#Tailored Cleaning Approaches

[dental1234]

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[ja3yun]

I was wondering if I could make a small request? I've been thinking of making out with sunghoon. Like his lips are so perfect for kissing and biting/nibbling, and I can't help but think about straddling his lap and making out softly and then intensely and becoming so aroused from that. I don't know if you can work with that or add anything to make it better, but I need it, please. If not, I'm sorry to bother you.

warnings: suggestive, kissing obvs, slight biting

w.c: 1.1k

a/n: hope you like it babe! i hope it's what you wanted. i wrote this during my lunch break so it might be a bit messy, sorry.

----------

Opening your bedroom door, you see your boyfriend sprawled across the bed, his back against the headboard as he scrolls through his phone, waiting for you.

Leaning against the doorframe, you allow yourself a moment to drink in the sight before you. His eyes, half-closed in a relaxed expression, seem to hold a thousand unspoken promises. Every line of his face is softened, a striking contrast to the usual meticulous façade he presents to the world.

The dampness of his hair creates a delicate halo around his head, catching the light in such a way that makes him look both tender and enchanting. He always looked the most beautiful like this, barefaced, his natural charm shining through

You feel a warmth spreading through you, an appreciation for the rare beauty before you. And you get to call him yours.

Your gaze drifts to his lips, which look velvety smooth and inviting. The natural plump, pink pillows stand out against his skin, and you can't help but be mesmerised by their softness. The way they part slightly as he breathes, the delicate curve of his smile, all combine to create a sight that is utterly captivating.

Slowly, you push off from the doorframe and make your way towards him. His eyes meet yours, a small smile playing on his lips as he watches you approach. “I thought you drowned in there,” he jokes, locking his phone and giving you his full attention.

You climb onto the bed, crawling over to straddle his lap, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. His hands find your waist, steadying you as you settle in. You lean in closer, breathing in the clean, fresh scent of him, and feel a sense of contentment wash over you.

“I just took a really long shower today,” you sigh, tone slightly deflated.

The shift in your demeanour doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, who crunches his thick eyebrows as his expression paints a worried look. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” he asks softly, his voice full of genuine concern. His gaze never wavers from yours, and in that moment, you feel the full depth of his care and attention.

You shake your head slightly, trying to dispel the lingering feelings of weariness. “Nothing serious, just a bit tired,” you admit, resting your forehead against his. His presence, so calming and reassuring, begins to lift the weight from your shoulders. Your hands splay over his chest as you feel his taut muscles under your fingertips.

He gently tilts your chin up with his pointer finger, his lips brushing yours in a tender kiss that seems to communicate all the love and understanding words could never fully capture.

Sunghoon’s lips are soft and inviting, their texture silky smooth against your own. As the kiss begins, it’s gentle and exploratory, each movement delicate and thoughtful. You can feel the subtle brush of his skin against yours, a light caress that sends shivers down your spine. His lips move slowly, moulding with yours like he was tailor made for you. You can taste the faint hint of mint on his breath, mingling with his own flavour.

As the kiss deepens, his lips press more firmly against yours, their warmth spreading through you like a soothing balm. His hands tighten slightly on your waist, pulling you closer, his fingertips tracing small, comforting circles on your skin. You can feel the gentle pressure of his mouth as he tilts his head, adjusting the angle to better align with yours. The sensation is electrifying, every touch a promise of more to come.

With each meld of your lips, his teeth nibble at your lips, dragging them and as he looks at you with a lust filled gaze before licking the slight wounds, giving you the perfect balance of pleasure and care.

Your own hands move up to his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt as you lose yourself in the kiss. His lips part slightly, inviting you to further the connection, and you respond eagerly. The kiss becomes more fervent, a passionate dance of tongues and lips that leaves you breathless. Each movement is infused with a sense of urgency and longing, the soft sound of your breaths mingling in the quiet room.

His hips buck up into you instinctively, making you gasp in arousal, allowing Sunghoon to explore your mouth deeper, his wet muscle marking it’s territory everywhere it can reach.

The sensation of his tongue gliding against yours is both tender and intoxicating, a blend of sweetness and pure desire. You meet his movements with equal enthusiasm, your tongues entwining in a sensual rhythm that heightens the need between you. Each caress of his tongue sends a thrill through your body, the taste of him filling your senses.

Kissing Sunghoon is like nothing you could ever put into words, it’s passionate, raw, loving, and lustful. He knows by your earlier statement that you need to just lose yourself in his touch, give your mind a rest and breathe in his adoration.

Pulling back, you catch the air back in your lungs, chest heaving against his. But Sunghoon doesn’t rest, instead he attached his swollen lips to your cheek, nose, forehead, jaw, and neck, peppering loving kisses all over you.

“I’ll kiss away the tiredness for you,” he smirks, portraying his desire, yet his eyes are soft and brimming with affection as they meet yours.

You smile, feeling the warmth of his affection with each gentle kiss. His lips linger on your skin, their touch both soothing and electrifying. Each kiss seems to chase away the remnants of weariness, replaced by a burgeoning sense of joy and contentment. The tender graze of his lips against your neck sends a delightful shiver down your spine, making your heart swell with a deep, comforting love.

As he continues his tender ministrations, you can’t help but laugh softly, the sound of relief and happiness. “You’re going to spoil me with all these kisses,” you tease, running your fingers through his damp hair.

He chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. “If that’s what it takes to see you smile, I’ll keep going,” he replies, his voice laced with sincerity and a hint of mischief.

“Then, yes, keep kissing me, please,” you pout your lips out, patiently awaiting him to envelop yours once again. The lightheartedness in your voice makes Sunghoon’s heart flutter with glee, your body a tiny bit more energised and hopeful than before.

“Anything you want, baby,” he pecks your lips in quick bursts, the sound of smooches and your heartbeats echoing the room.

A sly grin etches on your face. “Anything?” You wiggle your eyebrows and Sunghoon gets your insinuation instantly and grips your hips roughly, moving your hips against his growing erection. A moan slips past your lips as your eyes close, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your neck and bulge running effortlessly over your clit.

“I think anything is reasonable.”

[callsigns-haze]

Unexpected twist

Pairing: Tim Bradford x Reader

Chapter Summary: Tim and Y/N's first date at a fancy restaurant is interrupted by a robbery, turning a romantic evening into a spontaneous takedown and leaving their relationship exposed to their curious colleagues.

Chapter Warning: This chapter contains a sudden shift from a romantic date to an intense, potentially dangerous situation involving a robbery, with moments of suspense, gun use, and police intervention.

A/N: My first fic about the rookie eeeeeeeeek

The evening was perfect—the kind of night that begged for romance. The sun had just set, leaving behind a soft twilight that bathed Los Angeles in shades of purple and gold. The upscale restaurant Tim Bradford had chosen was nestled in a quiet corner of the city, known for its elegance and discretion. It was the kind of place where celebrities could dine without being disturbed, and tonight, it was the stage for a first date that had been a long time coming.

Tim arrived first, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and nerves. His usually steady hands betrayed a slight tremor as he adjusted the cuffs of his navy-blue suit. The suit was perfectly tailored, accentuating his broad shoulders and athletic build, the sharp lines giving him an air of authority even out of uniform. The crisp white shirt he wore beneath it was open at the collar, revealing a hint of tanned skin, and his dark leather shoes were polished to a mirror shine. His hair was neatly styled, though a few rebellious strands fell across his forehead, softening the hard lines of his face. He glanced at his reflection in the window, making a mental note to ease up on the cologne—he wanted to make an impression, not overwhelm her.

Just as Tim settled into his seat, Y/N Y/L/N entered the restaurant, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. She was a vision in an emerald-green dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, the rich color bringing out the warmth of her skin. The neckline was a perfect balance—elegant yet suggestive, hinting at the strength beneath the softness. Her hair was styled in loose waves that cascaded over her shoulders, and her makeup was subtle but impeccable, with a soft shimmer on her eyelids that caught the light just so. A delicate gold necklace adorned her neck, matching the small, sparkling earrings that completed her look. She moved with a grace that was both natural and practiced, each step exuding confidence.

Tim stood as she approached, his heart beating a little faster than usual. "Wow," he said, his voice dropping an octave, full of genuine admiration. "You look... stunning."

Y/N smiled, a hint of a blush rising to her cheeks. "Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself, Bradford. I almost didn't recognize you without the uniform and scowl."

He chuckled, the tension easing slightly. "I save the scowl for the rookies. And for bad guys. I promise you won't see it tonight."

She raised an eyebrow playfully as she took her seat. "We'll see about that. I’m sure I could get it out of you if I tried."

Tim’s eyes sparkled with amusement. "Careful, Detective. You don’t want to see me at my worst tonight."

"Oh, I’m not afraid of you," Y/N teased, her voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper. "In fact, I’m looking forward to it."

Tim leaned in slightly, his gaze locking with hers. "You know, I wasn't sure you'd actually say yes to this. We've worked together for a while, and I didn’t know if you’d be interested in mixing business with… pleasure."

Y/N's lips curled into a slow, seductive smile. "Who says I’m interested in pleasure, Bradford? Maybe I just wanted to see if you’re as tough off-duty as you are on."

His grin widened, clearly enjoying the banter. "Oh, I’m just as tough, but I can be pretty charming when I want to be."

"Charming, huh?" Y/N’s tone was light, teasing. "I’ll believe it when I see it."

They continued to flirt as the evening progressed, their conversations flowing easily from work to personal interests, each revelation bringing them closer. The chemistry between them crackled like electricity, unspoken but undeniable. Every now and then, they would exchange a glance, both of them half-expecting a familiar face from the station to walk through the door.

"You know," Y/N said, breaking the momentary silence, "I keep thinking someone from work is going to walk in and ruin this."

Tim nodded, his expression softening. "Same here. It’s like we can’t escape the job, even on a night like this."

"Well, if they do show up, we’ll just tell them we’re working undercover," she suggested with a mischievous grin.

Tim smirked. "Yeah? And what exactly are we investigating?"

"Restaurant quality," she replied with a wink, making Tim chuckle.

Just as they were starting to relax, the door to the restaurant was thrown open with a loud crash, and the once tranquil atmosphere shattered like glass. A man in a black ski mask stormed in, waving a gun wildly in the air. The room fell into a stunned silence, every patron freezing in fear.

"Everyone stay where you are!" the man shouted, his voice edged with desperation. "Empty your wallets, your purses—now!"

Tim’s eyes sharpened, his instincts kicking in immediately. He looked at Y/N, who had already reached under the table, her hand on her off-duty weapon. Her expression had gone from flirty to deadly serious in an instant. She gave Tim a quick nod, and they both moved with a speed and precision that spoke to years of training and experience.

"Hey!" Tim barked, standing up suddenly. His voice was authoritative, commanding the room. "LAPD! Drop the weapon and get on the ground, now!"

The robber spun around, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected confrontation. His gun wavered, but his desperation outweighed his common sense.

"Don’t move!" he yelled, his voice cracking. But it was too late—Y/N was already moving, her gun drawn and trained on him with deadly accuracy.

"Put the gun down!" Y/N ordered, her voice steady, every bit the seasoned detective. "This doesn’t have to end badly for you."

The man hesitated, his eyes darting between the two officers and the terrified patrons around him. The tension in the room was palpable, everyone holding their breath, waiting for the situation to explode.

Tim slowly approached, his gun also drawn. "You’re outnumbered, and we’re not going to ask again," he warned, his voice low and threatening. "Drop it."

The robber’s resolve broke. His hand shook violently as he looked from Tim to Y/N, realizing he had no way out. With a defeated sigh, he let the gun slip from his fingers and clatter to the floor. Y/N was on him in an instant, kicking the weapon away and securing his wrists with a pair of handcuffs.

Tim kept his gun trained on the man until he was sure the situation was under control. As the adrenaline began to fade, he glanced around the restaurant, noticing the wide-eyed stares of the other patrons. Applause broke out, tentative at first, then growing louder as relief washed over the room.

Y/N looked up at Tim, a grin spreading across her face. "So much for a quiet evening, huh?"

Tim couldn’t help but smile back. "Yeah, I guess we have a talent for finding trouble."

Y/N stood, pulling the cuffed robber to his feet. "Or maybe trouble just finds us."

Before they could share another quip, the sound of police sirens filled the air outside, and moments later, a familiar group of officers burst into the restaurant, weapons drawn, ready to respond.

Nolan was the first through the door, followed by Harper, Aaron, and Lucy. Their faces were a mix of surprise and confusion as they took in the scene—Y/N and Tim standing over a cuffed suspect, both looking more like they were on a night out than responding to a robbery.

"What the hell is going on here?" Harper demanded, her sharp eyes narrowing as she holstered her weapon.

