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hiddenwritingsintheworld · 8 months

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Welcome to SunnyVale Oneshot

(Guyyyyysss Im literally just writing and posting whatever pops in my head at this point My Alpha is about two paragraphs from being done :P Be watching for it!! Cruel Summer Ch. 2 should be finished by the weekend too annnd im gonna work on Midnight Rain Ch. 2! So lots goin on! :D anywho, I love Trailer Park Boys and have been watching it on repeat for WEEKS. So I just had this cute idea and figured I'd write it since I cant sleep! :P )

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“Come on Bubs! Hurry up! We’re going to be late!” Julian yelled as Bubbles said goodbye to his kitties. “Boys, boys, boys!” J-Roc ran over across the road toward them. “Yall aint never gonna believe this! We got a reunion comin!!!” J-Roc grinned as Ricky looked at him, “what in the fuck are you talkin about J-Roc?”

Julian took a sip of his drink as a large black bus pulled into Sunnyvale Trailer park.”So listen I heard from a friend of a friend that Y/N was in town. Rumor has it, she's gonna come do a tour of the park.” J-Roc said looking from Bubbles and Ricky, to which they all glanced at Julian. “What?” he snapped at them. “Well Julian…last time you and Y/N saw each other…she was tellin you she was leavin and you were ...well you were gonna ask her to marry you, until she……said……that….and you…..well…you know….broke her heart,” Bubbles said as an awkward silence filled the air. Julian sighed loudly and took a bigger drink of his drink as the large black bus drove slowly and carefully down the road, before coming to a stop.

The air brake let out and the door opened, a few moments passed and suddenly, Julian felt like his heart had stopped and dropped into his stomach. Everything seemed to move in slow motion for him as you stepped off the bus. You wore a pair of suede thigh high heeled boots, a pair of black tights, they were the sheer kind that made Julian’s knees weak, you had on a burnt orange tight mini skirt on, and a black long sleeved shirt. When you looked up, your hair was curled in loose big curls, the wind lightly blowing your hair. You suddenly got the biggest grin on your face and darted toward the group of guys standing there. “Oh my gosh!!!”

You laughed as you jumped hugging Ricky, the guy who was like the dumb, protective big brother you never got to have. You don’t know how many times Ricky saved your ass from getting into trouble either with Jim Lahey, the trailer park supervisor, or the cops whenever Julian and Ricky came up with some stupid plan. “Hey bugz!” Ricky had started calling you bugz when you guys were just kids, because you always had a ladybug or butterfly landing on you. He said you attracted bugs and teased you about it alot.

Next to whisk you into a bear hug was your very bestest friend Bubbles; which the guys didn’t know but you still talked to regularly. “I’ve missed you bubs!” you laughed as he pinched at your belly “Whos got your belly?” “Don’t touch my fuckin belly bubs!” you both laughed again as he hugged you one more time. “I’ve missed you around here Y/N, we all have.” Bubbles said as you both pulled apart. You smiled and looked at Julian, “Hey Julian,” you said, willing to step up and hug him, but the longer the silence went on, the more awkward it got. “Hey fucktard, are you gonna speak or did your brain not get enough words movin arounds in there?” Ricky smacked his arm as you laughed softly. You’d forgotten just how Ricky talked, sometimes you really missed living here, other times, you wish you could have brought them with you, but you knew they would never leave their beloved trailer park.

Julian let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d held since you turned and stared at him. “Wow,” he whispered to himself, but it was loud enough that all of you heard him. You felt a small blush creep up your cheeks, “Still drinking rum huh?” you asked him, smiling some as he cleared his throat, taking a large drink, and not the usual sip. “Oh, I brought presents! Give me one second!” You turned your hair flipping around, wafting the smell of your shampoo, mixed with your perfume all around. “Hey Mike!” You hollered while walking toward the bus, “Can you grab that blue duffle bag in the back for me?” you asked as you stood just a few feet from the guys.

That smell hit Julian like a brick house as he closed his eyes, “I can’t do this.” he mumbled to Bubbles and Ricky before he turned and stormed back to his trailer, slamming the front door shut. He leaned back against it before flinging his glass at the opposite wall, letting it shatter and liquor spill to the ground.

You turned at the sound of the door slamming and frowned. “Why’d he leave? I have a gift for him too.” you smiled a little awkwardly at Ricky and Bubbles. “Uh, I think he had to um, go, look at a book or something, anyways what’d you bring us Y/N?” Bubbles asked as you gave him a soft smile. It wasn’t easy for you either to see Julian, that night before you left played over in your mind a lot.

******

15 years ago

You rode your bike down the street, the sun setting on your last few days of summer, you couldn’t wait to tell Julian, he was going to be so proud of you. You rode up to the stairs of his trailer and put on the kick stand before jogging up the stairs and letting yourself inside. “Jules? You home?” you called out, but not hearing a word. You pushed out your lips and walked toward the back where his bedroom was, “Yeah Ricky. I fuckin know. I'm nervous as hell the way it is. Dont you think I know that you fucking idiot?” He was on the phone in his bedroom. “Listen I’m busy tonight but I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Just don’t fuck up,” he hung up the phone and turned around to see you leaning on the doorway smiling softly. “Hey-how long you been standin there?” he asked as you smiled and shrugged. “Long enough to know you’re nervous about something...you two boys doin another deal?” you asked as he sat down on the bed, pulling you to straddle his lap. “Don’t worry about it sweetheart, what are you doin here this late?” you smiled, kissing him softly. “I have something to tell you,” you whispered against his lips.

*****

You’d given the boys their gifts, Bubbles got a rocket ship, directly from NASA with his own spacesuit and a couple of real moon rocks and Ricky had gotten a customized glass bong. “Take care of that Ricky…..I figured you’d like it.” you laughed as they ran off starting to play with Bubbles rocket. You took this chance to slip away and go to Julians, knocking softly on the door.

A few moments later the door opened and Julian stood there, hair wet from a shower, slicked back by the water, sweatpants hanging low on his hips with a towel around his shoulders. “Y/N. Hey, uh, what are you doin here?” he asked as you forced a smile. “Uh, I have a gift for you.” you said patting the duffle bag that hung off your shoulder. “Oh, you didn’t need to get me anything.” he said as he stepped aside and let you come in.

Walking in, you stood awkwardly as he closed the door and moved toward the couch. “You can come sit down ya know?” he said, looking at you. You nodded and walked over sitting next to him. “Um,” you cleared your throat and dug around in the duffle bag. “Sorry, I would have wrapped it better, but I made a special stop for it.” you handed the box to him, watching him look confused, you smiled as he opened it.

Inside, laid a very old and special bottle of Rum, Harewood Barbados 1780, to be exact. “Holy…fucking…shit.” he looked at you, a look of shock on his face. “Oh! It wasn’t a big deal….I know a guy who knows a guy,” you laughed softly. “You know someone who owns a $29,000 bottle of Rum?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as you smiled bashfully. “I know two guys now who own a bottle of $29,000 Rum.” you said as he smiled watching you grab another box. “Can’t drink expensive rum without new glasses.” you said handing him the black box.

Julian smiled down at the gifts in his lap, before the memories came rushing back. “Listen…Y/N….I meant to write back…when you wrote me that letter….I just…got busy…and I didn’t…know exactly what to say.” You shook your head waving a hand. “Not a big deal….I moved on, I’m sure you did too. We’re adults now and that was 15 years ago so, you know, what's in the past,” you said looking down.

Julian put his gifts aside and moved closer to you. “I’ve followed your career,” he said smiling as you looked at him. “What?” you tried not to laugh. “I doubt I sing the kinda music you like,” you laughed as he did, “While that’s true, I do listen to your music. You’re talented. You always have been…” he said softly as you stared at him, “Julian…I’m sorry I left. But tomorrow I’m going to show everyone where I was raised and where I lived with my parents. And I want you and the guys to be in the video.” you smiled as he chuckled “I’m sure we can make that happen.”

Julian got you both a drink, and you began to get caught up on each other’s lives. “See Ricky…I’m tellin you that was a genius idea.” Bubbles whispered as they peaked in Julians windows. “He’ll finally tell her after all these years.”

You were trying to catch your breath from laughing so hard when Julian put a hand on your leg. You looked at him as he stared at you, smiling softly. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered as you nodded. “I’ve missed you too.” A few more moments of staring at each other passed before he grabbed you and pulled you in close, kissing you deeply.

After a few moments, Julian pulled away and sighed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” he got up running a hand through his hair. “Fuck!” he yelled causing you to jump. “I should go.” you said quietly as you gathered your stuff and stood up. “No, please don’t go,” he sighed “just…..wait here.” he walked back to his bedroom, returning a few moments later, his signature black t-shirt clinging to the muscles that ran through his chest and stomach. “You weren’t the only one keeping a secret….” he pulled his hand out of his pocket, a black velvet box resting in his hands. “It’s nothing fancy…..I got it from Mrs. Peterson. When she died, she willed it to me, along with some money and other stuff…but….” he opened it, revealing the small, beautiful gold ring inside. The tiny cluster of diamonds sat directly in the middle. You stared down at it, unsure of what was going to happen, or what would have. “.....you….you wanted to marry me?” you whispered as he nodded. “But…then you said everything you said….and….” you looked at him, your brows pulling down together as confusion took over your face. “You lied to me didn't you?” you asked as he sighed. “I panicked, I didn't know what else to do…” you scuffed, shaking your head as you backed away and grabbed your stuff. “I can’t believe you Julian…you lied to me…you swore you never would.” you shook your head. “Whoa, you lied to me too.” Julian said as you looked appalled at him. “Are you kidding me? I didn’t lie to you, Julian. I WAS pregnant when I left. I took the damn test. And guess what? I rehearsed through the miscarriage, I performed when and where I needed to, so now I can go around and buy $30,000 bottles of Rum to impress someone I was head over heels in love with, in the hopes that I might get a tiny taste of what I used to have in life before I lost it all!” you yelled before you stormed out.

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elijahlittle · 1 year

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I have been scouring this fucking app for Julian fics, never really occurred to I can just request some lol.

So yeah, if you're up for it I've got a little plot/trope set up that'd id love to see. Outsider(fem)reader/julian.

