere you looked there were people, all dressed up in their formal attire— cinched waists and satin gloves paired with crisp waistcoats and bow ties, old money, new money, it didn’t matter, as long as they had a good seven digits within their net worth they’d be considered a part of the festivities.
And that’s where you realised you didn’t quite belong in that room, with those people.
“Honey? You listenin’?”
You shook the fog from your brain, eyes flitting to him. Robert. Your Robbie, handsome as ever in his suit, tailored to fit him just right, his tie matching the dark wine colour that was your dress. The dress he had got you and left on your duvet as a surprise. You couldn’t begin to imagine how much it had cost him.
You smiled up at him, small and not quite reaching your eyes.
“Sorry, Robbie,” your eyes fluttered to the floor, “just nervous is all.”
He stepped closer to you, big palms raising to cradle your cheeks, squishing them slightly and running his thumbs along the soft skin.
“You look beautiful, baby,” he said, full of sincerity, his eyes so blue and glistening. “S’no need to be nervous, sweet girl.”
You nodded, all bashful now, leaning into his kiss when he pressed a chaste one to your lips.
Robert hooked his arm out for you to take, leading you inside the ballroom with high ceilings and waiters that held trays full of champagne. You took a mental note to snag one of those flutes whenever you had the chance, you needed a bit of liquid courage.
Being Robert Fischer’s arm candy meant staying at his side at all times, with an arm hooked round your waist or a palm to the small of your back, any little touch to tell anyone that ogled— you were his.
His girl.
“Robert, you’re late—” standing straight and proper was his father, peering at him in a look much akin to distaste, not bothering to give you so much as a glance.
You saw Rob’s jaw tick.
“I’d like you to meet Thomas, he’s shown to be quite useful in the business, I’m sure you could learn a thing or two…”
Straight to business. Straight to the insults. The same old same old, shaking hands and discussing terms and money that you hadn’t a clue about— Robert’s teeth were gritted, hand gripping your hip to sate and ground him.
“Lovely to see you as always, father,” he spoke, sarcasm swirling on his tongue, blue eyes swarming and darkening at the mere sight of his own flesh and blood.
The conversation went on for a while before Thomas piped up, gaze settling on your figure, roaming and ogling, staring for far too long at your tits.
“And who’s this?” He asked, eyes never leaving yours. You felt uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly and hugging yourself closer to Robert.
Rob’s brows furrowed, a possessive arm tightening around you further.
“This is my girl-” he looked down at you, fondness and so much adoration swirling in his irises, mouth quirking in a smile when you settled your own gaze upon his.
“It’s about time you settled down,” his father spoke out before Rob had time to utter your name, “but believe me, doll, run while you still can.”
You frowned.
“He’s useless, I tell you. Absolutely useless—”
“I think that’s quite enough.” You took hold of your lover’s hand, tugging him along, “if you’ll excuse us.”
Robert followed along like a lost puppy, letting you tug on his hand and guide him to the nearest available bathroom.
The sparkly green tile gleamed at you as soon as you walked through the door, pushing him through and clicking the lock shut.
“What’re you doing, honey,” he stuttered, swallowing thickly when you pushed him up against the counter, smoothing your palms along his lapels and down his chest.
“No one gets to speak to you like that.” You muttered, frowning, and he smoothed at the furrow between your brows with the pad of his thumb, smiling slightly.
“S’alright, baby,” he began, cutting himself off when he saw you shaking your head.
“No, it isn’t,” you spoke, firm and to the point, hands moving to cradle his jaw and cheeks, skin smooth and shaven, so pretty to look at. “do you hear me?”
He chuckled, pressing his hands to your hips, swaying you gently, attempting to soothe you.
“I hear ya, sweetheart—”
“Robert, I mean it.” You swiped at the skin underneath his eyes, palming his delicate skin and marvelling at how pretty he was. Oh, how vulnerable he could be when he was with you.
You stared at each other for a while, eyes flitting over every blemish and dimple, savouring the sight as if the world was coming to an end, shifting to a close.
You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, a chaste one, so soft it was barely there, leaning in close, your lashes fluttering against his cheek bone.
“Let me show you.” You muttered, pressing another kiss, a firmer one, to his lips now, then another, far more desperate. “Let me show you, Robbie.”
“Honey,” his chuckle was nervous, voice cracking and eyelids fluttering closed when your mouth mapped along the sharp line of his jaw. “honey, not here— n-not now.”
You pulled back, an over-exaggerated pout playing upon your lips before you leaned in, mouth pressed to his ear, tongue flicking against the shell when you uttered into it.
“Please, sir.”
He whimpered, broken and whiny, and you could feel him against your belly, already hard and throbbing when your breath fanned along his neck.
“Okay,” he sighed, almost dreamily, bucking his hips against you and holding onto you tight. “Alright, darling, you know I’ll do anything for you.”
He was breathless, seeing stars, sucking his lip between his teeth when you lowered yourself to kneel in front of him, hands smoothing along his thighs, the expensive material of his Italian suit glided along your palms, smooth and elegant before you found what you were looking for.
A bulge tightened his trousers, stretching the fabric, barely being able to contain the sheer size of his big cock, you were sure if you left him any longer a wet spot would form.
“Please, sweetheart,” he was the one saying please now, petting at your hair and smoothing down the tresses, chest heaving at your kneeling form, looking all pliant though he knew you were the one in charge.
You pulled at his belt, tugging it through the buckle, the leather squeaking when you grew impatient with it, wanting it off. Then you unbuttoned him, drawing down his fly, pushing them down along with the tight constriction of his boxer briefs, letting them pool at his ankles.
His cock sprang free, slapping against his stomach, a long pearlescent string of pre-cum sticking to his skin, mouth-wateringly so.