Tim and Y/N exchanged a quick look, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. Y/N opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Lucy chimed in, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Were you guys on a date?" Lucy blurted out, the question hanging in the air like a bomb waiting to explode.

Tim felt his face flush, the color rising from his neck to his ears. Y/N seemed equally flustered, though she quickly tried to recover.

"Uh, we were just… grabbing a bite to eat," Y/N said, her voice a little too casual.

"Yeah, just happened to be in the right place at the right time," Tim added, though his tone didn’t quite carry the confidence he hoped for.

Nolan raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. "A bite to eat? In suits and fancy dresses?"

Harper crossed her arms, clearly amused. "Right place, right time, huh? Sounds more like a date to me."

Y/N sighed, knowing they were caught. "Fine, it was a date. But in our defence, we didn’t expect to be playing hero tonight."

"Well, you certainly picked a memorable first date," Aaron remarked with a smirk, looking at the subdued robber. "Though, maybe next time choose a place that’s less likely to get held up."

Lucy’s eyes sparkled with excitement. "I knew it! I knew there was something going on between you two!"

Tim shot her a look, though there was no real heat behind it. "Can we maybe focus on the fact that we just stopped a robbery?"

Harper chuckled, clearly enjoying the situation. "Sure, Bradford. But you know this is going to be all over the station by morning."

Y/N groaned, rubbing her forehead. "Great. Just what I wanted."

Nolan grinned, clapping Tim on the shoulder. "Hey, at least you didn’t have to pay for dinner."

Tim couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, I guess there’s that, still get to keep the two hundred in the budget."

As their colleagues began to process the scene and take the suspect away, Y/N leaned in close to Tim, her voice low and playful. "So, how about round two? Somewhere a little less public?"

Tim’s eyes lit up with a mix of humour and affection. "Sounds perfect. And maybe this time we can actually finish a meal."

As Tim and Y/N walk out of the restaurant, still riding the adrenaline from the robbery, Tim glances at her with a playful grin. “So, any ideas for our second date? Preferably somewhere without armed robbers?”

Y/N laughs, shaking her head. “Yeah, I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night. How about something a little more low-key? Maybe a quiet dinner at my place? I make a mean lasagna.”

Tim’s eyes light up at the suggestion, and he nods. “That sounds perfect. But just so you know, I’m bringing dessert.”

“Deal,” Y/N replies, smiling warmly. “And this time, let’s keep our badges out of sight.”

They exchange a look filled with anticipation, both eager for a date that will hopefully be free of interruptions—and a chance to really get to know each other.

Taglist:

@callsign-magnolia

@senawashere

@pandabiiissh

@mattsdirtylittlehoe

@siriuslyblackonback

@reignsboy19

@taina-eny

@billy-reads

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@chiefdirector

@serendipitouslife90

@justabigassnerd

@callsign-dexter

@kmc1989

@iliketopgun

@rosiahills22

[jobean12-blog]

His to Keep

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Mob!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 3,626

Summary: You've been working for Bucky for almost a year and although you know there's so much more to him than just owning the club, you can't help but be drawn to him as he's drawn to you.

Author's Note: Just more mob!Bucky because I love him so! Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: light mentions of v-i-olen-c-e and angst, but mostly sweetness and softness, tension and flirting, and d-o-m and obse-ssi-ve Bucky.

The piercing shot rings out, and before the echoing sound even dies, Bucky’s running. Your high-pitched scream pierces the air and he silently prays for your safety, his long legs moving so fast time seems suspended.

When he reaches the hallway, there’s a small group of employees gathered by the doorway, their expression filled with shock and horror.

They part without question as he approaches, rushing into the room and ignoring the violence that so blatantly fills it. His blue eyes search for you and finally his heart starts beating again when he sees you unharmed.

You’re crouched in the corner, eyes wide with terror as you take in the slumped over man in the chair, his tailored and expensive suit now stained red.  

Bucky’s men immediately follow his orders to handle the situation but his attention never leaves you.

With slow steps he approaches you, holding his hands out and speaking your name softly. When your eyes lock with his the first tear slides down your cheek and he nearly crumbles to his knees, his heart shattering.

He gathers you into his arms with such a gentle grace, as if you’ll break and ushers you toward his office. With a nudge of his toe he opens the door and sets you down in his large leather chair. Carefully he takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over you, tucking it above your shoulders.

His eyes are laser focused on you as he fills a crystal glass with whiskey and forces it into your shaky hand.

“Drink this.”

You glance at it unseeingly, lost in your head, replaying what you just witnessed over and over.

He lifts the glass with a gentle touch and when it reaches your lips you drink reflexively. He waits until you finish all of it.

Taking a silk handkerchief out of his breast pocket, he kneels down in front of you, his hands moving with slow trepidation, but still you try to intercept it.

“Let me,” he orders. “Please doll.”

The second set of words come out softer and your hands fall to your lap.

He cleans your face of tears, his touch delicate and reverent and you can feel his warm breath fan your cheek as his thumb chases a stray tear that slips toward your mouth.

“Doll,” he whispers roughly, emotion clogging his voice.

Your wet lashes lift and you meet his eyes, your breath catching at what you see. You’ve never seen him look so vulnerable. His usual façade of unrivaled power and unrelenting dominance gone, replaced by a haunting look of dread.

“James?”

At the sound of his name on your lips his jaw clenches, his controlled restraint slowly slipping away with his mask and every moment he spends so close to you. He needs you to feel you. Your warm and soft skin, your pulsing heartbeat, your lips, every curve…

But he would never take advantage of you, especially after what just happened.

“Let me take you home.”

You nod and easily fall into his embrace, resting your head against his chest as he escorts you toward the exit.

When your soft sheet hits your shoulder you sigh, snuggling closer to your pillow as Bucky tucks you in. You had argued lightly when he told you to shower but now that you’re warm and clean you feel marginally better.

He pauses at the door as you fall asleep, knowing he can’t leave you here alone, instead sinking into your make up chair in the corner of the room, watching vigilantly as you succumb to slumber.

A week later you’re determined to leave your house, wanting to get back to work, even if it means facing the demons of that night. And you want to see him again. You’ve missed him, even though you know he’s never very far away.

He watches from his hidden vantage point as you close your car door and start the engine. He doesn’t need the GPS tracker he had installed on your car to tell him where you’re headed, but he turns it on anyway.

His own car starts, black and sleek in a nondescript way. He easily catches up to you, maintaining a safe distance behind you so you don’t notice him.

He phones Steve who’s working the back door of the club. “She’ll be arriving soon. Escort her in.”

Steve makes a small sound of acknowledgement and hangs up, promptly moving outside to wait for you.

Once Bucky is satisfied Steve has you covered he makes a sharp turn off the main road and takes the back streets toward his club. He needs to be there before you. Ready and waiting.

Before you even turn your car off, Steve is at the door, opening it and guarding you with his body.

In his office, Bucky waits, checking the crowd through the one-way glass that overlooks the floor. Security has been upgraded, covering every inch of his club to ensure nothing like what happened last week ever happens again.

Everything in the club looks to be running smoothly…not that he would have it any other way. All his endeavors are done with the utmost care and cunning precision. He wouldn’t be able to run this club any other way let alone the whole damn city.

He scans the floor until his eyes land on you and as if you can feel his gaze, your eyes glance up to the window where you know he’s standing.

The connection that’s been growing between you two for the past year has only been solidified since the unfortunate event that took place last week. He knew in that moment that he would do anything for you. Die to protect you.

Since the instant you walked into his club to apply for the job as manager he knew you were special. And having you work for him has been the sweetest torture. Day after day he watches you excel at your job, handle everything thrown your way with ease and professionalism, even the scummy clientele that try to lay hands on you.

No one touches what belongs to him and only the ones that don’t know who he is try. But they soon find out how big of a mistake they’ve made.

Steve alerts Bucky that you’re on your way up to his office.

The knock on his office door makes his heart skip a beat and even though he’s dressed impeccably he smooths his hand down his chest, adjusting his tie in the process.

“Come in.”

You crack the door open and peek in.

“Hi James. Steve said I could come up?”

At your questioning tone, Bucky smiles.

“You never have to ask to see me doll. You’re welcome to anytime.”

You smile softly and walk in, shutting the door behind you. With a slow saunter you move toward his desk and perch yourself on the edge near his chair.

He finds it hard to concentrate the moment you’re close. Even though you try to keep a cool demeanor, your body is inviting in its posture and your eyes devour every inch of him.

“Thank you for seeing me James,” you start. “I wanted to…”

Before you can finish he leans closer, a gentle interruption with his consuming presence.  “First of all, call me Bucky. I’m only James to everyone else. And as I said before, I would love to see you anytime you want doll.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning toward him as if you’re pulled by some invisible string. “That’s actually why I’m here. I wanted to thank you.”

“For?” he asks, his eyebrows raised as a small smile pulls at his lips.

Your eyes drop to his mouth before your lips part to speak again.

“Taking such good care of me last week and rescuing me.”

“I hardly rescued you doll. I’ll never forgive myself for putting you in that situation and the fact that I wasn’t there to protect you will haunt me forever. I never wanted you to see this side of my…business.”

You pull your gaze away from his mouth and study his face. He’s beautiful. His large blue eyes framed by dark and long lashes and his perfectly shaped jaw surrounding a mouth with lips you dream about tasting.

“It’s ok…”

“No.” he says, his tone harsh.

His face crumples when he sees your eyes widen at his gruffness.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly recovers. “That’s not meant to be toward you…if anything had happened to you…”

You tentatively reach up to cup his cheek, your thumb softly brushing over the dark stubble that lines it.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I know you would never hurt me.”

His eyes are locked on yours, the tension between you palpable. You unconsciously trace your lips with your tongue, drawing his attention. He moves closer, closing the distance and resting his elbows on his spread thighs.

“Anything you want from me. Anything at all. You need but to ask and it’s yours.”

“Jame…Bucky, thank you.”

He visibly preens when you say ‘Bucky,’ and it makes you smile, triumph alight in your eyes.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do…?” you ask, looking at him from under your lashes.

“Nothing. You’re perfect. However, I’d like to ask you something.”

His words peek your interest and you inch closer, knowing after today there’s no turning back from this. From him.

“Dinner. I want you to have dinner with me doll.”

“That wasn’t a question,” you say teasingly, even as you drag your teeth over your bottom lip. “More of an order.”

“Mm, you’re right,” he winks. “Either way, I think your answer is going to be yes.”

“Like a date?” you question, your grin widening.

“Yes. A date.”

“What will everyone else say when they find out you’re dating your employee?”

Your question has his features hardening ever so slightly, but not at you.

“No one will say a word about it. I can assure you of that.”

You audibly swallow as you take him in, focusing on the way you feel about him, not what he’s capable of.

“I’d love to have dinner with you Bucky.”

He visibly relaxes and a genuine smile graces his lips, crinkling the corners of his eyes in such an endearing way you nearly swoon off the desk.

“Good. Then let’s eat.”

You giggle. “Now? I thought you meant you were going to pick me up, you know, I’d get all dressed and then you take me out.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to give you time to reconsider.”

Reluctantly, but with a smirk, he pushes on his heels and rolls his chair away from you, grabbing his cell. He orders a spread of food from one of his restaurants, then sits back down.

“Sit,” he says, motioning to the chair across from him.

When you do he slides closer, framing you with his spread legs and caging you in with his thighs.

“So now that this is dinner, tell me something about yourself that I don’t already know.”

“Hmm,” you muse, tapping your chin.

You fall into easy and comfortable conversation, sharing more about your past. Bucky listens intently, hanging on to every word and prodding gently with well thought out questions.

A knock at the door surprises you both and you can see Bucky’s body tense. He was so immersed in you he lost sight of any possible dangers, forgetting his surroundings. He mentally berates himself, tucking that away and vowing to be more mindful, if only to keep you safe.

Thankfully, it’s only the dinner delivery.

He takes the food and moves to the casual seating area of his office, placing the food down on the coffee table. You follow him and sit on the floor.

He stares at you for a moment, his eyes wandering over your form before he follows suit with a light shrug.

“Have you ever sat on the floor to eat dinner?” you ask playfully.

“Not that I recall,” he answers, serving you food.

You both laugh and dig into the delicious dinner.

After your impromptu dinner date you and Bucky continue to dance around each other at work.  The connection is strong, the pull between you taut with intense heat and longing. You can always feel his presence, his eyes on you, but it’s not uncomfortable at all, in fact, it makes you feel safe.

Later that week as you’re leaving your yoga class you feel someone following you. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end but when you hear the instructor’s familiar voice you relax slightly and turn to say hello.

“Hi Matt.”

He greets you warmly and falls into step next to you as you walk toward your cars. The conversation is light at first but then he starts to complain about his girlfriend and how their relationship is failing. You begin to feel uncomfortable and as if sensing it, Matt drops his head.