Something along the lines of a reader moving into the park from the southern us, new to Canada and parks in general. As an outsider, Julian expected you to be trouble or judgemental, so he acts like a dick to you at first. Later on, he starts to see instead how kind you are to everyone, understanding and totally up for doing ppl favors even when there's nothing for you in the end. This makes him feel real guilty for bein an ass to you, and also makes him start to feel other things towards u.. Take the fic in whatever direction you'd I wanna see u work ur magic

( + no pressure 2 write it ofc!!)

pairing: julian/fem!reader fandom: trailer park boys tags: smut (cis man/cis woman), fluff, a bit of angst, idk this is one of my more normal ones, heavy plot some porn (i kind of felt more plot focused with this one), julian is kind of hung (he gives me big dick energy) author's note: i'm much more of a ricky kinda guy myself but when i got this request, i got really fucking excited. i loved the idea. i will say, this fic isn't structured traditionally. it's very dialogue heavy and kind of leaves some things up to the imagination. i wanted to establish relationships between the reader and other people in the park as well as share some of julian's private conversations about her. i'm really proud of the way this has turned out, though i'm sorry if it's not the interpretation you might have been hoping for (i'm a little insecure about the way i interpret storylines). i hope you like it, though. i worked hard on it and i'm pretty sure it's the longest julian/reader fic currently on the internet so i'm going to take that fucking win rn. also, i actually live in the southern united states. (fun fact: i'm looking to move because i'm a trans man and life here is kind of ass if you're trans), so i gave the reader a backstory that's kind of unique to what a woman in 1999-2000 would have gone through. i'm not satisfied with the ending though, i'm sorry if this fic is a little lackluster, but we can only go up from here i guess. text blocking this shit was a fucking BITCH. word count: 6,442

everything i've ever let go of has claw marks on it.

The cultural climate of Sunnyvale Trailer Park wasn't exactly the most inviting. There were people who lived in the park and then there was everyone else. For the most part, newcomers never lasted more than a few weeks. The bottle kids drove away the weakest among them, but if those kids weren't effective usually Ricky's antics drove away the remaining lot. Sure, there were a few people here and there who moved in quietly, but those were usually the kind of people that minded their own business because lot rent was low enough for them to just ignore Lahey.

But in general, new people were not welcome. Especially know-it-all hipsters trying to live the simple life by casting away their possessions in an expensive storage unit and downsizing to a more humble trailer. Those were the kinds of guys that gave up quickly. Plus, new people threatened the balance of park politics. For the most part, Julian was well-liked and well-respected among the others due to his caring nature and dedication to his loved ones. He protected his own. And if there was one thing Julian didn't like, it was newcomers coming into the park without already knowing someone in it.

"Barb, I really think you should reconsider letting this girl in. I mean, you don't even know who she is."

"Julian, this is a business, not a family estate. Her credit was just below decent, she has an okay-paying job, and paid three months of rent in advance. From a business perspective, she seems like she'll be a reliable tenant. It's a good thing you've grown close with your community, but you have to remember at the end of the day, this trailer park is here to make money. Whatever fit of paranoia you're suffering through, deal with it on your own time. Next time you come here with a complaint, make sure it's a business one."

And just like that, Barb had shooed Julian off. What more could he say to that? Well, he had a lot more to say to that but she didn't want to listen. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, she only guided him further to the door. If Julian thought he was the one who ran this trailer park, he had another thing coming for him that's what. This dump needed more reliable tenants - normal folks who didn't like to get into trouble. Barb was trying to turn the park's image around.

"Julian, I just don't understand why you're so against this lady stayin' here. You know I'm no fan of newcomers myself, but she's been mindin' her own. She actually keeps her yard clean, which is pretty fuckin' nice if you ask me. It's nice to pass a yard that doesn't have a million fuckin' pieces of trash thrown all over the front. She even has one of those pink fuckin' yard flamingos in her yard. It's so bright and colorful. There ain't nothin' wrong with a little bit of color, Julian. Ain't nothin' wrong with a little bit of change."

"Are you even listening to yourself talk Bubbles? Can you hear what you're saying? You're saying change for this park is good. Who knows what she believes in. She might hate dope growers, she may be workin' with Lahey, she could get nosy and bust us for dope and you know Ricky and I are growin' a lot of dope -"

"- I know, I've seen that big fuckin' setup you got in that fuckin' trailer in that shitty little lot -"

"- so then Bubbles you should know that new people aren't good. We can't trust new people, especially not now. Especially not when we're so close to selling them to those prison guards and retiring. A stranger could compromise the whole thing. Remember those bible scammers that came through here? I've learned my lesson since then and I'm not tryna repeat old mistakes."

"Jesus Murphy Julian, you need to calm down. Those fuckin' assholes were obviously scammers, it's not like this lady is goin' door to door scammin' people."

"Sure maybe she's not taking advanced orders on bibles Bubbles, but she is goin' in and out of everyone's house doin' favors for them. Why does she need to see the inside of everyone's house? Do you think she's lookin' for something?"

"Have you ever stopped to think that maybe she's just a nice person doin' a nice thing? Nice people exist. You've been dealin' with dope and crime and jail so much that it's like you forgot how to trust someone. All you think about is dope and how you're going to protect it from everyone else."

"You're only defendin' her because she brings you boxes of canned cat foods for your cats. She's buyin' you off and you don't even know it."

"So what if she's helpin' me take care of my kitties? My kitties are the most important things to me and unlike you, she fuckin' knows that. If someone's offering to help take care of my precious little kitties, who the fuck am I to say no?"

"Bubbles, look -"

"No, no, nevermind." Bubbles tucks a gray cat further into his arms, his posture becoming more rigid. It's clear that he's done with the conversation, no longer interested in trying to hammer commonsense into Julian's brain. He couldn't see past his own paranoia and it was infuriating. In Julian's mind, everyone in the world was out to get him - even the nice lady across the street who helped his friend support his kitties. "You just don't get it, Julian. I'm goin' back home, come talk to me when you get it."

Julian was still convinced he was right about this girl. If the bottle kids didn't run you out, he'd just take matters into his own hands. He didn't care whether or not Bubbles helped. Julian was a man of many connections, and even if he couldn't find someone else to get the job done he had no qualms with taking care of the situation himself.

"I mean, if you think that lady's dangerous then you know I'm gonna follow you Julian 'cause you got the brains and stuff behind the projector, but I just gotta let you know I'm still workin' on my grade ten so whatever idea you have you got to make sure it's not illegal 'cause I can't go back to jail, not right before Trinity's birthday. That means we can't do any property damage or breaking and entering or any shit like that."

"I promise you Ricky we're not gonna go back to jail, we're just gonna annoy the shit out of her until she leaves. I was thinkin' maybe you and Cory and Trevor could host like a really loud party across the street tomorrow night, you know - something to keep her awake. If we get a noise complaint, we'll just shut it down, but then once the cops leave we'll start it back up again. We'll do this for a few nights until she finally decides to move out."

"That's a pretty fucking good idea, that's smart. Plus, since it's a party we can get drunk and high."

It's 2 a.m. and that fucking party is still going. There were several times you considered calling in a noise complaint but you decided that it was a better idea to just wait it out. It had to end at some point and overall, it was never a good idea to get involved with parties like that because sometimes they got out of a hand, and you were too smart to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Though when you stepped outside to 'check your mailbox' - spy on the party still going on into the early hours of the morning - you find yourself tripping over something. You stumble onto your hands and knees and it's only when you pull yourself up do you really get a good look at the man passed out by your mailbox. It's Ricky, and he's mumbling things almost incoherently. He mutters something about dope, bitches, Trinity, more bitches, Lucy, and good booze. It's a pathetic way to be, but you can't help but feel bad for you.

You use the toe of your shoe to rock his face awake. Ricky sputters before waking up in a drunk panic. He's angry and yelling incoherently, but your promise of a hot shower and a hot sandwich satiates his anger. He struggles his way through a shower, though almost slips a few times. He eats hand to mouth, chewing loudly, and drunk conversation ensues. He shares a lot with you - stuff he probably wouldn't have shared sober. He eventually passes out, not remembering much in the morning. That morning you share breakfast and a little bit about each other. He tried to hate you, he really did, but you were charismatic in a friendly way. There weren't any ulterior motives, you just enjoyed conversation.

"I don't know Julian, she seems fine to me. I mean, she's not all that bad. Her yard is pretty clean and you know, she has that pink little flamingo in her yard and honestly it's pretty fuckin' cute. I mean yeah she's kinda annoying and I hate that fuckin' southern fuckin' cowboy accent she fucking has but whatever. I think you're gettin' worked up over nothin'. You've been so busy tryna push out this lady who hasn't done nothin' wrong to you while I'm over here slavin' away watchin' after these fuckin' dope plants and tryin' to study for my grade ten all while play peepin' tom spy guy on some poor fuckin' lady."

"You're just saying that 'cause she let you spend the night and made you breakfast."

"You know what I sure as fuck I am! She made me breakfast and kept me from sleepin' on the fuckin' ground drunk as piss and let me use her shower and shit and I didn't even have to put out! It's not like I trust her or anything like that - I didn't talk about dope or nothin' like that at all." That was the truth. "It's just at this point anything is better than fucking Cory and Trevor. I'm not sayin' you gotta like her or trust her, but she's not all that bad Julian. Maybe if you actually got to fuckin' know her like I have you'd see that you're just being a paranoid dickbag."

"You know what Ricky, you don't anything about her. You're just seeing what she wants you to see. But I'm smart, so I see right through it -"

"Come on Julian don't be like that -"

"- and since nobody is going to take care of this fucking situation then I guess I'll have to."

Julian felt like everyone around him was failing him. Nobody else seemed to feel the same way he did about your existence in the trailer park. As each day passed, Julian grew more overtly snide. When approaching Ricky and Bubbles, Julian never took the time to acknowledge you. It was obvious that he was just being an ass, so you opted to ignore it, preferring not to fight. Silence was Julian's strongest weapon. But as the days ticked by, the tension between you and Julian only seemed to mount itself higher.

It's not like you inherently disliked Julian. In fact, you liked to believe that there was good in everyone and you prided yourself in your ability to be able to pull even the toughest people out of their shell. However, Julian was no easy project. Every time you tried to approach him, he simply brushed you off. You weren't even sure that the two of you had even exchanged any greetings. He hadn't even said hello. So when trying to talk to him didn't work, you simply tried to stay out of his way. This was frustrating for Julian because what he wanted you to do was to blow up and make it a big ordeal. But you didn't. You simply kept to yourself and resumed helping others around the park without complaints.

There were times where Julian thought about approaching you in the way Julian thinks about approaching any pretty thing in a summer dress that talks to him. But he remains strong in the face of adversity. Gone were the days of chasing anything in a dress. He had a dope business to worry about.

But sometimes the thought would creep up onto Julian ever so slowly. Sometimes, he'd get this kind of fantasy in his head - especially on the Sunday afternoons you'd spend gently pushing yourself back and forth in your rocking chair, enjoying the summer sunlight. He could think of a million ways you two could enjoy the afternoon together, but he often pushed the thought out of his head. He had a park to protect. Friends to protect.

"You know, you have some real nerve comin' up here in this trailer park and putting on a show like you're doing."

You look up from the rocking chair you were gently pushing yourself back and forth in and offer Julian a small smile.

"So you're Julian?"