“So pretty,” you cooed, reaching up to take him in your hand, girthy and long, everything you’d ever need, your fingers barely being able to touch from the thickness. “Can’t believe you’re mine.”
“All yours, darling—” he whined, breathy and muscles tensing. “all for you.”
You hummed, leaning forward to kiss at his tip, stroking him with your fist, slow and sensual, grinning as his breath picked up.
You licked along the length of him, along that thick vein that throbbed hotly, sucking his balls into your mouth one after the other, leaving the stain of your lipstick along his flesh, before taking his cock down your throat, hearing him moan and whimper at the suddenness of it all.
“Oh, that’s it,” he whined, thumb smoothing along your cheek, “good girl, s-such a good, sweet girl.”
You hummed around him, swirling your tongue around him and trying to take him as deep as your throat would let you, gagging around his cock, tears slipping from your heaves.
Robert felt his chest swell, the sight before him so pretty, suckling at his cock, your tears glistening from the light of the bathroom’s chandelier, so lucky he could call you his. His girl.
The ring box in his suit pocket felt heavy when he stared at you.
You took him further down your throat, salty tears slipping down your cheeks, leaving your eyes all sparkly and glistening, gagging around his cock every now and again, the sharp tug that Robert inflicted upon your tresses a big indicator that he greatly enjoyed the constriction of your tight, warm little throat.
“Yes, that’s it, my sweet girl,” he whimpered, hips mindlessly bucking with each downward thrust of your mouth. “So good to me, take care of me so well.”
Hell, if anyone decided to walk past the door to the bathroom they were situated in, they’d get an earful— the crude sound of sloppy sucking and his airy whimpers resonated around the echoey room. Someone was bound to listen in.
You had half a hope that Thomas was outside the door, listening to the sheer pleasure you inflicted on your boy.
“Baby,” he stuttered, whining and pawing at your hair and cheeks, desperate and leaking onto your tongue. “Can I cum? Oh, please, darling, let me cum.”
You took your mouth off him, letting your hand take over, slowly stroking him into your fist, thumb flicking over his head, so sensitive, you thought.
You pouted up at him, somewhat mockingly.
“Don’t you wanna cum inside me, Robbie?” You stared at him, whatching him heave and buck, cheeks all flushed and forehead sweaty, such a pretty, pathetic sight. “Was looking forward to it all night.”
You continued your pouting, adding a little whine to your speech, watching him nod exuberantly and stroking your cheek with his shuddering palm.
“O-of course, baby— wanna cum inside you, just wanna please you.”
You smiled, pressed one last kiss to the flushed head of his tip before standing, moving to lean over the counter, back arched and ass in the air, swaying at him teasingly.
His palms smoothed over your backside, ruching the skirt of your dress to reveal your pretty panties, a pretty shade of pink, a wet spot saturating the fabric that covered your cunt.
He groaned, grabbing a handful of your hips, kneading the flesh between his fingers. He gazed at your reflection in the mirror, taking his bottom lip between his teeth when he saw your pretty tits spilling out of your bodice.
“What’re you waiting for, Robbie? Haven’t I been a good girl?”
He nodded, still so red in the face, leaning over you to press his face in the crook of your neck, kissing your skin; a form of an apology.
“Yes, dear, you’ve been such a good girl. Always deserve my cock, always.” He hummed, pulling back to tuck his fingers into the elastic of your underwear, pulling them to the side and exposing your glistening pussy, juices dripping down your thighs and clit throbbing hotly.
Rob huffed out a breath, cock jumping at the sight before him, before gripping himself at the base, gliding it along your slit and bumping the tip against your clit, tapping it lightly before repeating the process.
“Hurry,” you whined, pressing yourself closer against him, wiggling your hips, the movement causing the ridge of his cock to slip inside your hole.
He pushed all the way to the base, panting like a dog and gripping at your skin, etching finger-shaped bruises into your flesh.
“Feel so perfect.” He whimpered, feeling you clench, trying to adjust to his size, the thickness of his cock stretching you out impossibly— you felt as if he was in your throat.
It wasn’t long before you gave him the go ahead to move, the subtle sting of his size still apparent, though the jolts of pleasure completely overshadowed the discomfort.
You were squealing into your arm, moaning like a porn star with every thrust, squeezing him and hitting your ass back in time with the buck of his hips.
“S-so wet, baby, so fuckin’ pretty, creamin’ all over my cock, aren’t you?” You nodded, yesyesyes, so obscene, you began to cry, heavy sobs heaving from your lips at the sheer pleasure of it all.
“Y’the only one that can make me feel this good, Robbie,” you moaned, blindly reaching back to find one of hands, clutching onto it and weaving your fingers between his. “M’all yours, Sir.”
His voice cracked when he whined out, squeezing his eyes shut smoothing a hand over the fat of your ass cheeks.
“Shit,” he hissed through clenched teeth, “baby, m’gonna cum already— m’sorry, sweet girl, just gotta fill you up.”
“Oh, please,” you begged, clenching and quivering around him, feeling the thick veins and ridges that ran along his length thrusting in and out, in and out. “Need it, want you to put a baby inside me, you’d make such a good daddy, Robert.”
His brain short-circuited at your crude words, hips stuttering and eyes going all starry and glossy as he came. Quick ropes of cum painted your walls, sticky and thick, and even with how sensitive his cock felt he continued to fuck his seed into your spasming pussy, your own orgasm washing over you with his filthy sounds.
Not a drop of cum was left to waste, all of it pushed deep inside, and once he was far too overstimulated to be inside you any longer, he stuffed his fingers inside you, plugging you with the Fischer prodigy and hoping with flushed cheeks and a beating heart it’d take.
All he wanted was to see you all round and full with his children. And soon the ring he had bought would be situated pride and place on your ring finger.
Soon.