“I’m sorry. Enough of my drama. I just need to move on I think.”

You take that as your cue to leave and start to say your goodbye but he keeps talking, chasing after you as you move toward your car.

“Hey, how is work going?”

“Uh..good, really good, thanks.”

Matt continues firing questions at you and your eyes dart around the darkened parking lot, quietly searching for Steve or one of Bucky’s other men.

“You’re really beautiful, you know that?” Matt says, the words pulling your from your spiraling thoughts.

You step back to gain space and before you can answer, there’s a loud clanging noise as the door of the gym next door slams shut.

A big and broad silhouette comes into view and both you and Matt automatically look over.

Steve’s large frame moves closer and you sigh in relief.

“Hey Steve,” you chime, taking a step toward him.

Steve respectfully keeps his distance while also always keeping you protected.

“Ready to go?” Steve asks as he glares at Matt.

“Yes,” you answer, waving at Matt.

Matt blinks several times, clearly confused at Steve’s arrival but grudgingly says his goodbye and shuffles off to his car.

“I was looking for you Steve,” you say once Matt is out of ear shot.

“I’m sorry it took me longer than usual. I was on a call,” he apologies.

“It’s ok,” you say with a soft pat to his shoulder. “Just glad you’re here.”

“I always am.”

When you look at him with curious eyes his own go wide. “Well…not always of course. Bucky would have my head, but I just meant…”

You throw your head back with laughter. “I know Steve. The first few months I thought I was just crazy but when I realized it was just you trailing me and keeping me safe I felt better.”

Steve gives you a more relaxed smile and opens your car door.

“Um Steve,” you say softly as you sit. “Do you think maybe…we could keep this just between us? Matt’s not really a bad guy. I think he’s just having a rough time. I’m sure everything would have been just fine.”

Steve’s mouth turns down in a frown. “You know I can’t do that.”

With a sigh you reply, “I knew you were going to say that.”

Steve’s lips lift into a wry smile. “When it comes to his girl he wants to know everything.”

“Is that so?” you ask, narrowing your eyes. “Should I start keeping a diary so I can report in every second of every day.”

“Well, you probably don’t need to go that far, but…”

Your lips purse but when you see his expression morph into one of sheepishness for the second time that night you decide to let it go and take it up with Bucky himself.

Back home, Steve walks you to your door.

“Do you want to come in? Need a snack or drink?” you ask.

He doesn’t take a single step closer and shakes his head once.

“He’s on his way now.”

“Bucky’s on his way?” you squeak. “Shit. I need to change and tidy up!”

At your use of ‘Bucky’ Steve genuinely grins. The action catches you off guard but you realize that Bucky wasn’t lying when he said no one calls him that but you. With another flurry of thanks and goodnights you bid farewell to Steve, even though you know he’ll just be sitting outside in his SUV until Bucky arrives.

You prepare for your shower, determined to keep your head once he gets there and get some definitive answers from him.

At his knock, you open the door with a tentative smile.

“Doll face,” he greets, his voice deep and intense.

“Bucky,” you echo. “Would you like to come in.”

“Please,” he answers and brushes past you.

Just the delicate touch of his hand as he walks by sends goosebumps skittering across your skin.

“I’m sure you already know about what Steve did tonight,” you say as you walk into your living room.

“Of course,” he answers.

You look over your shoulder and narrow your eyes.

“Want something to drink?”

“Do you have whiskey?” he asks.

“No whiskey, just red or white wine and water. Take it or leave it.”

At your sassy tone his eyebrows raise every so slightly.

“Water is fine, thank you. And want to tell me what that sassiness is about.”

After you get two glasses of water you sit on the couch across from him, leveling him with your best glare.

“How long have you had Steve following me?” you ask him.

“You’re very observant,” he states.

“That’s not an answer,” you continue with sass. “And I’ve been paying attention. You know I have. But mostly to you.”

Your confession satisfies him. You can see it in the way he lifts his chin and his eyes glitter.

“I want you to fill me in Bucky.”

“On?” he asks as his arm falls over the back of the couch and his fingers ghost over your shoulder, mostly bare in your thin tank top.

“Bucky.”

You mean it to come out more demanding, but it’s breathy and your body shivers at his touch.

“Are you sure? You were pretty freaked out by what you learned last time you got a glimpse behind my curtain. And rightfully so.”

“Tell me. I trust you and I want to give us a chance.”

He takes a deep breath and shares as much as he can without putting you in any more danger.

“Why do all of this though? Do you have men following everyone that works for you? Why did Steve call me your girl?”

“Two of these questions have the same answer. From the moment I saw you I wanted you to be mine and after the incident earlier this month and I almost lost you, it became an overwhelming feeling.”

His fingers press into your skin as he glides them down your arm.

“And no. I don’t have men on anyone else that works for me. I keep them safe of course. But just you. Always you.”

His hand leaves your arm and he strokes his thumb along your jaw. You lean into his touch and sigh out his name.

“I’ve been patient,” he murmurs. “Fuck doll, I’ve been so patient.”

He presses the pad of his finger to your lips, tracing their softness.

“But with every breath I take, I think of you. Every beat of my heart, I want you.”

The moment stretches in sweet torture before you place a hand on his cheek.

“I want you t…”

Before the words are fully out of your mouth he’s on you, dragging you into his lap and grinding his hips up as he grabs the back of your neck and steals your breath.

You press closer, needing to feel every inch of him. Your arms wrap around his neck and you lightly scratch your nails over his scalp before your hands fall to his chest and you start to tug at his tie.

Your lips leave his and you trail kisses along his jaw, stopping just below his ear before tracing the muscular column of his neck.

He hisses out a curse and tightens his grip. You smile into his skin and loosen his tie. You’ve barely gotten it undone when his large hand lands on your ass cheek. The sting makes you moan and rock your hips but in a flash your eyes are on his, your chin caught between his thumb and forefinger.

You take in his appearance as he stares at you. His usually pristine shirt now wrinkled, the buttons at the top hanging open and his loose tie dangling messily. His normally untouched hair is tousled, wild from your fingers and his control is clearly wavering with every heaving breath he takes.

You don’t waste another second and this time you kiss him, pressing your softness against every hard plane of his body, maximizing every bit of contact as you try to pin him to the back of the couch. You nibble into his bottom lip and then swallow the sound of his satisfied growl.

“Doll,” he starts, and you hear the questioning tone of his voice.

“Fuck me, Bucky. Fill me and make me yours.”

For a split second you see surprise flash across his features but he instantly recovers with a smirk.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for his, how many times I’ve dreamed of you saying those words to me,” he murmurs, his body rigid with his restraint. “And remember, you asked for this. I’m going to give you everything.”  

His words are a dark promise, one you hold onto with every fiber of your being.

@book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @littleseasiren @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife

[thecharacterchronicler]

District Girl (Part 3) || (Peacekeeper) Coriolanus Snow x Reader || Smut

Outline: Coriolanus meets you again and, as a bad thunderstorm approaches, you invite him to take shelter in your cabin…

Word count: 3’686

Warnings: obsessive and possessive behavior, power imbalance, virgin female (implied) and rough explicit sex.

Author’s note: I tried to fulfill a request I received while sticking to the original idea I had for this part 3, so I hope whoever (anon) asked for it will be okay with this one being a bit rough. I promise I’ll try to write a much sweeter, more romantic, one shot of the reader losing her virginity to Coriolanus for you soon. Thanks for inspiring me with your request! 🖤 (Though I’m not sure I’ll know how to write sweet and romantic Coryo…)

((Part 1 )) - ((Part 2 ))

It had been cloudy since morning, causing the humidity in the air to rise above what Coriolanus usually deemed acceptable. It was still warm, even without a trace of sunshine, hidden behind menacing black clouds. Far in the distance, he could hear the distinctive roar of a thunderstorm approaching from the mountains, electricity almost palpable in the air.

Coriolanus didn’t enjoy sunny days either, mostly because he couldn’t get used to the uncomfortable climate of District 12, but standing between broken shacks, on a dirt road that would probably flood and turn into mud as soon as rain would start falling was a whole new kind of hell to him.

Hopefully, the party he was supposed to keep in check would end soon. It had barely started, with the two newlyweds couples returning from the justice building, gathering with their guests in a narrow space of grass between two cabins. Music was playing, but he didn’t like how wrong it sounded in his ears. People were joyfully chatting, trying to ignore the presence of peacekeepers nearby, watching them in search of an excuse to break out this gathering before it could turn sour because it somehow always turned sour in district 12… But maybe it would be the approaching storm that would put an end to the festivities first, allowing Coriolanus to go back to the barracks and have the rest of the afternoon to rest.

Standing tall, stoic, with a hand on his weapon, he watched the party unfold as some kids ran off to gather branches and burnt grass. He didn’t know the traditions for a wedding in this district but it sure seemed kind of pathetic to him. If it was his wedding, he would have made sure that it was a special day, he would have worn his best outfit and he would have made sure that his guests did too… Unlike most of the ones present today, still in their mining clothes and covered in dust. He also would have made sure that he had a proper venue where to celebrate his wedding, not a small patch of burnt grass near a row of sad cabins. And surely, he would have made sure that no storm was threatening to ruin it all.

“Hurry up or we won’t have enough time to get the fire going for the toasting.” You instructed a group of kids, as they placed a few fragile branches in your hands before running off again. You looked worried, your eyes on the black clouds in the horizon.

Coriolanus’ entire body reacted to your voice, briefly breaking his steady posture. He gazed at you, an irrepressible smirk appearing on his lips at the sight. You looked lovely. Even better than usual. Of course, you - out of all the other people - had had enough respect for the newlyweds to show up to their party wearing a nice and clean dress. The color brought out your eyes, making it all he could see for a moment. Until he lowered his gaze to your silhouette, noticing how it hugged and highlighted your lines and curves in the best way possible. It was as if the dress had been tailored for your body. Flawless.

Even if he wasn’t invited to the party and was instructed to keep his distances unless anything important occurred, he was happy to see you. He could watch you from where he kept guard, admire your beauty and make sure he memorized the contours of your body in that dress to entertain him later, when he’ll be alone in the showers. It wasn’t so bad after all.

The kids brought back another batch of branches to you and you placed them in a pile on the ground, taking a step back as a couple leaned down to light them on fire. All the guests applauded when red flames appeared, you included, as if lighting a fire was some kind of victory… Maybe it was after all, in such a humid climate.

A second couple did the same thing, starting a smaller fire next to the one slowly gaining strength and it pleased the guests just as much. Coriolanus held his breath when he saw you step up again, expecting you to follow suit on the odd tradition with a man that wouldn’t be him. You were dressed so nicely, your hair so beautifully arranged, that it finally occurred to him that it could be your wedding too.

No, he wouldn’t allow it. You were his. You had tasted him and he had tasted you, you knew each other intimately, you couldn’t belong to another man. Not anymore. Not when you could have him.

Instead of lighting a third fire, you handed both brides a loaf of bread and they proceeded to impale it on a branch, the grooms held it above the dancing flame and everyone watched as the bread slowly cooked. In the Capitol, cakes and desserts were served at weddings not… Toasts ?

He shook off his grimace of disgust. He wasn’t sure if it was because he kept being surprised by everyone’s lack of dignity in this district or if he was still slightly unsettled by the idea of you, marrying someone else.

A louder bang resounded through the street, bringing everyone’s attention to the mountains from which menacing clouds were quickly approaching. It was brief, everyone preffering to focus their attention back on the darkening bread held above the fire rather than on the weather, except for you. Coriolanus locked eyes with you, his heart strangely racing in his chest. He wanted you to notice him, but the possibility you might ignore him again, like you had a few days ago at the Hob, made him uneasy. He had showed you how good he could be to you. How lucky you should feel that you had somehow managed to catch his interest. But maybe you would provoke him again, just so that he could show you who you belong to once more.

A few very explicit images bloomed in his mind, he could be pretty creative when thinking about all the ways he could mark you as his. And as usual, it made him hard and desperate for attention.

But it seemed you weren’t going to need a reminder of his claim on you after all. You had stepped away from the party and were now walking in his direction, your pretty dress caressing the dirt road in the wake of your steps. He couldn’t help but smile at the way you grinned at him, as if you were happy to see him too.

“Are you keeping an eye on me, Coriolanus Snow ?” You asked him, playfully, stopping in front of him just slightly closer than what he would have expected.

His whole body buzzed at the sound of his name coming out of your lips. He had never told you so it must mean you had asked around about him. Maybe you had been obsessing over him as much as he obsessed over you, trying to find out who he was and how you could keep being the object of his desires.