Julian can't help but be a bit enamored with your slight southern drawl. It sounds like you're somewhere from the deep southern United States - one of those more rural provinces like Texas or Alabama. He can't quite pinpoint the accent, but he secretly finds it endearing.

"And how do you know that?"

"I mean, with how much you do for the people here it's kind of hard not to know who you are. Plus, Ricky and Lucy both never seem to shut up about you. You know, if I didn't know any better I'd say they're both in love with you or something. Also, yesterday you came to pick up Ricky and he pointed right at you and said well, there's Julian, see ya later. I just put two and two together."

"I'm not here to make small talk, (name)."

"Then what are you here to do, Julian?"

There's silence. What is he here to do. There wasn't anything that he could reasonably do and he wasn't the terrorizing type if he didn't have to be. Fuck, he had even promised that his greasy trouble-causing days were over. But here he was, standing at the edge of the patio stairs, contemplating whether or not he should threaten a woman.

"I'm just here to ask you about your intentions with Ricky, that's all."

You can't help but laugh out loud at the comment. "Oh, please. There's nothing going on between us."

Julian knows that because if there was something going on between you and Ricky, Ricky wouldn't shut up about it and the whole park would know. But he's trying to be covert about his intent to interrogate you.

"Yeah, well . . . there better not be . . . Ricky's a good guy and I'd really hate to see him get hurt . . ."

"Why are you really here, Julian?"

Julian stands in silence, thoughtfully cradling his glass in his hand as he tries to come up with a clever lie - but it's hard to think when he catches a glimpse of your thighs pressed together underneath your thin summer dress. He squints and then looks away briefly.

"I just wanted to stop by and tell you more about the culture of Sunnyvale. You know, we're really tight-knit. Like family."

"I know."

"And you know, family protects family."

"I know."

"And you know, I'd do anything for my family."

"I know."

"Anything."

"What are you getting at?"

"I'm not getting at anything, (name). I'm just givin' you a little more info about our park, just trying to get acquainted with you."

"Oh, you're trying to get acquainted with me? This is the first time I've spoken to you in the month I've been living here."

"Well, you know, I was busy with the business I'm running -"

"- that lawn mowing business you and Ricky got?"

Is that what Ricky is calling it? "Yeah, we've had a lot of customers so I've been having to do a lot of bookwork to keep up with the business you know. But it's been busy, so I haven't had time to talk, but now I do and I want to get to know you."

"You want to get to know me?"

"That's what I just said isn't it?"

"Well I'll tell you what Julian," You push the chair backwards in thought, looking up at the bright summer sky. The sun shines in your face, warming your skin. It's a nice feeling. "If you really want to get to know me, you'll come over for dinner tonight."

Julian wasn't going to admit it but he was excited at the prospect of dinner. The last time he shared time - much less a meal - with a woman, she ended up stealing his dope plants and lying to him about being in love. In all fairness, most people would have been wary of someone saying I love you within the first week of getting to know them, but Julian (for the most part) was a hopeless romantic. He liked the idea of a life with someone else.

Julian told himself that this was strictly business - that he was here to set the record straight. This wasn't get-to-know-you dinner, this wasn't a date. He was just here to let you know that he wasn't going to tolerate funny business. He just happened to be wearing his nicest clean black shirt and he just happened to be wearing one of his nicer pair of jeans - the ones that didn't have the holes in them. Julian knocks on your door. The two minutes he waits for you to answer feels like an eternity but when you open the door, he's glad he's waited.

"You got a hot date you're going to after this?"

"What, this?" You look down at the pink summer dress you're wearing, "This is casual." You had always been the more feminine type, enjoying softer clothes and pretty dresses. Plus, unlike jeans dresses were more comfortable. You usher him inside and he obliges, being careful to not spill his drink when he steps in.

"Dinner is served." Dinner being a massive fucking bowl of macaroni and cheese with cheap ass hot dogs. "Sorry it's not exactly the best, but -"

"It's fine, don't worry about it." Julian sets his glass down. He's actually ecstatic. Macaroni and cheese and fucking hotdogs? "You know, I don't know where you're from but around here this is a five-star meal."

You give a dry laugh. as Julian picks up his fork to eat. "You'll have to forgive me, I'm kind of new to the whole trailer park life and the whole being poor thing."

"Oh yeah? Where are you from?"

"Southern United States."

"What state?"

"Texas."

"That's a long way from here, basically on the other side of the continent. Why'd you come up this way?" Julian tells himself that he's not trying to get to know you because he's interested in you - he's trying to get to know you to get dirt on you, to know what he's up against.

"I needed an abortion." You answer dryly, "And even though it's been legal for some years now, no physician was wiling to perform one on me."

"Why come to Nova Scotia? Why not just go to another state?"

"Well, I figured things were just better here than they were there. Don't get me wrong, it's not perfect by any means but it's better than where I was from. At least here I know if I need the service again, it's a little more reliably accessible. Plus, it's not like I had anywhere or anyone I could turn to. So I just kind of . . . stayed."

"Heavy stuff." Julian sets down his fork, "Didn't have any family to turn to?"

"No, and even if I did they're not the kind of people I'd want to be around."

Julian could relate to that.

"So you just came to Canada for an abortion and then decided to stay? You know, when Americans come to Canada they want to go to Quebec. Nova Scotia isn't exactly on the top of the list, let alone Dartmouth. Let alone fucking Sunnyvale Trailer Park. Nobody just moves in here. Come on, (name) . . . what's the real reason why you're staying here?"

Your mouth runs dry as you consider answering him honestly. "Well, uh . . . you know . . ." You twiddle your thumbs a bit, "I came to Canada with my passport and got my abortion and then . . . I just uh . . ." There's a long pause as your appetite disappears completely. "I didn't have anywhere to go to so I just . . . never left . . . this place was the only place that'd rent to an illegal resident . . ."

"Holy fuck you don't have your papers?" Julian wasn't sure what kind of story he was expecting but it wasn't that. Now he feels like an asshole. "How did you get a job? How did you even afford this place?"

"Well, I had some savings so that was a good cushion, but when that ran out I was able to find a job working as a waitress at that little restaurant just out of town. I'm not technically on the payroll, they just don't make me report my tips, and any extra money is kind of . . . earned under the table." You respond sheepishly.

God, Julian feels like such a fucking jackass for being a raging asshole to you.

"That's . . . hard." Julian doesn't really know what else to say.

"Yeah."

"Well, I've shared my deepest darkest secret with you. Do you want to share anything with me?"

You and Julian talk well into the early hours of the morning, swapping life stories, funny anecdotes, and talking about all of the small things in between. Honestly, he feels at ease with you in a way he hasn't felt at ease before. The conversation flows naturally and even the silence you occasionally fall into feels comfortable. It's nearly two in the morning when you both look at the small clock hanging on your wall and realize the time.

". . . well, it's a little late . . ." You stretch in your chair, still sitting across the table from Julian. You don't really want him to go, but you've both run out of things to talk about and you still have some errands you have to run before work tomorrow. "You know, I have some things I gotta do tomorrow . . . but if you're feeling nice, maybe you can pay me back for dinner by making some for me. I'm usually too tired to cook when I get home . . . you know, only if you want to."

It's hard for Julian to say no to that face.

"What time do you get off work?"

. . .

Julian continues to insist that he doesn't feel some kind of way, that he's just taking the opportunity to really get to know you - you know, in case you ever pose a threat - but the nightly dinner-dates seem to differ.

"Why is it so hard to admit that you have a hard-on for (name)? It's so fucking obvious."

"It's not like that Ricky. You know, I have somewhere to be so why don't you just fuck off and give me some fucking space?"

"Oh yeah I know exactly where you want to be, all up in -"

The truth of the matter was that even though Julian fantasized about it at night, truly nothing had happened. You were sweet, kind, intelligent, patient, compassionate - a truly wonderful person. And that was the problem. Normally, Julian found himself happy to jump into a relationship, but he found himself afraid of making a fool of himself. Guys like him didn't get with girls like you. Simple as that. Besides, love just wasn't in the cards for Julian. It just never worked out like that.

Tonight was yet another night of disappointment. You had lingered on Julian's doorstep after dinner, hoping that maybe he'd make a move and at least give you a kiss goodnight - but the two of you simply stood there awkwardly until he nodded, saying he was probably going to go off to bed now. It was frustrating because you thought you were sending all of the right signals. Light touches, flirtatious giggles, risque comments - the works. But yet again, you find yourself leaving empty-handed. It wasn't that you weren't satisfied with the friendship, you really liked the dynamic the two of you had. You liked that Julian showed you ways to save money, ways to spruce up the trailer home so it felt more roomy, showed you around town a bit - but it left you feeling a bit stupid because you could have sworn the two of you had something more. You could just feel it. But he never addressed it and it drove you crazy.

You knock on the door nervously, your hands shaking.

Julian answers the door again. "What's going on?"

"I don't want to go home just yet. This is about the time J-Roc films his adult films. Can I just sit here for thirty more minutes? He usually finishes up around one in the morning or so."

"Uh, yeah, sure, come on in. You can hang out here. I have to shower because, you know, I got somewhere to be in the morning -" Tomorrow was the day he was supposed to drop off the product with the prison guards, "- normally I'd wait up but I got some important stuff I gotta take care of tomorrow. I'm about to get ready for bed, so you can just leave whenever you're ready."

"Alright."

You find yourself sitting awkwardly on the couch as Julian disappears into the bathroom. The trailer shakes a bit when he turns on the water and you can hear the pipes rush before the water falls like rain into the tub. You sit in silence and contemplate. You couldn't keep going back and forth like this, it'd get nowhere. He had hinted a few times at maybe having feelings. Sometimes his hand would linger on the small of your back too long when he was moving past you, or he'd stand too close to you - so close your shoulders would touch - whenever he got the chance. But nothing would ever come of it, and you were tired of it. You think about maybe joining him in the shower but that's too ballsy of a move, so you simply sit there and listen to the shower run until it's turned off. There's more shuffling and you can hear him go into his room. The hallway light turns off and the door clicks close. You should probably get going by now, but you can't bring yourself to just leave.

. . .

You feel like a psychopath drifting down the hallway. You only came down here to use the bathroom, but now you were standing at his bedroom door - contemplating whether or not you should knock on the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Ricky, is that you? I told you to stop picking my fucking lock -"

"No," You answer meekly, "It's me. I uh, wanted to take that book back I lent you before I went home. I didn't see it in your living room so I figured you might be keeping it in here."

Julian stares up at the ceiling in thought. Julian is pretty book-smart and it doesn't take a genius to know the game you're running. He's been down this road a thousand times. He wants to say yes, but there's still the lingering fear of ruining the good friendship that's already there.

Julian turns his head to look at his nightstand, the small paperback book sat there. Shit, maybe you weren't playing any games.