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mrs-elsie-barnes · 6 months ago
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Appreciate You | Bucky Barnes x Reader | Mutually Beneficial AU | Drabble
Bucky returns home from a mission and you're desperate to show him how much you appreciate everything he does. But all he wants to do is take care of you.
Warnings: 18+ sexual content, d/s relationship (dom!Bucky & Sub!Reader), thigh riding, handjob, dirty talk. little s for a little bit of smut, F for fluffy.
Dividers by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Mutually Beneficial Masterlist
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"Babydoll, let me take care of you, I missed you." Bucky removed your hands off the coffee pot and started moving you to the sofa. "No one fuckin' listens to me like you do, not going another mission without my best agent." He'd rushed straight from the Quinjet, still dressed to the nines in his suit, tie slightly undone and a smallest splash of blood on his cuff.
You chuckled, "I should hope no one listens to you quite like I do," you winked, kissing his cheek and squeezing his forearms.
"That's true," he kissed you back, the taste of him was wonderful and familiar, a balm for the anxiety you'd been feeling, god - you'd missed him so much. "But it is nice to come back to you. Look at you, all cute and snuggly from bed at 4am, just for me. Let me at least get my little Babydoll a coffee." He rubbed his nose against yours, running his hands over your shoulders and down your back, drawing you closer.
You let him guide you to the sofa, but when he tried to get you to sit you shifted, making him fall over you. His dog tag dangled infront of your face mirroring the little silver necklace at your throat with the matching tag, and you shivered at the view. His dishevelled hair and smart suit, the hint of the man underneath now so enticingly close.
"But, Sarge, you've been away and busy, saving the world," and maybe you exaggerated, giving him a little pout, but only because you knew he needed the praise as much as you did, the reassurance that he really was doing something important now. "I wanted to welcome you home, make you feel good." You ran your palm down his chest towards the growing bulge in his formal trousers and squeezed, not noticing his quiet gasp, drowned out by your own moan at the hard feeling of him under your grasp.
You had woken up to see the Quinjet land on the pad in the compound, desperate to welcome your Sergeant back home and had been feeling wet and needy since. In a hurry to meet him you'd thrown on one of his shirts and a pair of shorts, switched the already prepped coffee pot on and run bare foot through the compound to meet him.
You'd thrown yourself into his arms and let him carry you back to your rooms, but now he was being difficult, resisting you attention when all you wanted to do was serve him and make him feel good.
"God, Baby, the things you do to me," his lips, hips, whole body pressing you into the sofa, the smell of his sweat and his cologne surrounding you. He was so impossibly hard already, the length of him grinding against your core.
"Just wanna appreciate you, Sergeant Barnes," you cooed into his ear, kissing at the little spot that made him growl and paw at you. He was cracking a little, letting you grind up against him, " please - sir," you whispered coyly.
"You're very naughty, you know," he groaned in return, low and dark in your ear, "but - fine, I give up. Get me a coffee, Babydoll and then we'll see," he slapped your ass lightly as you stood, his shirt riding up over your hips as you skipped over to the kitchen, much too awake for this early.
You returned with a huge mug of pitch black coffee full of sugar. Bucky used his left hand to take it, the mug itself hot, prewarmed under the tap just how he liked it.
"Where's yours, Babydoll?" He picked his head up from the back of the sofa, watching you slink back slowly, dropping to your knees and running your hands over his thighs.
"I want something else, Sarge," you looked up at him through your lashes, "I think you want it too? Let me take care of you. Drink your coffee, I'll make you feel good and then I'll run you a nice -" you placed a kiss to his clothed thigh, "hot," kiss, "bath," you kissed the inside of his thighs, feeling the rough scratch of his suit and the tight muscle underneath, getting higher and higher until you could mouth over his throbbing cock, held back only by a zipper and straining button.
"Come up here, Babydoll, sit on my knee so I can kiss you," Bucky unzipped his trousers revealing the aching tip of his cock, his hand took yours, sliding through the slick together as you gave him a few tight pumps. He let his head fall back, giving you the space you craved to kiss and bite along the exposed skin, his scruff against your cheek and his heartbeat wild under your lips had you rubbing against it.
"That's it, Baby," he soothed into your ear, one hand on your hip, encouraging you to rub your arousal over his leg, "you make your Sergeant cum like a good girl and then what I want, what I really want, is to take you to our room," he kissed your cheek, humming against your warm skin, "I'm going to take you to our room and watch you fall apart on my cock," his words had you squirming on him, his hands holding you still, one on your hip, the other over yours as he released over your clenched fingers.
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jasminewilson143 · 2 months ago
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Formal Wear for Men: A Complete Guide
Formal wear for men is a timeless and essential part of any well-dressed wardrobe. Whether you’re attending a special occasion, a business meeting, or a formal event, dressing appropriately can make a significant impact on your appearance and confidence. In this comprehensive guide, we’ll explore the key elements of formal wear for men, provide valuable tips for selecting the right outfits, and…
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rinrinx2 · 5 months ago
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Let’s Pretend
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Toji x Y/N
Summary: Toji needs a fake wife for a mission who better than you.
Warnings: Smut, inappropriate language, talks you through it, mentions of d£ath.
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Toji looked at Shui unsure of what his exact reaction should be to the mission he had offered him to complete.
The money he would obtain would be enough to sustain him for the next few months, to allow him to live a soft comfortable life until he would need the next mission to fill his pockets.
“You need to pretend to be a married couple”
He couldn’t deny the money aspect of this mission Shui proposed, the only condition he was unsure about was the requirements this mission had.
Toji was letting Shui’s words hang in the air so that Shui would be able to hear how stupid it sounded.
“Don’t give me that look Toji” Shui said as he pulled out his cigarette cartridge, knocking out one as he placed the stick between his lips.
“I will obviously provide you with the necessary partner to play the role of your wife” He said lighting the cigarette, taking a deep inhale.