“Always since I know how good you are at sneaking around.” He replied, with a grin. He didn’t know your name, but he would eventually. He simply couldn’t ask anyone about you, not when it might bring negative attention on him from his superiors. And what about his colleagues ? They might think that you’re an easy girl, or at least one who isn’t bothered by the peacekeepers’ uniforms and try to flirt with you - very much like Junius had - if they knew. It was better if he kept it that way for now, you’d be his little secret. “You look lovely in that dress.”

“Thank you.” You replied, seemingly a bit surprised by such a compliment. “My friends got married today.”

He nodded. That much he had gathered, even though wedding celebrations definitely looked nothing like the ones he had seen in The Capitol. He glanced to the sad party, where one couple was now eating their toasted piece of bread while others looked at them with emotion in their eyes. You followed his gaze back to where you came from.

“I’m sorry, I can’t invite you it wouldn’t be…” You started, but stopped yourself as he shook his head.

“It wouldn’t be appropriate, of course.” He finished for you, with a smile meant to reassure you that he had absolutely no desire to be invited to such events anyway.

A moment of silence went by, a bit awkwardly. He couldn’t force you on your knees and get you to suck him off right there, in front of everyone, even though there wasn’t anything he wanted more at this very moment and you couldn’t bring a peacekeeper back to the party with you, so you were both frozen with indecision, unsure of what else to do when you couldn’t put your hands - and mouths - on each other.

Despite daylight, an orange lightning illuminated the sky, fracturing the black clouds over your heads. A few seconds later, a loud bang resonated against the wooden walls of the nearby cabins, making the road under your feet tremble. Rain instantly poured down from the clouds, cold drops of water mixed with icy hail, piercing through the leaves of the trees and bouncing off of the roofs and ground.

Coriolanus left out a curse as the wedding party he was meant to keep in check dissolved, people hurrying in different directions to take shelter from the hail. If anything happened now, it would be his fault because he wouldn’t be able to tell if everyone went back to their cabins or if anything illegal took place afterwards…

You pulled him out of his thoughts by taking his hand in yours and guiding him to the nearest shack on the road, just as another lightning hit the ground, a lot closer than where the previous one did. You opened the door and pushed the peacekeeper in, closing it just as the roaring thunder reverberated through the street.

Coriolanus took in the modest house he was standing in, the few pieces of furniture and the broken window above the kitchen sink. It was about the size of his dormitory, but contained everything a house should, there even was a bed in the far corner of the room.

“You can stay here until the storm passes… If you want.” You suggested, the confidence you had been able to display during your previous encounters with him suddenly gone. Maybe because you felt awfully more vulnerable having him standing in your home rather than in a more public place. “Your clothes are wet, maybe I could hang them to dry ?”

A smirk appeared on his lips at your words and you smiled back at him, slightly blushing. He fixed his pale blue eyes on you as he slowly began unbuttoning his vest, you followed the movement of his fingers with eager eyes. He remembered how it felt when it wasn’t his buttons he was so deftly working on but you, pumping his finger deep inside the warmth his cock was so desperate to be buried in too.

He removed his vest, carefully placed his gun on the kitchen table and took off his shirt, revealing his chiseled chest and broad shoulders. He saw the way your eyes widened at the sight and liked how you couldn’t help but stare at his muscles, gaze lowering at the same speed your cheeks were gaining colors.

He opened his pants, lowered his underwear and left his erection proudly stand up from the fabric. He was hard for you, so hard it was almost unbearable, and you had barely done anything yet, apart from wearing a dress that hugged your silhouette and smile at him. It was kind of pathetic, how he probably could have come undone simply from closing his eyes and imagining his cum shooting out of his spent cock inside of you… Either buried deep in your wet pussy, either lodged down your throat while you gagged on his length, or even painting your face and chest with his cum again, the lovely sight it had been the first time still burned in his memory.

There were so many ways he wanted you. If he could have it his way, he’d probably lock you up in his dorm so that he could come back to you and fuck you mercilessly every time he felt the need to. Having you at his disposal would be such a relief for his cock - and hand. Maybe he’d finally manage to get you out of his mind if he could indulge in every fantasy he had about you, act out every scenario, test out everything he thought of, until he no longer had anything to think about to bring his cock to life at the most inconvenient times.

Although you seemed a bit more reserved this time, you still had the courage to reach behind your back to unzip your pretty dress, the fabric instantly falling and pooling around your feet.

Coriolanus’ blood changed course and flew to his already stretched cock, making it even harder and twitching with impatience. What a perfect sight you were, standing in front of him in nothing but your underwear. It wasn’t a fancy set of lingerie like the girls from The Capitol usually wore but maybe it was because you weren’t a girl from The Capitol that he was so obsessed with you. You were a district girl, and he had never seen a body more beautiful than yours, even in plain underwear that didn’t even match. It was as if he had designed you himself, the shape of you perfectly tailored to his preferences, with curves and dips that drove him crazy and plump, soft, skin that haunted his sleepless nights. It left him unable to decide between his desires to ravage you or worship you.

He stepped forward and carefully pulled the straps of your bra down your shoulders. He unclasped the hooks in your back, a bit less assured than he wanted you to believe he was and, once he was able to pull your bra off, he took a step back to admire your bare chest. Perfect.

He pressed a hand to your tender flesh, excitement buzzing in his veins when he felt the soft malleability of your breast. His hands weren’t calloused like the ones of the miners you probably knew, they were soft and delicate, a clear sign of his luckier upbringing.

He leaned down to place a kiss against your neck, just so he could press his body against yours, feel your heat, the warmth of your skin radiating against his. It was the most intimate he had ever been, with you and with anyone else. He couldn’t say he disliked how it felt, but it was also terrifying. He couldn’t let himself be too vulnerable with you, not when it risked leading to feelings he really didn’t want to have for a district girl like you. He already barely could manage how badly he wanted you, how much he thought about you, day and night… What if he fell in love now ? Surely, it would ruin his life.

No, there wouldn’t be any feelings, not on his side and not on yours either. It was just sex. Really good sex. But just that.

He didn’t have to be soft with you so that you’d like him, he could just take what he needed and give you what you wanted too and call it quits. Yeah, it was a good plan. Flawless even.

He pulled your panties down with a rough motion, taking you by surprise. You barely had time to kick the crumpled fabric off of your feet when he reached for the back of your knees, lifting you up into his arms with your legs closing around his hips for support.

He took a few steps until your back was pressed against the wall. Your face was so close to his, your wet lips making it so hard for him to resist kissing them with all the depth of his passion for you.

No feelings. He reminded himself.

He pushed his hips forward, his hard cock easily gliding through your arousal. You were so ready for him. Just like you had been the other day. And this time he wasn’t going to deny himself the pleasure of being inside you. He pressed himself all the way up to your entrance, finding an unexpected resistance on the way. He heard your breath catch in your throat as he attempted to pass it, noticing the grimace on your face but since you didn’t ask him to stop, he kept trying to dive into the surprising tightness of your pussy.

He felt your hands clasping his shoulders for stability, your body writhing with discomfort at the invasion. He knew he was fairly big - bigger than the fingers he had put inside you at least - but he didn’t expect you to be so incredibly tight around him. The pressure of your walls clenching on him almost making him dizzy with the intensity of the pleasure it built in his abdomen.

Then, without a warning, you suddenly relaxed and your pussy seemed to swallow him whole, finally allowing him to fully bury himself inside of your wetness. He cursed at the sensation and you quietly cried out when he hit the deepest point possible.

You still felt tight, but you were finally giving him permission to move. He gently rocked himself, getting his cock to slide back and forth as a way to loosen you up. He was molding you to fit him. Him, and no one else.

No feelings.

He closed his eyes. He could come just from this but he wasn’t going to be selfish. Not when he wanted you to keep wanting him as much as he did. So he focused, keeping his movements slow and wide despite how fast and rough his brain urged him to go.

Suddenly, you came, digging your nails in his shoulders and whimpering against his neck, your pussy contracting around his cock, forcing him to stop his movements inside you again and stand completely still while you moaned in bliss. He was good at this, it was his second time making you reach your climax and it gave him an unreasonable amount of pride each time he achieved this. This time especially, had merely felt like work at all, you simply couldn’t take that many slow thrusts inside you. And now your cunt was contracting around him, trying to milk cum out of him like the only thing missing from your orgasm was a load of his release inside you. But he wasn’t going to give it to you, not yet. No matter how limp your body suddenly felt in his arms and how you cried out as soon as he resumed his thrusts, he was going to fuck you until he was satisfied this time.

He adjusted his grip on your body and carried you to the bed, lying you down and immediately placing himself on top of you, putting his dick back exactly where it belonged, buried deep inside you. His hands behind both of your knees, he held your legs against his hips as he pushed himself back and forth in you, on his knees while you were lying down with your head resting on your pillow. He could feel the pleasure bubbling inside him, demanding more to finally explode and allow him some relief. He was so desperate to finish, he needed to fill you up with his seed, make sure you would be his from now on. Hell, he wanted to spill everything he could inside you until he was bone dry and then, feed you every drop that might escape from your folds so that none of his release would go to waste.

He leaned forward, the weight of his body shifting and pressing yours deeper into the mattress. The bed was creaking loudly with each of his violent thrusts, menacing to break, while your cries of agonizing pleasure escaped through the broken window, mixing with the splatter of the heavy rain outside and the low rumble of thunder.

It wasnt so much the way he drove himself in and out of you, fast and without mercy, that pushed him off of the edge but the sight of you, gasping for air like you couldn’t take him anymore, crying out his name with half of your face buried in your pillow, your pretty lips forming a perfect oval as he finally groaned and released himself inside you, making you climax once more, in unison with him this time.

He filled you up, waiting until his cock was done twitching, the very last drops of cum dripping from his tip before he took it out. He needed to catch his breath now but the way you were still shaking with pleasure in front of him, beautiful as ever and claimed by him made his heart race.

Rain and hail crashed noisily on the roof of the cabin, covering the sound of your panting breaths, lightning illuminating the darkness that had filled the room every once in a while. He knew that his friends were probably waiting for him back at the barracks, that his superiors might start wondering where he was since he wasn’t on permission yet, but he couldn’t get himself to leave. Not yet. He had been dreaming, imagining, fantasizing about this moment for too long to cut it short. The way you had felt, how your body looked without any clothes on, your face when he poured his release inside you, everything had exceeded his expectations. You were truly perfect for him. And he no longer could resist kissing your lips, making sure you’d understand how obsessed he was with you.

No feelings.

♡ - (( Tip Jar )) - ♡

[fandomnerd9602]

Pretend

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

Three kids, a successful nonprofit, a loving doe for a wife. It was all so amazing. But in truth it was all very tiring too.

You and Wanda encountered a few firsts recently. Your daughter Natalie switched to bottle feeding and began trying to say her first words. It was amazing. You and your wife couldn’t be prouder or happier to say the least.

Your twin buck sons Billy and Tommy were enjoying kindergarten, alongside their best friend and wolf hybrid America who just joined their class. It was picturesque.

But you were missing special time with your doe. You missed, you yearned for the time you and her used to have together when you were younger. Not that you regret any of the amazing experiences parenthood had provided, but you wanted time with just your special doe. An idea formed in your mind and you approached your doe that evening with your amazing plan.

You approached your wife after dinner as she was cleaning the dishes. The boys were watching TV and your baby girl was dozing off in her little crib. It was all perfect.

You wrapped your arms around your mate and kissed her neck. She hummed in contentment.

“Detka” she moans.

“I want to have an affair. With you.” You quickly say.

Wanda giggles, “detka we’re married. What are you getting at?”

“We could get Natasha and Pietro to watch the kids,” you gently whisper in her ear. You begin caressing her thighs, sweetening the deal. “We can use fake names, get a hotel room. Just the two of us”

Your doe shutters at your touch. Her lips quiver at the mention of your plan.

“How soon?” She giggles.

“Friday?” You kiss her behind the ear.

“Friday” she responds with a blush. Your doe bites her lip as she goes back to her task. Her own mind finds itself racing with anticipation.

Friday had arrived. You got the reservation set and dropped the kids off with Natasha and Pietro. Your brother in law gave you a little wink as you turned to leave.

Wanda was already at the hotel. You made sure she had plenty of time to check in and get herself ready in however she wanted to. Honestly, the idea was so enticing and exciting for your bride. She even bought a couple little things for such an occasion. It made her giddy, a chance for the two of you to romance and woo one another.

You arrived at the hotel, a little swanky for your taste but Wanda really wanted to try it out. Turns out Friday night was a swanky event in the hotel’s restaurant, simply perfect timing.

You walked into the hotel in a nicely tailored suit, nothing too fancy but you knew your doe would love it.

You made your way thru the crowd trying to locate your bride as the jazz ensemble played softly.