"Yeah, give me a moment, I'll come bring it to you."

"You don't have to go through that trouble, I'll just come get it real quick . . . if that's alright with you."

". . . that's alright with me."

You gently push the door open, slipping through before gently closing the door behind you. You can only see the outline of Julian's body in the dark, a few shadows illuminated by the moonlight that drifts in through the blinds.

"It's right over here." You see the shadow of Julian's hand reach over and grab the thick book. Infinite Jest.

"I'll come get it." You pull yourself up onto the bed, you're knees on either side of his feet. Gently, you shimmy your way up, crawling over him on your hands and knees. Julian shifts a bit. Both of your breaths are heavy and as you sit yourself comfortably on his waist, you watch his chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. Gently, you pluck the book from his hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Julian's voice is barely over a whisper.

You thumb through the thick book, landing on a page barely illuminated by the moonlight, reading the page you've thumbed to. "Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it." Truer words have never been spoken. Like everything in life, Julian has sunk his fingernails so deep into it he's drawn blood. He likes to pretend he can let things go, but he can't.

Julian's hands gently grip at your hips, squeezing them softly - almost like he's afraid that if he squeezes too tight he'll hurt you. His fingers grip at your waist, gently pushing your hips backwards, guiding them in a gentle rocking motion against him. Your hips follow the movement of his hands, rocking against him with a pleased hum.

"Is that right?" Julian asks in a whisper.

"That's right." You respond gently.

"Me included?" He can't hope that you want him so bad that you'd sink your nails so deep into him that he'd never be able to leave you, even if he wanted to. And even if you wanted to leave him, he'd probably stay around and beg for you to take him back anyway.

"If you'll let me."

If he wasn't rock hard before he's rock fucking hard now. "I want you." Julian's voice is hoarse, completely contradicting his typically firm and masculine present. He melts under you. Whether he wanted to believe it or not, Julian was a romantic and the touch of a woman he really valued meant a lot to him. His breath is labored as he guides your hips against him, "Please, I want you."

If this were someone else in the park, it'd be a different story. Sleeping around with people in the park for Julian wasn't about emotions, it was about releasing a physical need, and when you can't keep a boyfriend sometimes you have to turn to your neighbors for some help. Everyone slept with everyone. But you're not them, this isn't just casual for Julian - he doesn't want to fuck it up. He shudders when your fingertips drag across his chest, tracing patterns and circles into his shirt as you rock against him, grinding your hips downwards to create more friction. You're a tease, you take your time, and he hates it but he loves it. Two large hands reach up to cup your breasts over your shirt gently, His hands trail downwards, over your abdomen, grabbing gently at your stomach for a short moment before finding themselves at the hem of your shirt.

"What are you waiting for?" You ask him between small breaths, still making rhytmic riding motions. It's a softly-asked question but also a plea for action. "Please, Julian. I've wanted this since the moment I saw you."

"God, fuck you're so fucking hot." It's like a flip switched in his head and he can't hold himself back anymore. Strong hands placed firmly on your hips flip you onto your back. Now he's on top of you, every part of him everywhere. His lips touch yours in a kiss, teeth pull at the skin of your neck, and tongue sooths the freshly bruised areas by rubbing itself on it in small circles. Like always, he can't help himself, and unlike recently, he stops wasting time.

Your shirt is the first thing to come off - Julian helps shimmy it off of you, throwing it to the side. The next thing to come off is your pajama pants, which he also tosses to the side after helping shimmy it off of you. He has half a mind to compliment the pretty color of your underwear and tell you it looks good on you, but he doesn't pay it any mind since it's about to come off anyways. His hands lift you up by the small of your back just long enough for him to unclasp your bra, letting you fall back down onto the bed. His hands hook underneath your knees, lifting them up and pushing your legs up so he can help slide your underwear easily off of your body. You're left naked under him while he remains fully clothed, lowering himself onto you before you can complain that he hasn't undressed yet.

His thumbs roll against your nipples, gently pinching and pulling at them before taking them into his mouth. Julian has never been the most gentle lover, especially when he gets excited, always eager to take matters into his own hands - but that's part of his appeal.

Kisses trail down your stomach, followed by him dragging his tongue along the skin, pushing your legs apart. He takes his time adorning your inner thighs with kisses, sucking on the skin and taking it between his teeth. He likes the way he makes you whimper and moan, it's intoxicating. But eventually the teasing becomes too much even for him, he's growing impatient, so he lends his tongue to you, circling it around your clit, strong nose pressed into sensitive skin.

Your body writhes as you feel a familiar pressure build in your abdomen, thighs tightening around his head so tight he thought he might suffocate. What a way to go that would be. Your fingers curl into his short hair, gripping and pulling at his hair while your toes curl. You whimper but that only encourages him to slowly push his thick index finger into you, followed by a second after you properly adjusted. His mouth and fingers work in tandem, his fingers curling and pressing inside of you in a come hither motion while his tongue continues to stroke your clit.

"Fuck, Julian, god, fuck -" But before you can climax, he's gone - pulling away. If Julian enjoys anything, it's edging. There's just something about bringing a woman to climax and leaving them nearly in tears that turns him on.

"You look disappointed." Julian catches a glimpse of your lopsided frown illuminated in the moonlight, "Don't worry, I'll take care of it." His shirt is pulled over his head, exposing his bare chest. When you touch the muscle, it's firm from years of consistent working-out. You trace a tattoos that look like they were done with a sewing needle and ink - probably stick and poke tattoos - but Julian frowns. He doesn't like those tattoos, he's not proud of them and he's not proud of his time spent in jail. But you only offer him an encouraging smile and place your palm over the tattoo before dragging your hand down to his belt, pulling at the buckle. Julian offers you a half-hearted smile. "Can't wait?"

Julian pushes your hand out of the way gently, taking his time to unfasten his belt and slowly pulling it through the loops. The belt is tossed to the side, along with his pants and underwear, leaving you both equals. Two hands hook themselves underneath your knees, placing your ankles on his shoulders while he uses his right hand to stroke his cock a bit, helping to harden himself up more. Sometimes the nerves just get to you.

"Holy fuck Julian you're big, you gotta be careful with that thing you're carrying a whole fucking concealed weapon -"

Julian chuckles a bit at the comment but presses a gentle kiss to your ankles. "I'll be careful with you if that's what you're trying to say."

The tip is pushed in slowly with great discomfort, pushing himself in. There's a stiff moment of silence as you let out a labored breath.

"You good?" he asks.

You nod, dragging your teeth over your bottom lip. Julian takes his thumb against your bottom lip, peeling it out from underneath your teeth. His thumb drags your bottom lip down, exposing the inside of it before pushing his thumb into your mouth. Your lips wrap around his thumb, letting your tongue slide against the skin, sucking on the appendage as he pulls out just a bit, repositioning himself before he thrusts back in. Your body pushes upwards with the motion, head pressing against the headboard slightly. His thumb is still pressed in your mouth while his free hand keeps hooked underneath your knee, pushing it backwards so he can angle himself better - each thrust pushing itself deeper inside of you. Sweat coats his chest and runs down the side of his face, abdomen flexing the closer he gets to coming, but he restrains himself - wanting to ride it out for as long as he could.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Oh, God, Julian -"

"Fuck, (name)."

"Julian -"

"(Name), (Name), (Name)."

"I heard you did a real good job of running that girl out of the trailer park last night, Julian."

"Hey, Barbara, why don't you fuck off?"

#julian tpb #tpb julian #tpb ricky #trailer park boys #tpb #ricky lafeur #julian x reader #julian x reader tpb #tpb bubbles #tpb ricky and julian #ricky tpb #julian x you tpb #trailer park boys reader insert #tpb reader insert

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hotcat37 · 11 months

Text

Drew the boys in a Miitopia AU :0 The fourth member is Sarah btw and she's a warrior but I wasn't able to draw her at the time :/

#trailer park boys #julian tpb #ricky lafleur #tpb bubbles #rickyjules #ricky x julian #trailer park boys fanart #tpb julian #Bubbles tpb #Hotcat art #Miitopia

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effloradox · 3 months

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Oh that Thomas request with a forehead kiss was so cute. Could I pretty please request one where the reader and thomas start a relationship as ghosts and are super cute together. But most of the other ghosts just don't get it? They catch them holding hands or cuddling and the other ghosts just tease them until they finally realise how good thomas and the reader are for each other - 🌸 anon

don’t let the dreamer get lonely

This was such a cute request!! I hope you like it <3

Thomas Thorne x Ghost!Reader

You would think that after knowing someone for almost a decade that your fellow ghosts would be more observant to changes in your daily behaviour. Part of you is convinced that they have noticed and are just messing with you but deep down you know that most of them don't have the tact to do such a thing, especially Pat and Kitty. It can't be hard to miss all the adoring looks Thomas sends you, or spot the two of you when you go for your daily stroll to the lake for a moment of shared peace but the true nature of your relationship seems to have eluded most of your acquaintances.

The ones who know have been fairly upfront about possessing such information, you probably shouldn't have been overly surprised that Julian had been the first to work it out. Whilst you'd initially written the disgraced politician off as a crude fool, he didn't get to be as successful as he was without the eye for detail he obviously possesses. He'd been surprisingly happy to keep your little secret as long as it benefitted him every so often and to keep some semblance of normality you didn’t mind occasionally doing his bidding.

It’s not that you wanted to keep your relationship a secret per-se, it’s just been an enjoyable experience running around like teenagers in love. Thomas had been so bashful in the first few years when approached with any level of physical affection that it had taken months for him to even ask to hold your hand. Dating and courting rituals have changed so drastically since Thomas was alive that you knew the process of going from friends to dating would take a while but it had to move at a pace you were both completely comfortable with.

It doesn’t help that most of your fellow ghosts are quick to tease you and Thomas if you’re seen so much as holding hands. You’ve had more than one argument with Fanny over the implications that come with holding hands, since she can’t imagine a world where doing so without wedding rings is anything less than a cardinal sin. It’s almost fun to wave your entwined hands in front of her in the beginning, just to take delight in her mortified reactions.

It’s only when Pat almost walks in on a private moment that the cat is finally out of the bag about the two of you. He’d been on his way to his room when he’d overheard a loud laugh from one of the drawing rooms, immediately attracting his attention. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, not really, but it wasn’t hard to recognise your laugh and he wanted to know the cause of it. It’s only when he hears a quiet exchanging of words that it occurs to him that this isn’t the kind of conversation he can just walk into.

“You know, I think you were sent for me.” The way you speak is soft, like you're afraid speaking any louder would break whatever bubble you've found yourself in and it peaks the scoutmaster’s curiosity.

“You flatter me with your words.” Pat isn't particularly surprised to find out that Thomas was the source of your joy, the two of you are very close after all. But he's never heard you speak to anyone like that and he can't help his curiosity so the scoutmaster inches closer to the half-open door so he can continue listening.