“Is it really necessary for me to act like a couple, can’t I just complete this mission alone” Toji said slighted agitated.
“No the client detailed that you need to play the role of a married couple in order to complete the mission, besides think of it as someone who can take half the burden of the mission” Shui said blowing out smoke.
Toji has that look of clear irritation painted on his face, the raised brow, his eyes slightly raised, his top lip twisted into a snarl and his body slightly hunched.
Toji was as lazily as they came but as much as he was lazy he hated any assistance that might be given for a mission. There was a certain way he conducted his missions and having another person would only ruin the system he had perfected.
Shui let out a chuckle taking in Toji’s expression. He had worked long enough with the assassin to know what he was already thinking. But before Toji could protest any further Shui spoke out again.
“You’ll meet her at the necessary location of the mission”
“How will I know it’s her” Toji said eyeing the smoking man.
“You’ll know and Toji formal” Shui said as he dropped the half smoked cigarette as he put it out with his expensive shoes.
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Toji sipped at his whiskey leaning against the bar he stood at.
God, I hate this monkey suit
Toji thought slightly flexing against the restraing of the cheap polyester suit he had scrummaged out from some forgotten nook of his wardrobe.
Toji continued to sip at the whiskey, watching as the minutes ticked by on his watch, every minute feeling longer than the last as he waited for his so called partner/ fake wife for the evening.
If she doesn’t pitch soon I’m just gonna kill the fucker needed and head home
So entrapped in his thoughts he hadn’t felt the presences of someone standing beside him. A red flag in itself as if someone was skilled enough to get by him undetected a clear indicator of his partner.
“So, you usually stand here looking obvious?” the voice beside him spoke in a sarcastic tone.
“Do you always take this long to show up to places?” Toji replied back in an even more sarcastic tone as he slightly looked over at the woman who would be his partner for the evening.
From the brief look he took at you, he was impressed. From the black dress highlighting your figure, with curves in all the right places, healthy looking hair, a face that belonged on a screen and an ass that was just begging to get smacked.
“Maybe I should thank Shui” Toji whispered under his breath to himself.
“What was that?” You say turning your head slightly to Toji.
“Oh nothing …. But honey we should get a move on” Toji said putting on the act of your fake husband as his hand went to the small of your back, placing his empty class on the table as he guided you away from the bar.
Toji guided you to the lobby of the busy hotel, as the two of you made your way to the front desk. You remained calm and natural, with a soft smile on your face as you placed your hand on Toji’s chest, as the diamond on your ring finger shown brightly in the warm lighting of the lobby.
“Good evening, we have a booking for the Fushiguro’s”
“Good evening” The front desk man said with a vibrant smile that highlighted his smile lines.
“Ah yes, we have one. For a newly wed couple. I would like to thank you on behalf of our establishment for having your honeymoon here” the middle aged front desk man said with that smile not leaving his face.
“Thank you” Toji said as he took the key from the man’s hand.
“Please be sure to use all our hotel has to offer”
“Don’t worry I’ll make sure to use everything thoroughly” Toji said with a smirk as he eyed you up and down.
The middle aged man kept the smile on his face, trying his best to not react to Toji’s innuendo as you slightly slapped his chest in a playful manner trying to make it seem as Toji and you were simply just a couple in love not to assassins sent out here to murder someone in this lovely hotel.
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“Well this is urhm definitely a lovers suite” you announced as you opened the door of your hotel room to reveal a rather interesting room set up.
A massive bed, with a rather larger oak head board that had an interest pattern of diamond shapes carved into it, with coincidentally silk rope decorating the diamond shaped holes. In the corner of the room was a rather large chair that could easily, comfortably seat two people , with one person that could be seated atop of the other.
You look around the room some more, as you felt Toji push into the room beside you.
“Get over it doll face, we got the baby making room. Relax” he said placing the suitcases onto the floor beside the bed.
“Not like you’re gonna make one in here” he said rolling his eyes slightly.
You walked into the room slightly irritated at his comment as you watched him unpack the suitcase that held various guns.
“So, when are we going to take the target out?” You asked approaching Toji.
“Tomorrow at breakfast. His some fat guy, bald head. His apparently dealing in curse objects he stole from some cult he pretended to be in. So, we have to take him out get the objects and that’s that” Toji said as the finished his sentence off rather nonchalantly.
You looked at him with a raise brow, slightly impressed as to how easy he made the mission sound like.
“So, you know why we have to pretend to be a fake couple?” You asked further a slight smile of amusement on your lips as you sat on the bed in front of Toji.
“Nope”
“Well we have to act like a couple because baldy knows you’re single, so Shui suggested we pretend to be a couple on our honeymoon to throw him off it could make it easier for us to get closer to him” you replied with a smirk as the tip of your black heel was now underneath Toji’s chin, causing his gaze to meet yours.
“Well pop the champagne, Shui’s a smart man for a change” Toji replied as he gripped your foot away from under his chin.
“You’re a real fun guy” you said with sarcasm in your voice.
“Sugar tits, as much as I find you attractive and would easily screw you; we have a mission to complete and that’s the goal” Toji said as he starred down at the suitcase placing one gun on the night stand.
You looked at Toji with a smile of impressiveness, you had heard all sorts of stories and rumours about the handsome assassin in front of you ranging from unethical and impractical and yet here he was holding restraint from taking you.
“Come on we need to go to dinner, if we can fool everyone into thinking we’re married it will be easier to take the fat bastard out tomorrow at breakfast, he won’t be suspecting a thing”
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“Is there anything else I can get you, sir?” The waitress asked as she eyes Toji up and down with a smile pressed onto her red lips.
“Nothing at all, but please be sure to ask my wife” he replied not giving much mind to the young woman serving use.
You had to admit Toji was really playing the role of the loyal doting husband. The way he held your hand over the table in view of everyone, to how he attempted to share his food with you.