And then you saw her. Wearing a red evening dress, makeup done, hair pinned up just right. Her antlers were shined up, gleaning like polished ivory. Her very mood portrayed that of a seductive fem-fatale from an old detective movie, your bride was just stunning. You almost couldn’t move, you were that stunned by her.

You walk up to her, trying to keep a certain level of charm on your face, “I must say, red really is your color, ma’am”

“I’m sorry,” she playfully says with a smile, “have we met?”

“I’m sure I would remember someone as beautiful as you” you respond. “Is there someone you’re waiting on?”

“No,” she stares at you seductively, “I’m here on my own accord, looking for some company”

“If it’s alright, I’d love to be some company for you,” you take the seat next to her.

“Most would be turned off by my antlers and tail” she lounges in the chair, not taking her eyes off you for a second.

“I find them quite attractive.”

“I could say the same about you.” She says, her voice dripping with the slight Sokovian accent that you loved so much. “So what brings you here tonight?”

“Maybe I’m looking for some company. Or maybe I’m here on assignment” you flirt with her.

“Oh?” She purrs. “Maybe I’m actually here to rob the rich donors scattered around here”

“International jewel thief? Funny I’m here hunting one” you retort. This little dance of words was enticing.

“Let’s save the cat and mouse for later” she grabs two drinks off a nearby tray, “let’s enjoy the moment and company”

The two of you take a sip of your drinks, however, your eyes remain locked on each other.

The band begins to play a more lively tune. “Care to dance, miss jewel thief?” You ask.

“I was hoping you’d ask,” she purrs as she gets up and sways towards you. Taking her hand, you guide Wanda out to the open dance floor. Your hand snakes around her waist and pulls her close. She lets out a little gasp.

Her hand snakes around your shoulder as the two of you begin to sway to the music.

To the best of the song, Wanda gently grinds her hips against yours. She knew exactly how to get to you.

“Spot any of your targets?” You whisper in her ear

“I spot one.” She replies with a mischievous smile, “I think I may have to get this one alone”

“Your room or mine?”

“Hmm…I don’t think your agency would cover a room here. Besides I want you all to myself” she guides her nails gently down your arm, the sensation was indescribable.

“I’ll cover the room service” you respond, earning a giggle from your mate.

She gently pulls you towards the exit of the lounge area. You follow her into the elevator and all the way up to your hotel room.

About an hour or so later, you and Wanda found yourselves lounging on the singular bed in your comfy set of PJs, the TV was playing a favorite movie of yours.

You had made love a couple times already and enjoyed each other’s company. She was the only company you ever wanted.

“I’m so glad we did this” your wife giggles.

“Oh I’m not letting you out of my sight,” you flirt with her, “can’t have you stealing some rich snob’s jewels.”

“You should’ve brought your handcuffs then” she gives you a wink.

The door knocked as you and Wanda got up, “room service” a voice called out.

You gladly answered and got your order of Chinese take out. Wanda really loved the fried rice and broccoli. The two of you took enjoying your evening with each other, just laughing and feeling like young mates again.

And then Wanda’s phone rang with a text from your pal Tony. The text read as followed: Wanda, why’d you take my watch off of me? Are you and Y/N coming back to the party?

You looked at the text and then at your mate. You had completely forgotten Tony was there too.

“Wanda?!” You asked with a little chuckle.

“I needed a reason for you to chase me?” She says with a little shrug.

Your mate, your doe, the love of your life. What would you ever do without her?

Tags: @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @texaswolf23 @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @iiconicsfan25 @russianredassassin @revanshand @aloneodi @julieromanoff @softlymaximoff

[letmesniffurdaddysfeet]

Forbidden Desires - my boss - Part 1

My boss has always had a certain allure to him. He may not be a model, with his extra pounds and graying beard, but he exudes an aura of masculinity. I try my best to hide any hint of my fantasies, especially since our relationship has been strictly professional and even friendly since I started working here one year ago. He seems to appreciate my work, and I strive to be the model employee. But deep down, I can't help but imagine walking into his office for something other than just dropping off the weekly sales report... His 'daddy bear' demeanor in a suit is incredibly alluring. However, what was once just a fantasy has become slightly more complicated with this upcoming business trip. The news that I would be accompanying the big boss on our company's annual conference in Chicago has stirred up conflicting emotions within me.

As the day of departure approached, I found myself both nervous and excited about the trip. It was a rare opportunity to spend extended time with my boss outside of the office, and I couldn't deny the flutter of anticipation in my stomach. Packing my bags, I tried to push aside any inappropriate thoughts that crept into my mind. This was a business trip, after all.

Arriving at the airport, I spotted him waiting by our gate, looking as handsome and commanding as ever in his tailored suit. He greeted me with a warm smile, and we boarded the plane together. The hours in the air passed quickly with work-related discussions and polite small talk.

As we checked into our hotel in Chicago, I couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of spending the next few days in such close proximity to him. But as we entered our shared suite, I reminded myself to maintain professionalism at all times.

Little did I know that this business trip would test my resolve in ways … I never could have imagined. The first day of the conference went smoothly, with my boss leading meetings and networking with other professionals in our industry. As we returned to our hotel room that evening, I excused myself to take a quick shower before dinner.

As I stepped out of the bathroom, my body still damp from the shower and wrapped in only a towel, I was shocked to see my boss leaning against the window. He had his back to me as he changed into fresh clothes, but I couldn't help but steal glances at his muscular chest and strong arms.

Feeling my heart racing and heat rising to my cheeks, I quickly looked away, trying to compose myself. But the desire stirring within me was growing stronger by the second.

"Sorry, I thought I would have time to change before you finished your shower," my boss said with a casual smile as he turned to face me. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

Suppressing a shaky smile, I desperately repeated the mantra "Don't get turned on, don't get turned on!" His intense gaze bore into me as he asked if I wanted anything from downstairs. My reply was a stammered mess, trying to mask my embarrassment and will my body not to betray me by getting hard. As he left the room, I exhaled a shaky breath of relief... only to realize my cock was fully erect and pulsating with arousal. Hurriedly grabbing some clean clothes from my suitcase, I caught sight of my boss's socks lying innocently on the corner of the bed. An irresistible impulse took over as I brought them up to my face, burying my nose in their musky scent without a second thought. The rush of pleasure was overwhelming as my penis leaked precum, revealing in the potent masculine aroma emanating from the fabric. I couldn't resist any longer and eagerly tasted the sweat-soaked socks with my tongue, savoring every drop of testosterone-laden essence.

In that moment, I was lost in an intoxicating frenzy of lust and desire. My fingers reached down to my pulsating erection, and I began to stroke myself slowly, relishing the silky texture of the socks against my skin. The sensation of my own arousal mixed with the scent of my boss's sweat filled my mind and body.

images flash through my mind, his smug face at his desk, feet propped up, barking orders for me to serve him.'' Take off my shoes and lick my feet !"

My hands tremble as I grab one of his dirty socks and wrap it around my throbbing cock. With a perverse hunger, I taste the other sock with my tongue, imagining it's his sweaty foot flesh. It all becomes too much and I explode in ecstasy, a guttural moan escaping my lips. But as reality crashes back in, I'm left holding the evidence of my taboo act, consumed by shame and the fear of being caught.

Out of breath and reeling from the intensity of my climax, I quickly wiped the remnants of my release with the damp towel. My heart was pounding, and adrenaline rushed through my veins. I realized that I had no idea what time it was or how long he had been gone. I couldn't shake the guilt or the thrill of the taboo act. The scent of my boss's socks still lingered in the air, a potent reminder of my sinful actions.

As I carefully disposed of the socks, a wave of paranoia washed over me. What if he came back early? Or caught a whiff of the forbidden aroma? My mind raced with hypothetical scenarios, and I knew that I had to find a solution. I couldn't let my feelings for him cloud my judgment or put my job in jeopardy. And yet, the thought of his commanding presence and the pleasure he had given me was too powerful to ignore. My mind was in a constant tug-of-war between my desire and my fear.

In a state of intense confusion, I decided to take a walk around the neighborhood, hoping to clear my head. As I stepped outside, I couldn't help but feel the lingering effects of the intimate encounter with my boss's socks. The air outside felt fresh and invigorating, but all I could think about was the taboo act I had committed.

I aimlessly wandered, trying to distract myself from the overwhelming thoughts. Eventually, I stopped at a coffee shop and returned to my room. And there he was, holding his dirty socks with my cum on them, waiting for me...

[thesoftgirlguide]

A Soft Girl's Guide to Home Organization ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

Decluttering and creating a peaceful sanctuary in your home.

I’ve had such a stressful, depressing week and one of the things that made me feel better everyday was coming back to a neat, decluttered room. As a soft girl, you must value comfort, elegance, and serenity in all aspects of your life, including your home. A cluttered and disorganized space can be overwhelming and draining, making it challenging to relax and unwind. In today’s guide, we'll explore gentle and effective home organization and decluttering methods, tailored specifically for a girl like you.

╰┈➤ The Soft Girl’s Approach to Decluttering

🌸 It all starts with a mindful mindset. Acknowledge that decluttering is a process, and it's okay to take it one step at a time.

🌸 Focus on gentle decluttering. Prioritize items that bring joy or serve a purpose, rather than strict minimalism.

🌸 Create a soothing atmosphere: Play calming music, light candles, or diffuse essential oils to make the process enjoyable.

╰┈➤ Define Your Organization Goals

Before you begin decluttering, set clear intentions. Ask yourself:

🌸 Why do I want to organize my home? Is it for relaxation, creativity, or efficiency?

🌸 What do I like about my home’s current layout? Identify what works and what needs changing.

🌸 What are my pain points? Recognize areas that stress you out.

╰┈➤ Crafting a Master Plan

🌸 Take Inventory: List spaces that need organization (closets, kitchen, living room, etc.).

🌸 Arrange tasks based on your life—room by room or category by category.

🌸 If you can’t do it all in a day, allocate time in your schedule for dedicated organization sessions.

╰┈➤ Decluttering Room by Room

🌸 Begin with small areas: If you’re cleaning out just your room always start with your bed. Once you take care of your bed, everything else looks “wrong.” You can move on to drawer, shelf, or closet to build momentum and confidence.

🌸 Sort items into categories: Group similar items together (e.g., books, clothes, kitchen utensils).

🌸 Use the "touch once" rule: Handle each item only once to avoid repetitive decision-making.

╰┈➤ Organizing Strategies

🌸 Utilize storage containers: Choose decorative bins, baskets, and boxes that complement your home's aesthetic.

🌸 Implement the "one in, one out" policy: Maintain a balanced amount of possessions to prevent clutter buildup.

🌸 Designate a "launching pad": Create a designated spot near the entrance for keys, bags, and other essentials.

╰┈➤ Tackling Paper Clutter

🌸 Create a paper sorting station: Designate a spot for sorting mail, bills, and documents.

🌸 Digitize important documents: Scan and store papers electronically, shredding or recycling the originals. If you can’t do that, find a place a store them.

🌸 Organize digital files: Use cloud storage and clear file names to access documents effortlessly.

╰┈➤ How to Maintain Your Sanctuary

Now that you’ve cleaned out your space, you have to maintain it. To do this:

🌸 Schedule regular decluttering sessions: Set aside time each month to maintain your space.

🌸 Practice mindful consumption: Be intentional about purchases, considering whether they align with your values and needs.

🌸 Embrace the "home for everything" rule: Assign a designated spot for each item to prevent clutter accumulation.

Transforming your home into a personal sanctuary requires patience, self-care, and willingness. Remember, organization and decluttering are ongoing processes – be kind to yourself, and enjoy the journey.

[alice-after-dark]

Vox & Alastor's Portrayal of Power

Vox and Alastor handle their public and power very differently. Alastor wants to inspire fear. Vox, however, wants adoration. Yes, of course he wants people to respect his power, but his ultimate drive is for the public to love and admire him. And so he must tailor his image to please them whereas Alastor tailors his image to terrify.

Like, for contrast, when Alastor is walking down the street having his chat with Zestial, we see sinners literally lighting themselves on fire out of fear. That's how terrified the public is of these two. They would rather set themselves on fire than risk whatever they might do to them.

We see the polar opposite with Vox.

When Vox comes out of his elevator, there is a massive crowd of people ready and practically salivating to talk to him. They don't run. They don't lose their minds at his arrival. They bend over backwards to try and get close to him. And Vox loves every second of it. He slaps on his public persona and does what he does best: put on a show. His slogan is literally "Trust Us."

Now, I'm absolutely certain that Vox has publicly displayed his power on several occasions (can't have people forgetting that he is in fact a powerful Overlord), but I guarantee you that all of these incidents have been carefully calculated for his image. He can't just go off on some random bystander for looking at him the wrong way (like Valentino would). He probably waits for some blatant show of disrespect and then very quickly and efficiently puts them in their place. It's not a big dramatic show like Alastor or a mindless rampage like Valentino. It's swift, it's clean, and it's terrifying. But because he doesn't lose his shit at every little thing, it still leaves him approachable.