“I'm serious Thomas.” The room goes quiet and Pat is almost afraid that the two of you know he's there and that’s why you've stopped talking. It's only when Thomas speaks encouragingly to you that he stops worrying about being caught.

“Go on my darling.”

“I remember when I was a kid I saw a shooting star on a camping trip to the lakes. My parents told me that I should make a wish and if no one else wished on that star then it would come true. Silly really, hundreds of people must have seen it, but when I wished and they told me it would come true I believed them.”

“And what did you wish for?”

“True love. It took a while, but I'm so glad you're my wish come true.”

“Your words put my poetry to shame my love.”

It's only when Pat hears a noise from somewhere in the house that he comes back to himself. He bolts away from the room, heading to where most of the other ghosts had congregated for Lady Button's etiquette lesson. Even Allison had joined for this lesson, mainly because Kitty refused to leave her alone about it. In his mind, Pat has an eloquent way of explaining what he's just found out but it all goes out the window as soon as everyone's eyes are on him.

“Thomas and (Y/N) are dating!” The room explodes into a series of confused and surprised exclamations, with only two ghosts remaining silent. Allison is the only person to notice that the politician sitting across from her has not changed his facial expression since before Pat ran in. If anything, Julian almost seemed bored by the revelation.

“Julian, you don't look surprised?” The ghost in question crosses his arms across his chest, leaning back against the couch he's resting on.

“Well they've been pretty obvious about it, if you ask me. I worked it out months ago.” The politician's expression settles into a smug smile as finishes speaking. Alison can't resist the urge to roll her eyes at his smugness, not all that surprised that he’s kept the information to himself. She doesn’t doubt that he’s used that information for personal gain either.

The other ghost that remained silent has still not spoken. Alison knows how close you and the Captain are, so it's more surprising that he hasn’t reacted to the idea of you secretly dating one of the other ghosts right under his nose.

“Cap?” The ghost in question seems to come back to himself at Alison’s gentle prodding, straightening up and clearing his throat. A hush falls over the room as the Captain speaks.

“He came to me about a year ago asking me for my blessing for him to begin dating (Y/N). Said it wouldn't feel right if he didn't ask the closest thing she has to a father figure. I of course said yes once he made his intentions clear, and they seem to be very happy.” At the news of the couple receiving the Captain’s blessing, most of the other ghosts seem to settle into the news, murmuring compliments about the two ghosts.

“I always thought they’d be sweet together. Just thought Thomas was too reserved to ever make a move.” Julian laughs at that, redirecting the attention of everyone in the room back to him.

“He looks at her like she hung the bloody moon. I dread to think of how much poetry he’s written about her.” Alison lets out an involuntary groan at the idea.

“As long as he doesn’t subject us to it at his next poetry lesson he can be as poetic as he wants.”

In the days that follow it becomes apparent to all the residents of Button House just how in love the newly revealed couple are. The most surprising thing to them is how it took them all so long to notice. Subtlety is not in Thomas’ nature, and Julian was correct in saying that he looks at his partner like she hung the moon. It’s sweet really, and the others make sure to start giving you space to be alone together.

#my writing #fics #fem!reader #requested #thomas thorne x reader #bbc ghosts x reader #🌸 anon

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drivinmeinsane · 2 months

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In case you're not tired of them yet- I've got some character asks :]

For Holland; 8, 16 and 27

For Julian; 15, 17 and 28 (Driver)

For K; 2, 17 and 47

Thank you for the message! I appreciated the opportunity to talk about these guys some more!!! <3

Holland

8. Unpopular opinion about them.

Holland loved his wife dearly, but Jackson Healy is the unexpected love of his life.

16. Deepest darkest secret they won’t even admit to themselves.

Holland is worried that Holly hates him. He thinks he genuinely might be a bad father. He couldn’t fault his daughter if she blames him for the death of her mom, he certainly does.

27. Their guilty pleasure.

It would be easy to say alcohol, smoking, or self-flagellation, but really? Holland likes all those cheesy family activities (this includes Jackson of course). He didn’t get to spend enough time with Holly and her mom together, so he tries to put in the extra effort these days for family game nights, dinners, movie trips, anything they can do together. He also gets the bonus satisfaction of seeing Healy’s face flush every time he’s included as part of the March family.

Julian

15. Worst thing they’ve ever done.

Julian has done plenty of terrible things in his life. He is a product of his upbringing. As gently as I can put this with the understanding that he was victimized, the worst thing he did was not love himself enough to save himself by cutting ties with his mother and his brother. Without them in the picture, he very likely would not have been engaging in the destructive (both to himself and to other people) behaviors to the extent that he was. Crystal truly was an epicenter of bad.

17. Quotes, songs, poems, etc. that I associate with them.

Off the top of my head, here are some of the songs that remind of Julian » I Bet on Losing Dogs - Mitski » God's Gonna Cut You Down - Johnny Cash » Afraid - The Neighborhood » Knives Out - Radiohead » Grip - Seeb x Bastille

28. How they feel about Driver.

I feel like Julian would find common ground with Driver. Neither of them had a stable childhood, however Driver was able to come out of his experiences being able to connect with others, to love, despite everything. Julian might be able to let him in. Perhaps he could heal.

2. A canon or headcanon hill I will die on.

I firmly believe that Deckard would have left that upgrade center with two kids, Ana and K, if he had truly known what was going on from the start. By all rights, they were siblings. K had found his family. He just would not -could not- consider himself human enough to deserve it. By the time Deckard realized, likely when Ana explained the circumstances of K visiting, it would have been too late for him to claim K in life. In a happier story, he would have pried K off those steps before he succumbed to his wounds and the thought that he wanted to die. Maybe he could have been saved. Deckard had loved a replicant as a partner, he could have easily loved a replicant as a son.

17. Quotes, songs, poems, etc. that I associate with them.

Here's just some of the songs I associate with K. We'll go ahead ignore that I'm pulling some of these off my Six/K playlist... » Like Real People Do - Hozier » Star Hopping Lover - Chance Peña » Take me to Church - Hozier » Achilles Come Down - Gang of Youths » Way Down We Go - KALEO

47. Their dream job.

I think that in another life, K would have really liked to do something involving agriculture. As we see in both the script and in the movie, he has a genuine interest in Sapper’s occupation. He wants to know what he farms. He wants to know what’s bubbling on the stove. He’s intrigued by the cowslip he finds on the ground. Anything involving the creation of life and the tactile use of his hands seems right up his alley. Personally, I specifically see him as keeping bees if he were not… leashed by the LAPD (if he were to survive defection or were allowed to openly have his own interests). They captivated him from the moment on landed on his hand. As he is, they’re part of a system working for the betterment of a colony. I also think that in keeping bees, he would feel closer to Deckard given that he has his own. It might feel almost as if it were a family business, and we all know how desperately K wants to belong to a family. I’ve included some of my notes on the script and some shots of K finding the hives. I have too many feelings. :(

#.character ask game #.from you #the nice guys (2016)#holland march #only god forgives (2013)#julian thompson #blade runner 2049 #officer k #.my thoughts #.my posts

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bakuliwrites · 11 months

Text

Venerate- Lucio Morgasson x Reader

Rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

Fandom: The Arcana

Relationship: Lucio Morgasson x Reader (Background Julian x Lucio x Reader)

Summary: Lucio wants to make sure you understand how beautiful you are and how much your body deserves to be celebrated. He also decides to help you out with a bit of a quandary you've found yourself in.

Tags: Female Apprentice, Smut, Fluff, PIV, Lactation K*nk, Breastfeeding, Comfort S*x, Praise K*nk, Body Worship

Read here in this post or over on my AO3

You groan, sitting on the edge of your bed as you carefully peel your blouse away from your chest. Each brush of your arm against your bosom sends waves of dull pain through you. You sharply suck in a breath as your wrist grazes your tender nipple, cursing quietly as you finally slip out of your clothing. Joyously, you had volunteered to be a surrogate for Asra and Muriel when they announced they had wanted to start a family together. You knew what you were getting into and had read up on all the pain and uncomfortable side-effects of pregnancy, so you had been well-prepared for that. Plus, you and Asra had had some magic tricks up your sleeves to help alleviate some of the discomfort. When it was finally time to give birth, again you’d been as prepared as you could be (though no one is ever really ready for that). But what you hadn’t been anticipating was the pain of trying to wean a baby off of nursing. It's only day one and you are positively miserable.

You’d parted from Muriel and Asra’s a little while ago, leaving them to be with their little bundle of joy. All you longed for on your return home to the palace was the warmth of a bubble bath and a good night’s sleep. But with every step you took, every gentle bounce of your breasts, followed radiating pain. You need to pump or do something before you can even think about letting them touch the water of a bath. Even just sitting there on the edge of the bed you can feel how horrendously sore they are.

Before you can think about what you're going to do next, your bedroom door bursts open and in waltzes Lucio, looking rather proud of himself.

“Good evening, my dove,” he exclaims, exuberant as always, not noticing at first that you're half-clothed and morose. He kicks off his boots, slamming the door shut behind him, and tossing his furs across the back of one of the chaise lounges.

“I have the most salacious story to tell you,” he begins, striding across the room to pour himself a drink from the crystal carafe you and Julian had bought him for your last anniversary, “I was enjoying my nightly constitutional around the grounds when suddenly, I heard a rustling sound in the bushes. I, being the courageous warrior that I am, immediately went to investigate, thinking that perhaps we had some intruders. I rounded the corner, ready to pounce, when I was greeted with an unfortunate eyeful-” As he whirls around from the mini-bar, he finally catches a glimpse of the discomfort on your face, your half-naked body greeting him.

“My precious gem, whatever is the matter?” he coos, uncharacteristically interrupting his gossip to fawn over your defeated self.

“I’m quite miserable this evening, my darling,” you sigh, pouting as he sets his drink off to the side and draws you in close. As soon as his chest connects with yours, you hiss in pain, causing him to withdraw quickly.

“What’s wrong?” he panics, pale eyes darting between his chest and yours, “Did I poke you with one of my medals? I’m so sorry! I’ll get rid of them.” He struggles to pull his sash over his head, but manages to finagle it off and chuck it aside, where it lands on top of his furs with the metallic tinkle of his medallions clacking together.

“I don’t think it was your medals, Lucio,” you giggle, his typical overreaction rather endearing, “I’m just a bit- sore.” A blush paints your cheeks, your eyes sheepishly glancing down. Suddenly, you feel embarrassed by your predicament, not wanting to bother Lucio with something you're sure he’ll find uninteresting, or strange even. Though, perhaps that isn’t a fair assumption. He’s changed a lot over the years.