“I’m fine. Thank you” you replied looking up at the waitress, as you watched her walk away with that smile not budging.
“How many times is that waitress going to come and ask you if you need a refill” You said rolling your eyes slightly.
“You sure are a possessive wife” Toji teased as he bit down on the pasta he was eating at.
“I get it you’re handsome but handsome enough to get this woman come up to us every five minutes to ask to top up your wine you haven’t even touched”
You would’ve continued your rant till a familiar man came up to you and your husband.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but your wife is extremely beautiful. I think I might of seen her on the cover of a magazine”
Fat bald bastard
The lights in Toji’s head shone bright as the target they had to kill was right in front of him.
“Thank you, her beauty is really one of the reasons I married her” Toji replied trying to remain cool and collected as to not suspect the target.
“Well, then on that note I hope you don’t mind if I bought your beautiful wife a drink”
“I’d love that but she only really like to drink in private” Toji replied not wanting you to drink whatever liquid the man would give you unsure if it was laced in case he recognised the two of you.
“Ah please, everytime I see a beautiful woman I have to buy her a drink. Well if you don’t want me to buy her a drink why don’t I send a bottle of champagne to your room” the fat man said with a wide smile as his red cheeks shone like polished balls.
“Sure. We’re room 17 F”
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“Why didn’t you just kill the guy when he came to our table?” You asked as you rubbed your lotion into your legs.
“So, the whole restaurant can go into a frenzy and the guys at his table shoot you dead on the floor. No thank. We have to be subtle” Toji replied as he got underneath the sheets.
“Aren’t you thoughtful” you said, as you were about to climb into bed yourself until you realised what you were doing as you starred at Toji.
“What” Toji replied as he felt your eyes on him, unsure of what stopped you from getting into bed until he realised.
“God just get into bed, I’m not going to sleep on the floor. If I had to fork out from my money to pay for this expensive as hotel then I am getting to sleep in the bed. So you either get into bed with me princess or the floor is waiting for you”
You rolled your eyes in annoyance at his words, as you climbed into bed not wanting to have to lay on the cold floor with nothing but your silk slip dress nighty to keep you warm.
“Smart decision” Toji said as he turned his back towards you.
You laid in the dark room for a moment, unable to sleep as you tossed and turned. Your movements not going unnoticed as Toji rolled to face you now.
“I can’t sleep” you whispered to him.
“Just close your eyes”
You huffed out a sigh as you closed your eyes, but still you were unable to fall asleep.
“Still can’t sleep” Toji said with his eyes shut feeling as you were still awake.
“Why don’t we do what husband and wife do to help them go to sleep” Toji said opening his eyes, as you could sense the smirk in his face even in the dark.
“I thought you didn’t want to screw me”
“Well that was before supper, I was hangry and I mean we would only being playing the part we were given for this mission” Toji said as you felt his hand move up your thigh.
“Besides wouldn’t it be obvious that we’re not married if people didn’t hear noises from a honey moon suite”
You breathing became harder, as you listened to Toji’s words trying your best to comprehend what he was saying but the feeling of his calloused hands running up your soft thigh was turning your brain into mush by the second.
You felt as his fingers reached your pantie line, feeling as he played with the lace of the thong you wore.
“Pull them to the side” Toji whispered.
You complied easily not even protesting as your pulled the flimsy fabric away from your pussy, surprised how you were already wet from such a simple action.
“Atta girl” Toji said, as he slowly moved his fingers to your pussy, massaging your pussy lips, revelling in the puffiness of them as he felt the wetness of your slick start to drip out. Gently taking his index finger and pushing it in between your folds as he gathered your slick onto his fingers, pulling his finger out as he smeared it onto your puffy pussy lips.
“You like princess?” Toji whispered into your ear, as you wrapped your arms around his neck, breathing heavily into his chest.
“I’m gonna push my fingers in now” Toji said as he began to move his index and ring finger into your warmth. Pushing the digits in and out of you, feeling the tight wetness around them.
“Enjoy the feeling baby” Toji said in the sweet seductive voice as his other hand came down to the small of your back pressing your closer to him, as he felt your move against him in pleasure.
Toji began to move his fingers faster, feeling as your pussy allowed him to push his fingers deeper in. And they nudged perfectly against that bundle of nerves, Toji chuckling softly as he watched your move around as you writhed with pleasure.
“Found that spot” Toji began to massage that sensitive spot that had you seeing stars. Toji could feel you get close as he felt your pussy get tighter and tighter by the second.
So close to your high, but before you could fall over the edge you felt as he pulled his fingers out. You pulled away from his chest looking up into his eyes as he brought his soaked fingers to his lips as he licked your wetness off of them.
“Delicious”
As the words left Tojis lips he began to kiss you passionately, his tongue lapping at yours as you tasted yourself on him.
“Take it out”
And you did as he instructed, pulling his hard member out of his boxers.
“Take your dress off”
You quickly sat up and pulled the silky fabric off your skin.
“Lay back down and turn on your side”
You now laid on your side, feeling as Toji’s hard cock pressed against your ass, his tip slightly leaking pre-cum as his hands began to massage your breasts.
The cool air of the room and the roughness of his hands causing your nipples to be hard and your pussy to get wetter.
“You want me to fuck you?”
You nodded, desperately wanting Toji to fuck you.
“Beg for it”
You breath caught in your throat at his words, like dry and mind muddy with pleasure as you tried to form a sentence.
“Please ~ ah. Please fuck me Toji”
Toji didn’t need to hear another word as he slipped his hard member in, keeping still as he let you adjust to his members size.
You could feel his thick girth filling you up as he knocked against your cervix from his length.
“I’m gonna fuck your brains out now” Toji said as he began to move, slow and steady rhythm, as he pushed his tip slightly out before plunging deep inside you m. The loud sloshing noise of your pussy and whiny moans filling the room.