Arguably, he is the most personable and approachable of the Vees and he likes it that way. Valentino is charming when he wants/needs to be, but also volatile and hostile and easily enraged when things don't go his way. Velvette...well, she's more likely to just ignore you entirely but that's her brand, she is that #bitch after all (which Vox will gladly take over a public tantrum; besides, it means when she does engage, it's all the more impactful). With Vox, however, people hang on his every word and opinion and flock to him when something big happens (look at how sinners specifically cared about his opinion regarding the shifted Extermination deadline). His image is everything and controlling that image is his top priority because it's how he controls the public.

[witch-hazels-musings]

hi pls for my crying dragon man monsieur neuvillette

sandalwood ginseng dalmation stone

hugs and kisses

Sandalwood (ceremony), Dalmatian Stone (loyalty, family), Ginsing (communication, guidance) Neuvillette x gn reader | Divination Ritual warning: reader is grabbed by the arm forcefully (very brief), heights (like really high up), kiss on the hand -- this is my first time writing for Neuvillette. I asked people for help on this and *hopefully* he came out alright!

He pulled you from the group with far more force than you expected. "Where is he?" His contorted face held little patience. His tight-lipped smile and frantic eyes conveyed who this event was significant for.

"I'm sure he'll be here any mome-"

"He better. His absence is unbecoming as the Iudex," he said, his grip intense as he stared you down. "I will not be made a fool."

With metered composure, you tapped the man's hand but he didn't release you. "It's very likely he's been delayed by something. If you'll excuse me, I can uncover what has kept him."

The man took a breath, scanned the crowd once more before letting you go. "Be swift about it."

"Of course," you said and bowed your head. He fussed with his overly decorated clothes, finely pressed and perfectly tailored - though it did little to hide the signs of gluttony around his midsection. He sneered at you before walking away to put on a show for the patrons he no doubt invited to this 'celebration.'

---

You made your way through the halls of the Palais Mermonia, stopping at every place the Iudex liked to wander - hide. When he wasn't sitting as judge, or tucked away in his office, there were a few spaces you could always find him, and if not there, then always -

"There you are," you said as you stepped onto the balcony. Though calling it that was generous. It was more of a ledge, one service member would use to clean the massive windows and - now - where Neuvillette would find solace. You didn't blame him. Being up here away from the noise was far more enjoyable than the stuffy halls and formalities.

Neuvillette was slow in registering your presence. His elegant fingers coiled around his chin, his gaze distant as he looked out across lapping waters that surrounded the Courts of Fontaine. When you approached, his apathetic expression shifted with slight surprise.

"Ah, apologies. I did not sense your approach," he said, voice even, calm like steady water. He gazed upward and glanced behind you at the warm light from beyond the turquoise windows. "I've let myself wander too long haven't I?"

You shook your head. "It's alright. As you know the party will rage on with or without you."

"Undoubtedly," he said and looked back to the landscape. You felt bad for him. A cruel existence to be tied to the fate of others - to witness them at their lowest and most vulnerable and render their judgment. It exhausted you just thinking about it but he rarely complained. You wished he would.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you joined him near the edge and looked out over Fontaine. Though heights were not necessarily your favorite thing you had to admit that in the twinkle of twilight, the view from this high seemed to make the world glitter.

"It's beautiful up here," you said and caught a faint smile on his lips.

"I am quite fond of the tranquility and stillness. It allows for a great deal of reflection."

He was right. Being completely alone and away from prying eyes was nice. Almost like a dip in cool water after a day under the sun. You closed your eyes and breathed in the moisture on the wind, the electricity of the evening, and let them mingle on your skin.

Behind you, a swell of voices rose up through the open window and you remembered what awaited you below.

"I should get back. I'll let them down easy so don't worry about joining us."

"That would be improper. I will return with you."

"Stay," you said, stopping him with a gentle hand on his arm. "I can handle them."

"I should not forsake the duties that are asked of me. Though my interests are far more idle than they may approve of, this aspect of my role cannot be forsaken based on personal preferences."

"Neuvillette, this 'celebration' is nothing more than a way to work your favor."

"How foolish. Festivities such as these would never sway my opinion in court," he explained matter-of-factly, his brows furrowing at the thought.

You chuckled. "I know, but it's just - it's how some people operate. They likely know it won't help them when it comes to the law, but there are many reasons to seem friendly to the Ludex. Connections are equally as valuable as coin in this world."

"I see." He thought for a moment. "Then what of you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are your intentions holding ulterior motives?" he asked, his eyes flickering to the hand resting comfortably against his arm. You panicked and pulled it back.

"Oh, no. No! I'm so sorry, I didn't -" You flared out your palms and let out an uncomfortable noise before clearing your throat. "I'm here for you because I like - wah! No. I mean, yes, I like you but like in a way of being supportive and - like, like assisting you with your work. I'm on your side is what I mean to say. Ugh, please stop looking at me." Embarrassed, you covered your face and pressed your fingers against your brow in a desperate attempt to bring your mind under control.

Neuvillette laughed, soft, almost impossible to hear but it was enough to set your ears on fire. "'You like me?'"

"Professionally, I like you, professionally."

"I have spent countless years evaluating the words of humans. Their core truths and hidden lies and, were this be our first encounter, I may not be so confident in my evaluations."

"Forget I said anything, please."

"How can I," he said and you tensed at the sudden contact of his lithe fingers as they pulled your hand away. "When such blatant falsehoods are being uttered in my presence?"

You swallowed, stared into his intense eyes, and willed yourself not to tear free from his grip and jump off the building. This was the worst. An accidental confession to the man who was 1. your boss, and 2. as unavailable as they came. It took you months to get close to him, for him to be comfortable with you and now - now what have you done?

"It slipped out. I'm sorry," you mumbled.

He smiled, kind, patient, understanding. "There is no need. Yet I am proposed now with a conundrum. It seems a balancing of the scales is in order." Neuvillette lifted your hand to his face and sweetly pressed his lips to your middle and index fingers. "I am quite fond of you, as well," he whispered above them but his words were stolen by the wind.

When he lowered your hand toward your chest, he didn't immediately let go. Instead, he let it rest in his grip while you stared, stunned, at his chest.

"Shall we find our way to the celebration?"

You nodded but your lack of movement told another story. "Yeah, yes. We should do that."

Neuvillette's amused laugh fluttered to your ears and rattled your heart, and your legs. "When you are ready."

"Mmhm."

Thaumaturgy Anthology (October 11-13, 2024)

This event is based on spells and rituals. Inspiration does not equal understanding; liberties have been taken. All content is owned by Witch Hazels Musings, theft of these images and stories will result in immediate action.

[odessa-2]

Titbits and analysis 🖖

As promised, some more titbits from the Con yesterday in Melbourne as well as my interpretations. Prior to attending yesterday, I told myself to keep an open mind and attempt to leave any biases behind (even after having seen the funeral pics). Clean slate. To try and view Sam, the event, questions, and subsequent behaviours objectively.

I'm the sort of person who feels energy and is affected by it and in some ways governed by it. The energy of people, both individually and collectively. The energy of a group. I tend to couple this with objective analysis, which forms the basis of my conclusions about people and situations.

I applied this method yesterday in attempting to understand and view Sam, the OL money 💰 machine and everything else. I also just wanted to go there and bask in the audience and enjoy myself....and....I did like it Jamie.

So first thing I noticed off the cuff was how experienced Sam was in handling questions, and the women, and tailoring his behaviour to suit their desires. He was charming, charismatic, approachable, a skilled professional. I saw the veneer. I felt the veneer. I also saw and felt that he is a pretty decent bloke under that veneer. A man with a solid work ethic, who is mild mannered and working with purpose in his life.

I observed that his handler or Convention agent or whatever he is, Steve, was in full control. He managed Sam's performance in a sense. He asked the questions and even set the directions for some answers. Sam is controlled. I didn't like Steve. I didn't get the best vibe off him. Infact, I got a bad vibe off him. I observed that everything was a performance. Scripted to a large degree. The Single Sam narrative was pushed by Steve. Hard. It was a performance. That much was clear to me.

So Sam chose to mention that he was in Austria skiing 2 weeks ago....blah blah...something about singing a Ronan Keating song. So the script tells everyone nice and early that he is NOT with Caitriona ✅️

Later on in the panel, he mentioned that he "was at the theatre in London the week earlier" watching a play. Huh? Getting his timeline confused? Interesting titbit, I thought. Who would he go to the theatre with whilst in London? Who else likes to go to the theatre? Who have we seen him go to the theatre with before? Ding ding ding!!

One of the first things he spoke about (umprompted) and imo was part of his speaking program, was that Caitriona is back home in Scotland doing prep work and will be directing this season. He said that he spoke to her recently and that she is cold and miserable back home. No one seemed to give a shit. The women were there for their Jamie. Sam read the crowd. He understood.

Sam tried to bring Cait into the conversation again saying something like "Where's Claire?....Caitriona isn't here". Again crickets from the audience.

He said that he auditioned with a lot of Claire's, but they couldn't find the right fit and that nobody was as brilliant as Caitriona.

It sounded like he genuinely missed her.

He spoke of his audition with Cait, saying they were very physical and were almost wrestling each other. He said he was sweating all over her and that his sweat was on her. The crowd still only wanted to hear about their Jamie. I think Sam relished in being cheeky in saying that she wore his sweat that day.

Someone asked about "how do you kiss and make out with a costar and then just carry-on. Isn't it awkward"? Sam responded generally initially, saying that there's lots of checking in with the person and apologising afterwards (in a joking fashion). Then that prompted him to start talking about Cait saying that he has also "snotted" all over Cait and exchanged many body fluids with her (in an acting context presumably)and that there's nothing really left to do together that they haven't already done. I was like "whoooaa wtf Sam?". Shooketh that he said that really. The silence from the crowd was palpable. They really didn't want to hear about Cait and Sam and their shared bodily fluids whilst 'acting'. He is THEIR fantasy man. Not Caitriona's. Silence from the audience. Sam already knew that the crowd were Sam onlies but he loved telling this story. Relished in it imo. He loved the double entendre. It was an unrehearsed, unscripted conversation as it resulted from an audience question. I concluded it was an act of defiance on his behalf. That's what it felt like to me.

Steve the convention agent guy, was always bringing it back to Single Sam. "I worry how are you going to get a date" said Steve. With Sam understanding the prompt ...."I worry too" says Sam. Bachelor narrative secured ✅️

Steve spruked the Bachelor narrative again to Sam's thirsty and adoring fans....."Sam you remind me of that old show where everyone has to guess which bachelor is going to come out of the mystery door". And that's when I knew with 100 percent certainty that the bachelor talk was a ruse. It was so contrived and performative. I smiled to myself. The women in the crowd were eating it up.

Another thing that stood out to me was when Sam was searching for the right terminology when talking about Cait. "My......co star" huge pause.

"I love you Claire" is the line he randomly chose to say when explaining his acting.

When asked how he has time to foster friendships and spend time with his family he talked around it. Avoided the question and kept it about his friendships saying that they are strong friendships that endure. He diverged and started talking about how he still has his core friendships that he had when he was bunking and sharing an apartment/house with them in London when he was younger. The veneer was up. Inpenetrable.

At another point in the panel Sam asked "How many Sheila's are there here"? LOL. I found that amusing.

Now this next part captured my attention the most. It had a weird feeling (energy) around it . Sam gave off a weird energy. Almost hostile. Again that's just what I felt.

Someome from the audience named Toni with an "I" was selected to ask a question. I can't remember what the question was but Sam made a really big deal about her being named Toni. "There's always a Tony have you noticed"? Why is there always a Tony"? He said. He didn't want to drop it. He placed a little too much emphasis on it. I was laughing silently but Sam's double entendre didn't go unnoticed by me. Everyone else was clueless or at least that's how it appeared to me. Was that an Easter egg dropped by Sammy?

Asked about what does he do for self care, he seemed to struggle answering that too. He talked in circles about his way points hike and how he's learning how to live in the moment. There's that wall again.

There were many other things discussed of course but I thought I'd focus on the things that shed light on his situation and that resonated with me.

So my closing Analysis? Sam is controlled. He peforms. He caters. He's intelligent and in tune with people and aims to please but is private. Sunday just reaffirmed and solidified my beliefs. Caitriona snatched up that hard working gem of a man quick smart!