Ever since you’d gotten pregnant, and even continuing on after the birth, Lucio has been extra protective of you. You're grateful for everyone’s help, certainly, but have been rather stupefied by Lucio’s reaction to the whole thing. It's been especially beneficial to have a doctor for a partner, but you hadn’t realized what a boon having a (former) count for a partner would be. Julian had obviously been at your beck and call throughout the process, making sure you and the baby are healthy and happy, ever eager to please. To your surprise, Lucio has also been rather ecstatic to help out, mainly in the way of spoiling you and making sure you have everything you need (and everything you don’t need, but perhaps want). It's been nice to see a softer, more caring side to him.

“Sore? Sore, how? Can I get you anything?” he speaks, kneeling in front of you, beginning to rapidly fire off questions. He offers to draw a bath, send for Julian (who's busy at his clinic that evening), massage you wherever it hurt (this he adds with a suggestive wink). He can procure delicious treats for you, and if you tell him the name of whoever it was that hurt you, he would most certainly take care of it, himself.

“No, no!” you cut that train of thought off before it goes too far, “No one hurt me. I’m just- well-” Heat radiates from your cheeks as you stare bashfully at him underneath hooded lashes. He takes your hands in his, squeezing them reassuringly.

“It’s okay, you can tell me,” he beams. Is this the same Lucio you met all those years ago? It seems impossible. But the loving look in his eyes assuages your fears and you find yourself explaining to him exactly what's wrong. He listens, oddly patient, until you’re finished. He's silent for a beat longer, before he looks up at you from where he kneels, an unreadable glint in his eyes.

“So, you’re telling me you need to just- release all that pressure?” he tries thoughtfully, trying to understand. You nod quietly, anxiety suddenly welling up inside you. You're worried he thinks that maybe this is strange, or unsightly. He's always so prim and proper when it comes to his appearance (though not in regards to anything else). A neat-freak, honestly. Your predicament feels messy and so not something Lucio would understand.

“I was just going to figure it out myself,” you quickly add, shifting to get up and head towards the bathroom; but Lucio grips your hand tighter, a wordless plea for you to stay seated. His silence is driving you nuts. Lucio is never quiet, so it can only mean something bad. And then the corner of his thin lips curls up into a mischievous grin.

“Well, you know, we could wait for Jules to return from the clinic,” he speaks slowly, one of his sharp eyebrows quirking up, “He’d certainly know what to do. Or-” another devilish glint in his eyes, before he leans in close, lips centimeters from yours, his breath fanning across them, “I could help you out.” You feel your heart hammering behind your ribs, breath becoming shallow as Lucio captures your lips in his. His tongue hungrily slips past your parted lips, exploratory and warm. Is he suggesting what you think he's suggesting?

Gently, Lucio lays you back on the bed, silk sheets cool against your overheated skin. He makes quick work of removing the last of your clothing and abandoning his own. Propped up against the pillows, you watch as Lucio sidles up to you, stroking your flushed cheek with his thumb and taking one of your hands in his metal one. Already, he's erect, the tip of his member swollen and pink.

“Is that what you want, my pet?” he practically purrs, gently kissing the back of your hand, throwing a kittenish side-eye your way, “For me to help you relieve that pressure?” You feel your folds growing wet, slick with arousal at Lucio’s sultry tones. Is this really something he want to do? Something you desperately want him to do? You hadn’t expected this predicament to spark some hidden desire in either of you, but here you are. There's no backing out now.

“Yes,” you at long last breath, your voice catching in your throat.

“Yes, what?” Lucio shoots back, assuming a commandeering pose where he sits beside you, puffing out his chest and straightening up. You like it when he takes control, since usually you're the one to wield it in the bedroom. Both he and Julian typically enjoy more submissive roles. It's nice to be the one in that position, every once in a while.

“Yes, please, sir,” you correct, shivering as he ghosts his metal fingertips along your stomach.

“Good girl,” he returns, highly pleased with himself, shifting so that he's now laying against the pillows and you're propped up against him. He draws you in closer, his erection pressing against the small of your back, a husky grunt reverberating through his chest as you teasingly roll your hips against it. With one hand tangled in your hair, Lucio yanks your head back, tilting your face up towards him to allow better access to your lips.

“Patience, my dove,” he commands, donning a roguish smile, “I’d like to take my time tonight. I’d like to make sure your body gets the worship you so deserve.” Before you can say anything more, Lucio takes your mouth in his again, roughly this time, kisses sloppy and hard. You can feel your lips swelling with the ferocity of his passion. You're hardly able to get a breath in. Suddenly, pain shoots from your nipple, where Lucio has taken one of them between two of his metal fingers and tweaked it. You cry out from the sensation,

“Aww, was that mean of me?” he mocks, a filthy smirk spreading across his angular face. You’d make him regret that if you weren’t at his mercy already. Besides, you like it when he teases you. You merely huff in mock disappointment, breath strained and chest heaving. Lucio leaves your mouth, peppering kisses along your jawline, craning your neck to one side so he can leave his love bites along it.

“I shouldn’t tease so much. You’ve been working so very hard, all these months,” he croons between nips, “You deserve some pampering. Your body- it deserves celebrating.” A pitiful whine escapes your lips, one hand reaching up to grasp at the short hairs on the back of Lucio’s neck. He certainly knows how to spoil you. How to celebrate you. As selfish as he can be at times, he's always ecstatic to be able to flex his ability to indulge your needs, just as much as he likes indulging his own.

“Tonight,” he breathes against your skin, pressing you even closer to him, “Your pleasure is my command. This body that has worked so tirelessly, carrying and providing for a young one, deserves veneration. Tonight, it’s my duty as your partner to make sure you are thoroughly ravished.”

“Lucio,” you try, voice hitching in your throat, garnering a chuckle from him.

“Well, I might make you beg for it a little,” he adds, nudging your cheek with the tip of his nose, “Since I know that’s what you like.”

With a breathy laugh, you lean your head against his shoulder, allowing Lucio to free his hand from your hair and trail it down to attend to your sore breasts. He takes them in his hands and massages them gently, trickles of white escaping from them as he kneads.

“So heavy, my darling,” he growls, eliciting another pathetic whimper from you, which he seems to take great delight in, “So full. Let’s fix that.”

With this, Lucio frees himself from where he's seated, gently scooting out from behind you and leaning you back against the pillows again. Laying himself across your lap, he dives down to ensnare the hardened bud of one of your nipples in his mouth. But Lucio isn’t about to give you any relief just yet. Toyingly, his tongue circles the sensitive nub, flicking it painfully. He luxuriates in your soft mewls and half-hearted begs for him to stop teasing, merely glancing up at you impishly, silver eyes glimmering wickedly. His hands grip your waist, metal talons digging into your soft skin as he holds you in place.

“Lucio, please,” you beseech, throwing your head back against the pillows, desperate for some kind of release, whether through the pressure in your breasts being relieved or through orgasm, you don’t care. You just want something to make you feel better.

“Patience, my angel,” he coos, withdrawing briefly from his ministrations, “I’ll attend to you when I’m ready.” In that moment, you simultaneously hate and adore him, his purposeful disregard of your needs both exciting and cruel. But you know he's just building up your desire so you'll only end up enjoying it even more when he ultimately does take you. You can feel your folds growing slicker with each flick of his tongue. Meanwhile, his hands rove your body, massaging your hips and squeezing your ass. Every once in a while, his mouth leaves your breast to whisper sweet nothings in your ear: reminders of how strong you are, how hard-working, how beautiful, how loving. This is a whole new side of Lucio you're seeing. You quite like it.

“These voluptuous hips,” he speaks, as he grips either side of you, fingers kneading your supple waist, “These hips have worked so tirelessly.” He plants a tender kiss on each side of your hip bones, before moving to your stomach. His breath ghosts along your skin, sending delightful shivers through you.

“This lovely belly,” he goes on, peppering your abdomen with kisses, “has worked miracles. Indefatigable and magnificent.” He ardently kisses the stretch marks on your stomach and your hips. He seems to have picked up some vocabulary from Julian over the years.

“This beautiful skin,” he breathes, moving up to meet your mouth, pale eyes gazing lovingly into yours, “bears the exquisite marks of your vigor.” Adoringly, he presses his lips to yours, gentle and slow. When he withdraws from your mouth, he goes back down to focus on your chest.

“And these sumptuous breasts,” he concludes, softly kissing each of your nipples, “Continue to work so very hard.”

You can hardly believe your ears. Suddenly, you're feeling rather emotional at your partner's kind words. He's making you feel so entirely loved. So beautiful. Over the last year or so, you’ve fluctuated between feeling utterly in love with your body and all the amazing things it can do, and feeling completely miserable. Some days, you see yourself in a passing reflection and want to jump for joy, feeling so proud of yourself. Others, you look in the mirror and want to weep. But throughout everything, both Lucio and Julian have been so supportive, so sweet to you. You want to say something in return to Lucio’s words, but speech dies in your throat when he finally (and without much warning), purses his lips around your nipple and begins to suckle.

A moan falls from your lips as Lucio drinks from you, humming pleasantly against your plump breast, eyes falling shut. Your hand, slicked with a bit of saliva, moves to give Lucio’s cock some much needed attention. You stroke him languidly, feeling him tremble under your touch, muffled grunts rumbling through his chest. He rolls his hips in time with your pumps. With his golden hand still firmly gripping your waist, he snakes his other one down to your heat, where he begins circling your clit with his thumb. Sparks of pleasure, like an electric shock, run through you as he takes two of his fingers and slips them between your folds, pumping rhythmically into you.

You can feel the coil within you tightening as your beloved drinks heartily from you, releasing your nipple with a wet pop every once in a while to catch his breath, a white-hot fire burning in your core. Never in a million years would you have thought you’d see Count Lucio quiet and content as he suckles your swollen tits. Honestly, it's the quiet and content part that shocks you the most. But then again, he's a man of many surprises, as you are learning that very night.

His member twitches in your grasp and you feel your own release imminent as his fingers pick up the pace. You speed your own hand up, causing Lucio to gasp and grip your waist even tighter, garnering a breathy laugh from you.

“Lucio, my darling, I’m close,” you sigh, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes. He meets your gaze, eyes dark with lust, and swiftly releases your nipple. He pins you down on the bed, lifting your hands above your head and locking them in his grasp. Lucio’s cock slips through your slick entrance as he bends to savagely smash his lips into yours. His mouth is warm, slightly sour with the taste of your own product. He pounds mercilessly into you, the lewd slap of skin-on-skin mixing with your strained keens and his gravelly grunts. Sweat beads on his forehead as he relentlessly takes you, his hips snapping brutally into yours. The coil in you is so tight now, seconds away from breaking free.