“That’s it take my cock. Feel it fucking fill you up”
Your mind a puddle of pleasure as your pussy was now being rammed by his thick cock as his hands squeezed and pulled at your breast, feeling his hot breath against your neck as he fucked you from behind.
“You like being fucked like you my wife”
Toji said biting on your ear, as he moved faster, feeling your slick drip down his thighs. Toji could tell you were getting closer by how your moans became louder and more desperate and from the way your pussy was starting to milk him.
“I’m gonna cum in you, so cum for me princess”
Toji’s hand came down to your clit, as he rubbed the swollen bud trying to get you finish on his cock faster. Rubbing the slick bud up and down.
“That’s it right there”
Toji could feel his own high reaching as his balls began to constrict and relax a clear sign his hot cum was ready to shoot out, as it moved up his shaft.
The feeling of Toji’s cock stuffing you and his fingers playing with your clit became to much as you felt your pussy tighten around his cock. Toji felt as you came hard, shoving his cock as deep as he could in you.
“Fuck yes baby”
Toji growled out as he felt himself shoot ropes of hot cum into you, feeling as he painted your insides a nice pearly white.
Suddenly without any warning your bedroom door came swinging open.
“I decided to bring your champagne myself I hope I’m not disturbing”
Without another thought Toji grabbed the gun he had left on the nightstand shooting the fat bald bastard down in one swift motion as the champagne bottle came falling down to the floor, the liquid spilling all over the carpeted floor.
You turned your head over your shoulder looking at Toji, with his cock still buried deep inside you, as you tried to catch your breath.
“So much for subtle death”
.
.
.
Hope you like it <3
All rights reserved to @rinrinx2
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affableramen · 16 hours ago
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no nut november. when they try to unnoticeably watch you undress
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ᡣ𐭩 mature themes, spicy but not smutty, pre-relationship
ᡣ𐭩 neuvillette, pantalone x fem!reader
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Neuvillette
“Here, I wholeheartedly hope you’ll find them to your liking. I’m deeply sorry the rain soaked you, you must have least expected that.”
“It’s alright, though I’m soaked to the bone, I have monsieur Neuvillette taking care of me”, you smile widely at him as he hands you the bag full of clothes. The sovereign dragon had no problem flying to the nearest mall and buying you new clothes in order to replace your soaking ones. You can’t fly, but he doesn’t want you to catch cold right in front of his eyes.
You opened the bag and took a look at the clothes. They were really fancy ones, and Neuvillette’s sharp intuition guided him into the right size.
“Wow, monsieur Neuvillette they are all my size. They should all fit.”
“I’m extremely glad in that case”, he clears his throat. “I will leave you to change. I’ll wait in the vestibule.
“Of course.”
He reached the exit and closed the door behind him but a really thin hole could give a quick peek to someone who was in the room. Neuvillette was above taking that chance and did not plan on witnessing you get rid of your soaked layers of clothes—he’s already probably seen too much, given how your white tight shirt would stick to your cleavage.
He sighed. Perhaps you already started undressing. These nasty thoughts wouldn’t come off from his head and would not leave him alone. Neuvillette entirely missed the moment when he started thinking dirty of you. All this sexual stuff was so new and unlike him. But knowing that you were soaked and changing in his office made him experience the most obscene thoughts lingering on the bottom of his mind.
“Please tell me once you’re finished”, he cleared his throat. “Unfortunately we’re so busy today I cannot give you more time than I would prefer.”
“I understand”, your voice sounds louder, you must be heading right to the door. “I finished, monsieur, and I thank you so much for getting me those.”
Once you open the door you’re met with an incredibly perplexed and almost embarrassed stare.
“Do leave me a receipt, I shall cover them all.”
“Nonsense. It was a gift.”
“I’m afraid I cannot accept gifts from my employer.”
“Please do, after all I’m partially the reason you’re caught up in the rain; had I not asked you on your day off you would not have gotten targeted by unappealing weather conditions.”
“You’re too kind to me, monsieur.”
You go back to your cubicle not realising how deeply Neuvillette experienced desire to see more of you—a single more inch of your delicate skin.
Pantalone
“Here, this should be your size. You agree how this one is less tight and more comfy than your original outfit, don’t you?” Pantalone gives you a sweet smile, his eyes shut when he does so, and his long black eyelashes stand out proudly on his face.
“This should do. If I knew we had a training today, I wouldn’t wear my formal dress at the first place.”
You take the neatly wrapped training sport suit from his indigo-gloved hands and give it a quick quality check.
“This one is really well made. I truly like it.”
“Did you doubt our private tailors?”
“Not one bit, Regrator”, you turn away from him, facing the window, your skin glowing lit and bright in the face of Pantalone’s dark figure.
“Your formal tight-fit dress deserves a reward, sweetie, but you might have difficulties fighting in it.”
“I have no problem wearing the outfit you provided me with”, you say as you start quickly changing. Regrator’s interest is picked when he hears the ruffling of clothes. His ears perk up to each sound coming from you, but he stays turned away, with his back facing you.
“I’m glad if so.”
Just when what seems to be heavy fabric sound dropping onto the floor grabbing Pantalone’s attention, he swallows a heavy feeling in his throat. He knows what part of you is presumably naked right now and fight the urge to not peek. He is a gentleman, not a dog in heat.
But when you unclasp your bra to put the sport top on, Pantalone’s head slowly turns to your side. He takes a very subtle, quick look of the curve of your shoulder and arm. Your back muscles fascinate him. Afraid that you might notice him—what are you going to think?—he immediately looks away and forces a fake polite smile as usual.
“Well, how long am I going to wait? Tick-tock, my dear.”
“Have you never undressed a woman before? Surely you know it’s difficult to be quick.”