[furuyalover]

Hey bae! Can I request the song Something Stupid by Frank Sinatra, with any of the Haikyuu boys for your music event? - 🫧

somethin’ stupid | mars & her music event

"and then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like 'i love you'"

— ft. iwaizumi hajime

AN: tysm for ur request! this was so much fun to write & ty for joining my event! for any readers int in participating, more info ab it here ! also this is on the longer side so cozy up, & get ready for some iwa fluff

"i know i stand in line, until you think you have the time to spend an evening with me..."

you were at a semi-formal event put on by your school, aoba johsai. despite the amount of people there, the ballroom in which the ball took place had a tranquil atmosphere. seeing your classmates in an elegant manner, looking at some of them and thinking oh wow they clean up nice, it was a rather lovely change of pace. however, only one student in particular really caught your eye. that student, of course, was the one and only, iwaizumi hajime.

he looked radiant. you've really never seen him in anything outside of his school and volleyball uniforms, so he was really a sight for sore eyes. the suit he wore was well-tailored, but you could still make out the defined muscles on his biceps. he was so elegant and well mannered in this setting, and it certainly helped that his best friend sitting next to him was being as obnoxious as usual, making iwaizumi's polished manner even more apparent,

hajime also had his eyes set on someone, you. he only ever sees you at school, in your required uniforms, so he was stricken with adornment when he saw you tonight. he had always admired you, had even a secret crush on you, (which of course was obvious to the whole volleyball team based off how much he mentions you) seeing you dressed so lovely, and looking even more beautiful than usual, how could he not gaze at you like that? but when he saw you being approached by other students, telling you how gorgeous you looked, his insecurities got the best of him. why should i even try? they already have all these other guys romancing them, i wouldn't even stand a chance, he would mumble to himself. oh how little the boy knows..

"i practice everyday to find some clever lines to make the meaning come through. but then i think i'll wait til the evening gets late, and i'm alone with you..."

after talking it over with his best friend who sat beside him, tooru oikawa, he decided to just say screw it and muster up enough courage to talk to you. he & oikawa practiced exactly what he's going to say to you, since tonight will be the night he finally confesses to you. after ensuring that his words will be perfect, he gathers all his confidence to get up, and begin walking to where you're standing & talking to a few classmates.

"the time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue"

he slowly makes his way over to you, being sure that you aren't talking to anyone by the time he approaches you. everything is gonna go perfectly, he'll have the perfect moment to tell what he's been feeling all these months.

after finishing some conversations with friends, out of the corner of your eye you see a familiar face walking towards you. is iwaizumi really coming over here? oh my god this is really happening, shit i hope i look okay. you frantically pat down your hair and clothes, to make sure you hopefully look perfect by the time iwa sees you. when he finally gets to you, you notice something about him is different. he seems more reserved than usual, almost seemingly shy?

"iwaizumi! i didn't know if you were gonna make it today, great to see you!" you say smiling like an idiot. "please, call me hajime. great to see you too, you look stunning." flustered by his affection, you look down smiling to hide your beet red face. hajime is hit with relief because now you hopefully won't see how red he is himself. "hey don't wanna sound weird or anything, but would you wanna step outside with me for a sec? there's something i need to get off my chest." your eyes widened, nervous at what he could possibly have to say. but regardless you nod in agreement as he takes you outside.

the two of you gaze out to the sky, on the balcony just outside the venue of the formal, in partially comfortable partially awkward silence. "so, um, what was it you wanted to say?" you nervously ask to try and break the ever so loud silence. fuck. iwaizumi thought. all his practice with oikawa? yea, that all went out the window because suddenly his mind is going a million miles per minute. he has so many thoughts running through his head, but he just can't seem to find the words, nor the confidence, to voice them. but before you know, the stern and intimidating volleyball player you're used to turns into a rambling mess.

"and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, 'i love you'..."

"i don't really know how to say this, but fuck it i'll just try" he starts. you take a step back to look at him, a little confused, but waiting to hear the rest. "y/n, i really like, maybe even love you. i don't know, i'm bad with feelings, but i do know that you're all i think about. i never shut up about you, and i think you're the most perfect person put on this earth. i know i'm not oikawa, and that you probably have tons of other guys who want you and i probably sound stupid but i jus-" he stops suddenly when realized that you've wrapped your arms around him and engulfed him in a hug. after hesitantly wrapping his muscular arms around you, he relaxes a bit more, and eases into your touch.

with the side of your face resting on his chest, you look up at him beaming. both of you blushing profusely, but neither of you pay any attention to that. after a moment of just staring at each other, you finally say with a smile "you are kinda stupid hajime, i like you too, maybe even love also. i don't know how you haven't picked up on that yet" this just makes iwaizumi pull you in tighter, it feels like all his dreams had just came true.

"oh my god he finally did it" "god it's about time" oikawa and hanamaki groan to each other. yes they watched this whole thing go down for a comfortable distance, partially to make fun of him but also just to support their close friend from afar

reblogs appreciated and admired ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

[saddleups]

𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐑 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒. ↳ 𝐂𝐇. 𝐈𝐈 ( womanly charm )

★ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 . . . 3.8k

★ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 . . . ongoing , part two. ARTHUR MORGAN X F!READER !! 18+ SMUT MDNI !!

★ 𝐂𝐖 . . . wet dream sequence . dirty talk . flirtatious y/n and a very jealous arthur morgan.

★ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 . . . dutch informs arthur and y/n of an upcoming mission , prompting a trip to the tailor where arthur struggles with his growing attraction to y/n. later arthur confesses what he'd witnessed the night prior.

★ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . . gwarsh darn didn't expect my first fic to get that much attention in such a short time !! thank you everyone who liked/reblogged , i hope you enjoy this part as well ... promise arthur and reader will eventually have their fun but we're still building up to it !!!

Beads of sweat roll down entwined bodies, fighting for dominance over each other. Arthur's grip on your wrist is like iron, pinning you to the mattress with a primal strength that leaves you breathless. With a subtle shift, you spread your legs without even realizing it, offering yourself up to him completely. A chuckle rumbles from his lips, "Atta girl" he growls, "you want it this bad?"

Your half-closed eyes lock onto his intense gaze as you nod, barely able to form words. "Yes, Mister Morgan," you whisper, feeling his power and control wash over you.

"Tell me what you want, exactly," he demands, freeing his hands to roam over every curve and dip of your body. His thick fingers glide over your aching core, teasing and taunting your desire.

"I want your hard cock inside me," you whimper, your cheeks burning with arousal. "I want it deep inside my wet pussy." Without hesitation, he enters you, filling you completely with each thrust. The intense pleasure washes over you like a tidal wave, consuming every inch of your being until…

Arthur jolts awake, the dream still vivid in his mind and his body tense with arousal. The night prior had been a blur of desire and frustration. Now in the morning air, it manifested in his dreams. Haunted by your illuminated silhouette, the scene replayed in his mind over and over. Pushing himself off the bed with a groan, the fantasy lingering in his body as he stood. Defeated, Arthur seeks something to jolt him back to reality.

He exists his tent with a stretch of his limbs. Heading towards the nearest barrel of clean water. The camp was just beginning to come back to life. The early morning sun casting long shadows across Clemens Point. Arthur dips his hand into the cold water, splashing his face in an attempt to clear his thoughts. He lingered there for a moment allowing the cool water to wake him fully.

Meanwhile, you'd already been awake for some time, standing by the extinguished campfire as you spoke with Hosea. The old man's calm demeanor had drawn you into a casual conversation, a welcome reprieve from the intensity of the previous night. But your relaxed mood quick shifted when Hosea casually asked, "Has Arthur returned your journal yet?"

Your eyes widen in size, heart nearly skips a beat. "Journal?" you repeated with alarm.

Hosea nodded. "You left it last night. The boy said he'd give it back to ya."

Like a punch to the gut, the realization dawned on you—Arthur had your journal. All the personal thoughts, the details you kept about your travels, about the people you encountered—he had it in his possession. The thought of him reading through it made your stomach twist with embarrassment. Without another word, your eyes scanned the camp until you spotted him, standing by the water barrel.

With a quick motion, you find yourself marching across the camp. Footsteps are quick and purposeful. Arthur looked up just as you approached, a lazy grin spreading across his face as pulled the journal from his coat pocket. He held it up in the air, just out of your reach.

“Lookin’ for this?” Arthur drawled, clearly enjoying the power shift. He swung the journal in the air, smirking. “If 'yer such a good thief, shouldn’t be too hard to steal it back.”

You scowled, the mortification and frustration flaring up inside you. “Give it to me,” you snapped, your tone sharp.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Come and get it, then,” he teased, holding the journal higher. “Or maybe you ain’t as quick as they say?”

Your teeth clenched, your mind racing as you weighed your options. You could feel eyes on the two of you from across the camp, watching this unexpected exchange. Arthur’s teasing was infuriating, but you weren’t about to let him win this little game he was playing.

“Well?” Arthur taunted, still holding the journal out of reach. “What’s it gonna be, princess?”

The journal dangled just out of reach. A mix of humiliation bubbled up inside you. With clenched fists, ready to make a move by force or some clever distraction, in order to get back what belonged to you. Just as your about to act, a sudden hand swiped the journal out of Arthur's grasp.

"Enough," Dutch's voice cut through the tension like a knife. He stood between you and Arthur, holding the journal with a stern expression. His usual charm muted by a fatherly disapointment. "Arthur, we're better than this, aren't we?"

Arthur's smirk faded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Was just havin' a bit of fun."

“Fun’s fine,” Dutch said, his tone lighter but still firm. “But let’s not push our new friend too far on her first day, huh?”

Dutch turned to you, offering the journal with a warm smile. “Here you go,” he said, his voice softer now. “I believe this belongs to you.”

You took the journal, your heart still racing, and quickly stashed it in your satchel, your eyes narrowing at Arthur who only shrugged in response. Relief mixed with the lingering embarrassment, but you didn’t dwell on it too long.

With the journal now returned, Dutch’s mood shifted. His usual air of confidence returned as he addressed both of you. “Now that we’ve had our fun, I’ve got something a little more important on our plate. Saint Denis. We’ve got a job, and I need both of you for it.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed, intrigued but cautious. “What kind of job?”

Dutch folded his arms, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “There’s someone in Saint Denis who’s been making moves. Politician by the name of Alistair Dupont. Heard of him?”

You hadn’t, but Arthur grunted in vague recognition.

“Dupont’s been hosting some fancy gatherings, throwing money around like it’s nothing, buying influence left and right. He’s got half the city’s upper class under his thumb, or so they say. But here’s the thing,” Dutch leaned in slightly, his voice lowering as if revealing a secret. “We don’t know who he’s really working for. Could be a front for Cornwall, the Pinkertons, or worse—someone even bigger.”

You crossed your arms, already sensing where this was heading. “You want us to figure out who’s pulling his strings.”

Dutch nodded, a grin spreading across his face. “Exactly. We need to vet him, see if he’s trouble, and more importantly, if we can get something out of him.”

Arthur sighed, leaning against the barrel. “And how do you suppose we do that? Can’t just waltz into his house and ask for tea.”

Dutch chuckled. “No, Arthur. We’re going to a party. A fancy one. Dupont’s hosting a ball in a few days, and I’ve got a way to get you both in.”

You raised an eyebrow. A ball? This was not what you were expecting. “And we’re supposed to what, make small talk and dig up dirt?”

“Precisely,” Dutch said, nodding with enthusiasm. “It’s not just about what he says—people like Dupont have enemies. Rivals. Allies who can turn into enemies. I want you two to get a feel for the man, see what you can find out about his connections. If we play our cards right, we might be able to leverage his position to our advantage. And if not…” Dutch trailed off, his meaning clear.

Arthur grunted again, though his tone had softened. “And I suppose you think she’ll fit right in with all them fancy folks?”

Dutch’s smile widened, and he turned to you. “She’s quick on her feet. I’ve no doubt she’ll manage. Besides, who better to send to a place full of secrets than someone who knows how to keep ‘em?”

Dutch shifted his weight onto his other foot, "and if that don't work she can just use her… womanly charm."

Both you and Arthur bolt upright without comment. The silence is interrupted with Dutch's laughter, "go to Saint Denis. Get somethin' that'll make you fit in with the fancy folk. The ball is in three days."

You glanced at Arthur, then back at Dutch. The job sounded risky, and you weren’t exactly one for mingling with high society, but this was the West—everything was a gamble. And the promise of a payday, not to mention the opportunity to prove your worth, made you nod in agreement.

“All right,” you said. Arthur shot you a look, his expression unreadable, but he didn’t protest. You could tell he wasn’t thrilled about partnering with you again so soon, especially after the morning’s exchange, but he trusted Dutch’s judgment. And despite his teasing, you could sense that he’d have your back when it mattered.

With the job set and the plan in motion, Dutch left you both standing by the water barrel. You watched him walk off, already mentally preparing for the role you’d need to play. Arthur, meanwhile, shifted his weight and gave you a sideways glance, his teasing from earlier now replaced by something more thoughtful.