With a cry of his name, you feel your walls shudder and release, just as Lucio comes undone above you, his hot seed spilling inside you. You feel it fill you, warm and welcome, as he rocks his hips erratically before coming to a halt altogether. Still buried deep within you, he releases your hands, catching his breath while you attempt to steady yours. Stars dot your vision and your head spins with pleasure. After a moment, Lucio withdraws from you and flops down beside you on the mattress. He draws you close, smoothing out some errant strands of hair on your head and tending to each of the little wounds his love bites have left on your skin. Throughout Lucio’s gentle caretaking, the two of you exchange whispered, “I love you’s” and desperate kisses.

“Feeling better now?” he purrs after you each settle down a bit. He's back to his jaunty, frisky self, waggling his brows at you and looking entirely too proud of himself.

“Yes,” you return, tucking a golden lock behind his ear, “At least in the one breast.”

“Perhaps we ought to leave the other one for our dear doctor. I’m sure he’ll be positively parched upon his return,” Lucio suggests with a lecherous grin, before adding in a more serious tone, “You know, I rather enjoyed this. Perhaps we should think about putting another little one in you. That way I can look forward to this again in another nine months.”

“Well, we’ll have to talk to Julian about that,” you playfully return, planting a peck on the tip of his nose, “That’s a big discussion. But it’s a discussion I’d like to have.” He chuckles, sweeping you closer to him and burying his face in your chest.

“Thank you for your kindness,” you whisper, feeling tears sting your eyes.

“Don’t you dare thank me, my cherished dove,” Lucio commands, squeezing you tight, “I meant every word of it. Don't thank me for telling the truth.” You smile against his chest.

“I was worried you might think it was, I don’t know, strange,” you admit after a moment, blushing sheepishly. Lucio snaps his head up, giving you a look as if you’d said the most ridiculous thing in the world.

“Strange? Hah!” he exclaims, tenderly caressing your cheek, “It’s a natural part of pregnancy and child-rearing. And, as I said, you’ve been working very hard. You deserve some pampering.”

“Besides, it may look like I don’t know a damn thing, but I actually do occasionally listen to our dear doctor. I knew this would be coming at some point or another,” Lucio goes on, looking pleased with himself.

“You did?” you return incredulously, raising a skeptical eyebrow up at him.

“Well,” he shrugs, looking demurely away for a moment, “Maybe I didn’t quite know the weaning process would be so miserable. Jules may have mentioned something about it. But I knew you’d need help with something. And why not have a little fun with it, while we’re at it?”

You meet his devilish grin with a beam and an eye roll before snuggling closer to him. It's then that you're suddenly reminded he’d been trying to tell you about some no-doubt ridiculous story when he’d entered earlier.

“What ‘salacious’ gossip were you trying to regale me with before all of our own excitement went down?” you venture.

“Hmm? Oh!” he starts, nuzzling you and listlessly adding with a dismissive wave of his hand, “Nadia and Portia enjoying a secret rendezvous in the gardens. Blah, blah, blah.” You simply nod in understanding, before blushing a deep shade of crimson when Lucio impishly adds, “Not nearly as salacious and interesting as our own activities, this sensuous night.”

A/N: This fic is almost two years old, goodness gracious. Apparently I never put it up on this tumblr? So here it is! Thanks for reading! I did not necessarily intend for this to be medically accurate (or technologically accurate) in any way (is surrogacy possible in Vesuvia? Who knows and I'm not going to think too hard about it). I really just wanted this to be a body positive, body worship fic. I know Lucio can be sort of a selfish character, but I think he is also capable of so much love and appreciation. I think he would be really invested in making sure you know you are beautiful and loved <3 Also, this had some background Julian/Lucio/Apprentice. I do plan on making this sort of a series. Next one I write will definitely be spice with all three. Much love to you all <3 Remember, to be kind to yourself and others.

#the arcana #count lucio #lucio morgasson #lucio x mc #lucio x reader #lucio x apprentice #dani writes #my writing #arcana fanfiction

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catholic-character-tournament · 11 months

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Round 1 - Side A

Propaganda below ⬇️

Dana Scully Propaganda

in a world of monsters and paranormal activity and alien conspiracies her faith is still important to her and I love her for it (well. that and many other reasons)

She’s a doctor but quit to become an FBI agent so she ends up just doing autopsies on people who died to ghosts or aliens. She is usually super factual and a huge skeptic, but she has repeated crises of faith and has to go to church to chill out. She feels guilty about everything constantly. Her family members remind her to be more catholic and then they end up dying and then she feels even worse. She gets abducted by aliens.

Most of her character arc revolves around struggling to square her faith with a) being a heavily skeptical scientist b) aliens being real (something she resisted very strongly on the grounds that she's a skeptical scientist) c) being abducted and getting pregnant and nearly dying as a result of said aliens being real. Struggles with this so much that she's in the confession booth like :grimace: especially because her investigative partner Mulder is a) an atheist b) believes in aliens just as strongly as she believes in Jesus

Refuses to believe in aliens because there’s absolutely no proof for it but then spends a whole ass episode trying to convince Fox “Aliens abducted my sister” Mulder that angels are real and can cause miracles. The sheer quantity of scientific qualifications she has only to turn around and say she wholeheartedly thinks biblical angels are 100% legit

Caesar Zeppeli Propaganda

(Spoiler for anyone who hasn’t JoJo’d) man gets crushed by a cross shaped rock :(( cries. Also they should have made him do the cross at some point I think that would’ve been fun. Oh also I saw someone draw him as the Fallen Angel painting once and I was like ???? bro is literally Catholic and a Good Guy why would you do this (no hate I just. I honestly have a thing with hating when people redraw good characters as that painting but it’s mostly the mental illness talking so whatever) this isn’t even related idk if this is a thing that should be typed here but. Also his birthday is on the Catholic feast day of Julian of Norwich my beloved I know this because it is Also My Birthday.

He's Italian, he's homoerotically involved with Joseph and somehow also divorced from him, he wears pastels, his go-to attack is bubbles, and he died being crushed by a giant rock shaped like a cross.

#cct polls #tumblr bracket #tumblr polls #tumblr tournament #dana scully #x files #caesar zeppeli #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo part 2

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lovecatsys · 3 months

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sofia mantega for the hc ask? 👀

She knows a lot of random people's secrets, because of the wind carrying her them accidentally, and she decided to keep a little journal filled with them. She Knows it's wrong, and she makes sure to keep it in a very well hidden place that only she knows, but she simply couldn't help it. She tries to tell herself it's because all the information in her head was bothering her, but it's really just because she genuinely enjoys having all that juicy information there like that, only for her to see.

She always makes time to visit Derek, even if it's been a while and she's had something preventing her from seeing him (like being on Mojoworld or fall of x) she manages to make it back to make sure he knows she's okay and spend some time with him <3

On Krakoa, she feels disconnected with the rest of her generation, and even disconnected from those of her generation who are Also disconnected because they died. She and Julian kind of live in their own little bubble actually, together because Julian in a way feels like he was failed by his friends, Santo is dead and Victor spends time only with the lost club, Brian hangs out mostly with the other kids who died because he's still a teenager and Julian and Sofia are both adults now. I'm envisioning them on Krakoa as sort of in the honeymoon phase of their relationship, when Sofia isn't working for X-Corp they're just spending all their time together. This doesn't last though, eventually they start to build up their relationships with their friends and not be so stuck with each other.

we know she can dance, but in my head Sofia cannot sing to save her life. She's the type of girl who will loudly and proudly sing extremely off key and not be embarrassed by it at all. This is one of the things Julian loves about her and also something her Mom always loved about her as well.

She definitely lost the bracelet she got from her mom along the way somewhere, if not before Mojoworld than definitely from the transition from dying there and being resurrected on Krakoa. She was very upset about this when she realized, and it was a moment of grieving for her in a way all over again. She eventually managed to replace the bracelet in a sense by finding a new item to keep with her that reminded her of her mother, maybe a photo of her or something similar, but it could never really replace the bracelet in her heart.

Send me a character or a ship, and I'll give you 5 headcanons!

#quicklings #sofia mantega #tysm for the ask!!#x men #new x men #fav: i love to dance… to feel the rhythm of the music… but you could not keep up with me!

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demetris-cocksleeve · 2 years

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please can i request 8, 10 and 24 on the touching prompts list for julian (arcana) please? :]

Fluff Prompts #8, #10, #24: "Shielding with body" "Spooning at night" "Lips grazing skin/Whispering in ear"

Prompts #23, #37: "Life or death kisses" "Public kisses"

(A/n: I combined both bc they're both for Julian and I had an idea; also, I used less 'life or death kisses' and went more for adrenaline filled kisses bc it fit better I hope that okay❤️)

Hope you enjoy~❤️

Navigation

Warnings: None (italics are flashbacks)

Age Rating: None

Julian x GN! Reader

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Racing through the streets of Vesuvia you couldn't help the laughter bubbling out your throat as you held tight to Julian. The guards behind you yards away with no hope at catching the two of you, especially with Julian's knowledge of the shortcuts and secret paths that lined the streets.

Julian had insisted on visiting the market and dragging you with him, not that you really would have protested. He had needed to get some herbs and other medicinal items but had quickly gotten distracted after purchasing them; dragging you from a vendor selling wide brimmed sun hats that he made you try on ("C'mon, please, y/n? You'll look even cuter!") to a food vendor selling plump honey crisp apples stacked neatly on his cart in a pyramid.

It was here that the day went wrong: turning with a flourish to you to make a joke, his jacket swiped at a row of apples sending the whole pile to the ground. The shop keeper had apparently recognized the doctor but had decided to keep his mouth shut.. that is until the apples fell; he quickly waved down the pair of patrolling guards, prompting Julian to grab your hand and book it. Leading to the current situation.

Your foot caught on a loose brick as he guided you around a sharp corner. Bracing your self for the fall you were surprised to land on a soft surface. When he noticed you tripped, Julian had angled himself so you would land on him instead of the rough stones, effectively shielding you with his own body.

You could hear the guards approaching and quickly jumped up, bringing Julian with you, and booking it to the nearest alcove. Pressing yourself firmly against the wall, Julian followed suit, just as the guards ran passed and back on to the busy street.

Letting out a laugh of relief you turn to Julian, only to be pulled into a kiss fueled by pure happiness and adrenaline.

"You, my dear are absolutely, amazing." he breathes between kisses.

"I try," you reply with a grin, hands still playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Finally back home, you and Julian were laying in bed, ready for the chaotic day to finally be over. Julian was behind you, arms tight around your waist holding you close as your legs tangled. Moonlight seeped into the room illuminating your forms in a pale, silver light as sweet nothings were exchanged. The feeling of your lover's lips on your skin as he whispered his love for you the last thing you remembered before slipping into sleep.