“Oh…”
The later process is surrounded by utter silence. Upon you finishing, Pantalone who has been dying every second while you were changing, says at last:
“Not bad.”
“Think so too.” You aim to the exit, but he grabs your shoulder. You’re suddenly stopped, but he immediately softens his touch and loosens his grip, his hand rubbing your shoulder as if giving you a massage. The gesture feels somehow encouraging and intimate at the same moment.
“Be careful, alright? I fancy seeing your body back in one piece.”
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killuagirly · 4 months ago
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BALLROOM ENCOUNTERS
CHARACTERS: Ciel Phantomhive
SUMMARY: Ballrooms are meant for dancing, but a young boy attending your party doesn't seem to agree with that statement. I wonder why that is?
NOTES: I'm trying to write newer fics so I can delete my older works and redo my masterlists. It's like a complete overwrite of my blog essentially, I can't wait until it's done! It feels like my writing has gotten much better, and although they did get interaction before, I don't really want to keep old writing on my blog!! :(
CONTENT: Female Reader
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⟶ CIEL PHANTOMHIVE !
A ball, you had decided to host that night. You weren't too enthusiastic about the task of finding a suitor, but that's the weight that comes with being a lady of high status. Although you were young, prearranged marriages were common amongst aristocrats, you were no exception.
However, you drew the high end of the stick, and your parents were generous enough to allow you to attempt to find a suitor for yourself. They would have to approve of course, considering you were to be the next family heir, they wouldn't want you going off marrying someone without a well-known name. You weren't too upset about this condition anyways given that it was to be expected.
The task proved harder than you had assumed, but there was no pressure coming from any higher-ups, so you were in the clear for now. Still, it's better to start searching before your times of leisure end. The whole purpose of this ball, though not directly stated in any sent invitations, was to make the looking process a bit easier on yourself.
Interchanging melodies played in the ballroom as you chatted away with some of your guests, not finding anything that stood out to you in most. It wasn't like you were looking for a fairytale, although a girl could dream, just someone who wouldn't bore you to death. You had just finished up a conversation with a young man a bit older than you. He was polite and charming, but nothing special.
You let out a barely audible sigh once he turned and walked off in the direction of a crowd, feeling as though this mission was never-ending. You scanned slowly over the people chattering and indulging in food prepared for the party, until something caught your eye. A young boy who looked to be your age, and on the short side. He was dressed in a black and navy-blue formal suit with silver accents and held a stern expression on his face.
He must've been a wallflower, because he didn't seem to be in a hurry to engage in any conversation with other guests. A tall, elegant man stood by his side in classy servant's attire. Your curiosity was at a peak for the night, your feet guiding you effortlessly towards the pair. The young boy noticed you approaching and redirected his gaze elsewhere, most likely in an attempt to seem uninterested.
You ignored the indirectly rude gesture and sent him a smile, a sudden realization coming over you. This was the Earl Phantomhive you've heard about time and time again. You'd sent him an invitation, but you didn't actually expect him to attend. "Earl Phantomhive, so nice to meet you. I wasn't expecting you to show up," you greeted. He inaudibly sighed, his refined butler standing tall next to him edging him on.
"Yes, and you must be Lady [Surname]? It's nice to meet you as well, though I do question your low expectations of me," he spoke, although you couldn't tell whether it was sarcasm or seriousness. "Ah, I'm sorry. I just meant since you have such high status, I wouldn't have expected you to be bothered to attend a ball without business intentions." The Earl seemed bothered, as if he was internally agreeing with your statement.
The dashing butler beside him spoke up, "You see, my young master and I were notified that you were in search of a suitor. He is in a similar situation at the moment, and I do recall him speaking of you fondly," a devilish smirk played on his lips, watching his young master's face quickly become flushed, "So we decided it would be for the best to be in attendance in case you take any interest."
"I see," a smile tugged at your lips upon learning that the Earl Phantomhive had taken an interest in you, although you can't recall ever having met him before this encounter, "would you be so kind as to spare me a dance then, Earl Phantomhive?" The color seemed to drain from the boy's face as he searched for an excuse of some sort. He sighed, then slowly taking a breath, "I suppose so..." His butler chuckled, watching him take your hand and guide you into the crowd.
"You can address me as Ciel if you like," he said, not meeting your eyes. "Good to know! You can call me [Name]," you said with a smile as you moved your hands to proper position. The slow, romantic melody began playing throughout the ballroom and your feet moved in turn. Only a few steps in, you realized why Ciel had been so hesitant to dance with you. His movement lacked grace and he seemed incredibly nervous, making steps that didn't match the rhythm every now and then.
You held in a laugh and finally met his eyes, "So, Ciel, have you been caught up on your dancing lessons?" His cheeks flushed and he mumbled something that didn't catch your ears, "What was that?" you teased. "No, now will you be quiet?" he said in a tone that suggested he was less serious, and more embarrassed. You giggled and tried to help guide him further. As annoyed as he was, he did appreciate your efforts nonetheless.
Once the song concluded, his hands lingered on your form for a moment before taking a step back and kneeling to press his soft lips to your knuckles. "Thank you for the dance, my lady." He couldn't help the slight upwards curling of his lips when you smiled down at him with half lidded eyes. "My pleasure, Ciel." He stood and took your hand once again, guiding you towards where his butler took watching from afar.
"It's not very often I enjoy myself at a ball, I thank you for inviting me. Consider this a formal invitation to the Phantomhive Manor tomorrow to spend some leisure time together." He leaned closer and pressed a delicate kiss onto your cheek. Some heads turned towards you in surprise, taking in the rare scene before them. "I will gladly accept your invitation then," you responded with a giggle. He smiled and turned on his heel with his butler following behind, walking off towards the exit without another word. Maybe, you had found the fairytale you were subconsciously hoping for.