“Well,” Arthur said, crossing his arms, “I hope you clean up well. We’re gonna be rubbin’ elbows with a whole different kind of scum.”

You shot him a look, half annoyed, half amused. “I’ll manage. You just try not to get us kicked out before we even get through the door.”

Turning on your heel you make a path toward the exit of the camp,

"Got a horse?" Arthur asks trailing behind you.

"No shit, I have a horse."

"Jus' makin' sure."

The journey to Saint Denis arrived sooner than you expected. As you dismounted your horse, the bustling energy of the city washed over you. You wiped your palms on your trousers, your nerves subtly betraying the calm exterior you tried to maintain. The streets were alive with activity, vendors shouting, carriages rattling by, and people moving in every direction. You kept your face hidden beneath the low brim of your hat, eyes scanning the crowd. A part of you couldn't shake the lingering feeling that today might be the day when the law finally catches up with you. Unlike Arthur who greeted the town with such fearlessness, ready to tackle whatever dared crossed his path.

The two of you made your way through the busy streets toward the tailor shop, weaving through the chaos of the city. When you finally reached the store, it was a stark contrast to the wildness of the world outside. The place was tidy and refined, with elegant fabrics hanging from the walls and mannequins dressed in the latest fashions.

Arthur hung back as the tailor approached you, guiding you to stand on a small platform surrounded by mirrors. You were used to practical clothing, the kind that could withstand the wear and tear of the work you did. Standing still while the tailor fussed over you felt unnatural. He began taking measurements, expertly wrapping the tape around your waist, shoulders, and hips. You stood rigid, feeling out of place, but the tailor moved quickly, pinning fabric here and there, adjusting the fit to highlight your figure.

As the tailor wrapped his measuring tape around your waist, his fingers brushing the fabric as he cinched it tight, he paused, stepping back to get a better look at you. “Ah, yes,” he said, nodding appreciatively. “You’ve got quite the… gifts, miss. This dress will truly highlight them—should be no trouble turning heads at the ball.”

Arthur, who had been leaning casually against the wall, suddenly stiffened. He cleared his throat loudly, a bit too loudly, causing the tailor to glance over with a raised eyebrow. Arthur quickly masked his discomfort, looking away and scratching the back of his neck.

"Ain't no need to get all poetic about it," he muttered under his breath.

Catching a sight of you underneath the rim of his hat, Arthur earned a fleeting glance of your clevage, the lace of your chemise peaking through the low collar of your blouse. His eyes tracked the movement of the tailor’s hands, pulling and adjusting the material until it hugged your curves in ways that your usual rough-and-ready attire never did. For a moment, his mind drifted back to the night before—when he'd caught that glimpse of you through the tent—and now, seeing you like this, the memory flickered in his thoughts, unbidden. He quickly glanced away, focusing instead on the fine stitching of his own jacket as if to shake off the wandering thoughts.

You shot a quick glance at Arthur, catching the way his gaze darted to the floor, a faint blush creeping up his neck. The tailor, seemingly oblivious, continued adjusting the fabric, tucking and pinning around your hips. “Indeed, you’ll be quite the vision,” he said with pride. "The fit is perfect for someone with your… figure. Whoever has you my dear, must be a very lucky man."

Arthur let out another awkward cough, turning slightly so his back was more to the room. “Yeah, well, let’s just get on with it, huh?” he grumbled, still pointedly avoiding looking directly at you.

You stifled a laugh, amused by Arthur's uncharacteristic bashfulness. When you stepped down from the platform, you gave the fabric one last tug, still adjusting to the new feeling of it clinging to your form. Arthur glanced at you, his usual snark nowhere to be found, replaced by an almost sheepish silence.

"Thank you kindly for your time sir" you smiled curtly at the tailor. In response the tailor nods, informing you that the dress should be ready tomorrow afternoon.

Returning to your usual attire, you reunited with Arthur outside the dress shop. The sun was setting, casting a golden hue over the cobblestone streets. The air was crisp, and you could hear the distant murmur of townsfolk going about their evening routines. Arthur shoved his hands into his pockets, kicking a stray pebble along the street.

"We should head back," you suggested.

"Nah, I need a drink first," Arthur replied, his tone more decisive than before.

You sighed, though the thought of a drink at the nearby tavern did sound tempting. The warmth of alcohol might help ease the unease that had settled in your chest, and perhaps it would give you a chance to tease Arthur about his earlier awkwardness.

"Alright," you relented, falling into step beside him as you made your way towards the tavern.

The interior of the tavern was warm and dimly lit, the flickering light of oil lamps casting shadows on the walls. The smell of ale and roasted meat filled the air, mingling with the low hum of conversation. Arthur led you to a quiet corner, where you both settled into worn, wooden chairs. The bartender, a burly man with a thick beard, approached with a knowing grin.

"What can I get ya?" he asked, wiping a glass with a rag.

"Two ales," Arthur replied, leaning back in his chair.

As you waited for your drinks, you couldn't help but notice how Arthur seemed to relax once inside the tavern. The tension that had lingered since the dress shop began to dissipate, replaced by his usual easygoing demeanor. You decided to seize the opportunity to tease him.

"So," you began, leaning forward slightly, "having trouble keeping your eyes off me today?"

Arthur's brows furrowed, and he shot you a look that was half-offended, half-amused. "I ain't got no trouble keepin' my eyes off ya," he retorted, though his cheeks turned a faint shade of pink.

You chuckled, taking a sip of your ale when it arrived. "Sure you don't," you teased, nudging him playfully with your elbow. "But maybe next time, you could try not being so obvious about it."

"Eh, don't flatter yourself." He mutters into his drink.

A scoff escapes from you, dripping with disdain. While Arthur drowns his sorrows on your right, another man takes refuge on the wooden chair to your left. You turn slightly to examine him, assessing every detail of his appearance. He fits the mold of your typical prey - a wealthy older man seeking attention from pretty women.

Unbuttoning the first few buttons of your blouse, you purposefully catch Arthur's attention. "What the hell are you doing, girl?" he snaps, his drunken haze interrupted by your subtle seduction.

"Showing you what I'm good at, Mr. Morgan," you purr, using his last name as both a taunt and a reminder of your position in this dangerous game.

The honorific sends a jolt through him, bringing back memories of his dream from earlier this morning. His cheeks flush with embarrassment and anger, but he can't tear his eyes away. Is this what Dutch meant by "womanly charm"?

Turning your back on Arthur with deliberate intention, you surrender all of your attention to the rich gentleman beside you. "My my, if it isn't the most handsome man in the entire west," you flirt effortlessly, earning the man's full attention without any effort at all. He leans closer to you, drawn in by your seductive aura. And all Arthur can do is watch in disgust as a hint of jealousy begins to stir in the pit of his stomach.

The man introduces himself as Alistair Dupont, and to Dutch's luck, he is completely enthralled by you. The drinks continue to flow and you use every weapon in your arsenal to keep Alistair's attention solely on you. Picking up your ale and purposely allowing a small stream to trail down your lips and chin before finally disappearing between your cleavage with a suggestive moan. Both men salivate at the sight, but Alistar has no idea of the intimate knowledge Arthur possesses. He doesn't know about the finger that traced up your pronounced cleavage, or the one that explored the wetness between your legs the night before. The same fingers that Arthur fantasized about gripping his hard cock. Arthur squeezes his thigh with such force, it's a miracle he didn't tear through the fabric. He nearly lunges forward, ready to grab your wrist and tear you away from your seat.

"Excuse us now," he growls.

"Hey!" you protest, but Arthur's grip on your wrist is like a vice, making it difficult to break free. Before he can drag you away from the bar, Alistair grabs onto your other wrist in a desperate attempt to keep your attention. In one swift motion, he slips a folded paper into your palm before releasing his grip. "I said come on, woman," Arthur grunts, tugging you forcefully off the stool while you give Alistair a coy goodbye wave.

You walk alongside Arthur, your heart still pounding from the reckless game you’d just played, you unfold the crumpled piece of paper in your hand. Inside, you find an invitation to the ball and… a hotel key. Before you can react, Arthur snatches the key from your grasp.

His sudden, erratic behavior gives you whiplash. You're not sure if he's drunk or just being difficult, but either way, it's hard to tell if arguing with him is worth the trouble.

“I ain’t playin’ games with you, boy,” you say, your voice low and steady, masking your frustration. “Give it back. Now.”

Arthur's eyes glint with something—defiance, maybe even jealousy. “Or what?” he says, his tone laced with challenge.

It sounds like a dare.

You stare up at him, your patience fraying. “Or… nothing, Arthur,” you finally sigh, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over you. “Dupont is our target. He’s the person I need to get close to if we’re going to make Dutch happy and get what we need.”

Arthur's expression darkens, and he takes a swig from the bottle of liquor in his other hand. “So, what’s the plan, huh? You wooin’ him? Flirtin’ your way to answers?” His voice is sharper now, his words dripping with a bitterness you hadn’t expected. “Dutch didn’t say this was your job alone.”

You bristle at his accusation, realizing where this is coming from. “It’s not my job alone,” you snap back, crossing your arms defensively. “But you know how people like Dupont work. He’ll talk more freely to someone he thinks he can charm. I’m just using what I’ve got to get him to open up. It’s a part of the job.”

Arthur’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, he looks like he might argue more, but instead, he grunts and stumbles forward, the hotel key still in his grip. “Yeah, well, I ain’t just sittin’ around while you play nice with some rich bastard,” he mutters, starting to walk off, his steps uneven.

Before Arthur can stumble too far, he pauses, his back still half-turned to you. He seems to hesitate for a moment, as if wrestling with something in his mind. Then, with a grunt, he spins back toward you, his expression hard but his eyes revealing something else—something deeper.

“There’s somethin’ else,” he says, voice low and rough. His gaze flicks to the ground, then back up to you. “Last night… I saw somethin’ I wasn’t supposed to.”

You frown, your stomach twisting as a knot of confusion and dread forms in your chest. “What the hell are you talkin’ about, Arthur?”

He exhales heavily, the weight of the words he's about to say clearly gnawing at him. “When I went to return your journal. I saw you… in your tent. You weren’t exactly… dressed.” He shifts uncomfortably, and despite his rough demeanor, there's a vulnerability in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. “You were… you know… busy. And I—hell, I didn’t mean to—"

The realization hits you like a punch to the gut, leaving you speechless, your mouth slightly open but no words coming out. Heat floods your face, and for a split second, you wish you could vanish into thin air. Arthur’s gaze holds steady on you, almost daring you to respond, but all you can feel is the sudden rush of mortification and shock.

“I wasn’t spying, I swear it,” he adds quickly, his voice gruff but tinged with something almost like guilt. “I turned away. But I ain’t been able to stop thinkin’ about it.”

Your breath catches in your throat. The confession hangs heavy between you, the weight of it suffocating the air.

“Arthur…” you manage to say, but the words falter, your voice barely a whisper. You're at a complete loss for how to respond, a thousand emotions swirling through you—embarrassment, anger, confusion, and something else you’re not ready to name.

But before you can say anything more, Arthur lets out a harsh breath, shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of the moment. “Forget I said anything,” he mutters, turning abruptly on his heel, the hotel key still in his hand.

“Where are you goin’?” you call after him, your voice rising in irritation.

Arthur stumbles over his feet, but manages to catch himself, waving the key in the air. “Gonna go piss in that rich man’s hotel,” he slurs, his words barely coherent.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

[citadelofmythoughts]

Yang attending the vacuo ball in a suit still a bit unsure of herself, fixing her bow tie then blake appears with a "i like your bow, it goes great with your shirt 😊"

She immediately sets yang at ease

"I hated making Yang wait for me." Blake thought as she approached Shade's ballroom. "But I really wanted this dress to be a surprise." as she entered she scanned the room and caught sight of Ruby and Weiss talking around the punchbowl. Ruby noticed and, grinning, pointed over at Yang, leaning against one of the room's white pillars, fidgeting with her tie.

Blake blushed at the sight of the girl she loved dressed in a tailored black suit, with a golden vest and a purple bowtie that matched Blake's eyes.

Carefully she approached, making sure to keep out of Yang's view until she was right next to her. "Hey handsome, loving this look."

Yang jumped for a second and then beamed down at her with happiness, her blush matching Blake's. "Hey yourself, gorgeous. I...can see why you sent me on ahead. That dress is a nice surprise. You look amazing!"

Blake twirled in appreciation. "You clean up pretty good, too." and she noticed Yang fidgeting even more and put her arms around her shoulders. "I like your bow." She said as she ran one finger along it. "It goes great with your shirt."

Yang snorted with laughter. "I can't believe you remember that dumb line!"

Blake impulsively kissed her partner. "I'd never forget the first words the love of my life ever said to me."