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MASTERLIST
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fictionalwh0ree · 2 years ago
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golden globes- austin butler
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gif creds to @dearaustinbutler
summary: you embarrassingly crash into your celebrity crush at the golden globes and then, by what seems like fate, get seated right next to him.
word count: 1.2k
warnings: none
pt. 2
you clutched onto your long dress, lifting it slightly as you climbed up the few stairs of the golden globes red carpet. the area was filled with people; staff and celebrities, some you knew, others, you didn’t. the clicking of the paparazzi you had just moved past on the carpet was still in earshot and the abundance of cameras everywhere was not helping your nerves. being a shy person who caught a big break and had your life flipped upside down almost overnight, you were left with no time to adjust.
one of the staff began to guide you to the two interviewers who were currently standing alone. you collected yourself and took a deep breath as you walked towards them. you noticed the woman signaling to the cameras. you smiled widely as they greeted you. once past formalities and compliments, they moved to ask you questions about the movie that had gotten you nominated for best actress in a drama motion picture.
finally, the brief interview was reaching its end and they asked their last question.
“is there any celebrity you’re hoping to meet while you’re here?” the woman asked.
“umm,” you began, giggling a little as you thought.
“maybe natasha lyonne. i love but i’m a cheerleader. it’s one of my favourites, and orange is the new black,” you continued, “and also, i feel like this is really basic, but austin butler. i mean elvis was just, incredible. i really admire his dedication to his role and just how much effort he put into making that movie.”
“i agree completely. good luck,” the man concluded.
you gave them both a short hug before walking off and waiting for another member of the staff to guide you into the actual room. you checked in and were given your table and seat number on a paper. you began to walk between the busy tables in search of your own. your head swivelled from side to side as you looked at the placeholders, when suddenly, you crashed into a tall figure in front of you. you immediately stepped back and before he could even turn around, you were apologizing, your cheeks heating up.
“i’m so sorry,” you said, wide-eyed.
“it’s all good,” the man, you now recognized as the austin butler, said.
your jaw dropped slightly as you stared. as if crashing into some stranger at your first golden globes wasn’t embarrassing enough, it just had to be him. not only did you love elvis, but you’d begun to harbour a small crush on the man. yes, you’d said you’d wanted to meet him in your interview, but did you totally mean it? no. especially not this way. you realized that you were staring when a smile began to tug at austin’s lips and he tipped his head forward slightly, waiting for you to speak again.
“i’m really really sorry,” you began.
“i was just looking for my seat and i wasn’t looking where i was going. this is my first time here, not that i didn’t make that obvious enough by crashing into you like an idiot and all,” you rambled, not able to meet his eyes.
“it’s okay, really,” he laughed, “here, let me help you find your seat.”
he moved to stand next to you as you pulled your paper out. his entire left arm was pressed against yours and he held one side of the tiny paper, you holding the other. he leaned down as well, his head now near yours as he examined the paper, squinting slightly.
“you’re in luck,” he said, “i’m sitting at the same table.”
he smiled at you and you smiled back weakly, trying to hide the fact that you felt like you were going to melt out of embarrassment. you followed him as he walked between the tables until slowing down.
“i think our table is right… here,” he said, coming to a stop.
he pulled your chair out from under for you and signalled for you to sit. you did just that and he proceeded to push your chair in before he took his own seat, right by your side.
“thank you,” you said, turning towards him.
“no problem,” he responded.
“i’m y/n, by the way,” you said.
“yeah, uh, i know,” he said laughing nervously, his cheeks taking on a pink tint.
“i watched your movie, it was amazing. you were incredible,” he continued, the compliment making that familiar heat rise to your cheeks yet again.
“thank you,” you said shyly, “i watched elvis, too.”
“did you enjoy it?” he asked expectingly.
“yes! oh my god, yes. i mean, i was always a fan of his music and the movie just made it better. not to mention, you were amazing,” you said.
“thank you,” austin said, his voice deep and thick with a hint of elvis’s accent still remaining.
jerrod carmichael, the host for the evening, called everyone’s attention to announce that the awards ceremony would be starting in five minutes.
“i haven’t met that many people nowadays that were fans of elvis before the movie,” austin spoke again after the brief interruption.
“i love his music. i have a bunch of his vinyls. i don’t really care how many times i have his songs repeated on different albums, i always buy them,” you said.
“you collect records?” he asked, intrigued, to which you nodded.
“so i’m assuming you like old music?” he asked.
“i love it,” you answered, “old rock mostly. elvis, the kinks, hendrix, zeppelin, motley crue, joan jett, y’know? all that stuff.”
“oh wow. you have records for all of them?” he asked curiously.
“yeah,” you confirmed, “do you collect?”
“i started, but i can guarantee your collection is way better than mine,” he said, laughing lightly.
“oh, i’m sure you have a good collection too,” you assured, causing him to laugh.
“no no,” he said, still laughing, causing you to laugh too.
“it can’t be that bad,” you said, smiling widely.
“well considering it’s mostly hand-me-down shitty yacht rock and hall and oates, i’d say it is,” he smiled.
“hey, don’t shit on hall and oates,” you said playfully.
“alright, alright,” he said, an amused look in his eyes, “you’re right, hall and oates is good.”
“that’s better,” you laughed.
“y’know, i’d really love to see your collection,” austin spoke, a hint of shyness in his voice and a pink hue reaching his cheeks again.
“here, i’ll give you my number and we’ll arrange it,” you smirked.
“okay then,” he said, satisfied with himself as he pulled his phone out and handed it to you.
you typed in your name and number, trying to suppress the jitters you had from the fact that you were giving your celebrity crush your phone number.
the lights dimmed and the crowd went silent, marking the beginning of the eventful night, and although you were at the golden globes, you couldn’t wait for it to be over so he would text you.
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