#the arcana julian #julian devorak fluff #julian devorak x mc #julian devorak #julian devorak x reader #the arcana #the arcana x mc #the arcana fluff #the arcana x reader #julian the arcana #the arcana jukian x reader #the arcana julian x mc

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julians-muscles-and-tits · 1 month

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This is a Trailer Park Boys fan blog dedicated to the show and the characters because I have a lot of love for these gorgeous funny men so expect the occasional cringey thirsting and fangirling especially for Julian and JP Tremblay but also general discussions of the show, themes and characters.

I'm a massive Ricky/Julian shipper it gives me life if I could I'd pay for their wedding lol.

My AO3 accounts are GlitterRachel and APurpleGalaxyCat.

I do NSFW smut reader fic requests of the following characters

🌿Ricky and Julian🥃 (threesome)

🌿 Ricky 🌿

🥃Julian 🥃

🐈 Bubbles 🐈

🍔 Randy 🍔

I also do NSFW smut fan fic requests of Ricky x Julian and Randy x Julian if anyone wants them.

I will write about anything and everything but not underage stuff, scat, animal stuff or incest etc

Message me if you want me to write out any fantasies you might have 😊 💖💗🌌⭐

#trailer park boys #reader fics #NSFW #blog #smut #fan fiction #Ricky #Julian #Bubbles #Randy #Ricky x Julian #Randy x Julian #self ship #julian x reader #Ricky x reader #Bubbles x reader #Randy x reader #Tumblr writer #tpb fan fiction #tpb self ship

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the-fucking-cannibal · 1 year

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Pink, sparkly and queer 💅🏻💗

Check out my newest Tpb stickers and pins now available on my Redbubble shop 💗

#tpb ricky #tpb julian #tpb #trailer park boys #tpb bubbles #ricky x julian #ricky lafleur

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hiddenwritingsintheworld · 8 months

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I've been trying so hard to write these last few weeks, I write while Im at work in between calls, I write in the middle of the night, I write early in the morning and I just come up with absolute trash. I Dont know what else to try!!!

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darlingshane · 2 years

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Expensive Delights: Part 1

Julian Kaye x F!Reader

Summary: He’s entertained by your bare foot moving to the rhythm of the piano, tapping on the leg of the table, and that one high heel hidden under your chair. Bringing his head back in the game, he has to fight a smile to not give himself away or raise any suspicion from his client. Then, he goes right-down fascinated when you open the notebook, pull a pen from the holder and start taking notes at a bar, of all places.

Word Count: 7,616 (Divided in 4 Chapters)

— Rating: 18+

Warnings: Explicit, Male escort, Alcohol use, More vanilla that you’d think.

Links: Series Masterpost / AO3

Chapter 1: Something with Rum

t’s a Sunday work night at La Palma when he first notices you. The lights are dimmed strategically around the tables, hinting shades of orange over palm leaf covered walls in the lounge area of the hotel. The pianist is playing something lightly upbeat, indistinguishable to him.

Sitting at the bar with a potential client, actual client being the right term on this statement since she has already booked the room and tucked the key card in the chest pocket of his blazer. And as soon as that Dom Pérignon glass in her very expensive hand, adorned with gold and a pear shaped diamond, is over, they’ll be heading up the elevator.

The middle-age woman takes her time, savoring every drop while talking about her last trip to Costa Rica. He’s taking all the details in, including her other hand sliding down to his knee; but his eyes are on your form reflected in the sleek mirror behind the bar. You’re sitting alone at a table with a cocktail nearby and a black leather notebook resting on your lap. He observes you discreetly, taking a sip of his bourbon; pegging you for someone completely out of your element by your unrehearsed moves. He doesn’t know that’s your first night out in Los Angeles, or a place like this for that matter. Anybody could see by the way you clutch to your journal while crossing one leg on top of the other a little awkwardly.

He’s entertained by your bare foot moving to the rhythm of the piano, tapping on the leg of the table, and that one high heel hidden under your chair. Bringing his head back in the game, he has to fight a smile to not give himself away or raise any suspicion from his client. Then, he goes right-down fascinated when you open the notebook, pull a pen from the holder and start taking notes at a bar, of all places.

He sees you again two days after that. Same table, same notebook on your lap, same heels but slightly different dress. With nobody at his side tonight, yet, he orders a drink and lights up a cigarette.

“I’m sorry, sir, you can’t smoke in here.” The bartender gestures at the sign while placing the tumbler glass on a coaster in front of him, then, producing a small tray from behind the bar for him to use.

He nods ruefully, putting it out. “Sorry.”

For someone keenly observant, he keeps missing those damn smoking signs a couple of months after being released. The world has changed in 15 years, some of it at least, and smoking is not appropriate in public spaces anymore. Prison might have kept the world still in a barred bubble, aged him up, given him some new skills, and made him reflect on his actions; but it didn’t, however, change his expensive taste. Hence, picking up right where he left off. Smarter this time around. No procurers. He did learn about computers and his former cellmate, Eli, designed and set up a whole website for him. It’s been up for three weeks and is yet to see better results. For now, he just hangs at La Palma every other night, building up a clientele. However, he had to slip a hundred dollar bill under the table to a certain manager who noted his nighttime activities recently. Small price to pay.

Using the mirror indirectly, his eyes travel back to scan you a second time. Your shoulders are stiff upright, chewing on your lower lip, as one of your feet jumps up and down anxiously under the table. He assumes you’re waiting for someone and watches you writing something on top of the page. Soon enough, a woman shows up and sits across the table. It seems like a formal meeting, and you barely touch your drink while you talk to this person and take a few notes out of her answers. You seem more relaxed after a few minutes, seeing you turning it around and talking intrepidly, casually propping your elbows on the table and playing with the straw inside your drink. The ice is mostly melted by the time the woman leaves, but you freely drink it all and head out for the night.

The third time he catches you at the bar, he’s coming out of the restroom and rounds past a few tables, when he hears your voice for the first time.

“Something with rum.” You order carelessly. “You choose.”

“Blue Hawaii?” The waitress suggests.

“Sure.”

It’s not until he sits a couple tables over, that he realizes that voice belongs to you, occupying what has become your usual table. He’s terribly near, witnessing how you fix the sleeve of your simple, dark see-through blouse that reveals a perfectly picked bra for the occasion. You tuck your hair behind your ear and pull the famous notebook out of your bag. You still seem out of place, but more comfortable than any of the previous days. His curiosity keeps peaking towards your direction, and finds himself staring longer than he should; captivated by all the mystery surrounding you. You momentarily tuck your arm to scratch your neck, granting him a glimpse of a small dragonfly inked on the side of your forearm, close to your wrist.

When you pull your stare out of those pages, he meets your eyes accidentally and, on a whim, holds your gaze. He catches you swallowing and staring right back at him for a few seconds before his client shows up, eclipsing that first connection between you two.

After that, he keeps glancing at your table while you meet with a different woman.

Head on the game, he goes on autopilot nodding and answering when he needs to, but utterly distracted by your presence. It doesn’t help at all finding that you’re using the reflection on the window to watch him in return a few times.

The last time he looks at you, you're chewing the inside of your mouth, listening to the other woman talk. You swallow thickly, almost as if you were considering a proposition she’s just made. You nod timidly before the woman takes off, heading to the hallway straight to the elevators.

He still thinks of himself as a great judge of character, even after being framed. Prison could only hurt his ego by an inch, and no more. It might be a flaw in his ability to read people; because when he sees you finishing your blue cocktail in solitary, then, rashly tucking all your stuff in your bag, and following the same direction the woman headed to, – he really doesn’t know what to make out of you.

Trying his luck a few days after, you show up right on cue wearing the same dress you wore the first time he saw you a week ago, claiming your table.

He downs the last of his drink and walks towards you before anyone can obstruct his chance of getting to talk to you.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Something with rum?” He’s the one to offer after watching you blank for a few seconds under his direct, warm stare.

Chapter 2: You Can’t Afford Me

You have no idea what you're doing.

The woman you were supposed to meet today canceled on your way over, but you didn't turn around and kept heading in the direction of the fancy hotel instead. You’ve come to like going out to La Palma, you’d rather stay here if you could afford it. Alas, the ridiculous amount that costs a night here sums to a total of a week in the two-star motel of your choosing. The service is far more friendly and your shoes don't stick to the floors. The company is not bad either. Clashing with the image of the manager of the motel; the man, standing right in front of you right now, is all elegance and determination in a broad frame dressed in a neatly pressed grey suit. His face is clean-shaven, exposing the rough, handsome features that work all together with the warm brown in his eyes. The length of his dark hair is pushed back loosely in a semi pompadour. If you could stick out your nose further, you'd know he smells just as good as he appears.

“I can't afford you.” You say right off the bat.

Of course, you do know who he is. You've been observing him as much as he has you for the past several days. Maybe you don't necessarily know everything about him, but the kind of women that he surrounds himself with and the collection of quality suits he dons, tells just as much of why he's a frequent at La Palma.

“I just offered you a drink, miss. Nothing else.” His lips quirk up.

Drawing a nervous smile and unable to stop yourself, you find your hand gesturing at the chair across the table.

His eyes never leave yours while he smoothly slides the classy armchair back before sitting in it.

“I'm Julian.”

Giving your name in return, your shoulders square, and you shift in your seat like you were being graded before pulling from the bag, squeezed between your leg and the armrest, your journal and placing it over your lap.

“May I ask, what is that about?” He leans back, crossing his legs under the table.

“Habit.” You huff and close it, apologetically, “I can’t help it.”

The corner of his lips pull up softly before getting the attention of one of the waiters with an elegant nod.

“How about a Hurricane?” He surveys the menu beforehand.

“I'd like that.”

Pretty much like the first night you came to this place, you don't relax one ounce while you wait for your drinks to be served. You’re not a big drinker, but given the topic you’re researching, you’ve found it quite helpful when conducting this kind of interview. Though, this isn’t anything of the sorts, you wish you could get some insight out of him, if not for the book, just out of curiosity or for future reference.

“What brings you to LA?” He interrupts your train of thought.

“Why would you assume I’m not from here?”

“You seem… unscripted.”

“Unscripted.” Your lips purse, mildly amused. That’s a new one.

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to figure you out, and I don’t think you belong here, and I say that as a compliment.” His face turns slowly to make a point, “unlike everybody else in here, you don’t seem to have an agenda.”

“Including you?”

“Including me, sweetheart.” He’s quick to reply with a speck of disdain towards himself.

“So, what’s yours?”

“What’s mine?”

“Yeah, what brought you here to my table? What are those underlying intentions brewing under that mop of hair?”

He contemplates for a second and pegs you a look that needs no answer.

–You.

Your eyes flicker timidly and you clear your throat.

“Well, I might not seem like I have one, but you’re right, I’m not from here.” You confess. “I’ve been here for a week doing some research.”

Intrigued. “Does it have to do with that ridiculous notebook you carry?”

You’re about to scold him when the waiter shows up with your drinks. Interrupting your moment, he places a ball glass with bourbon on the rocks in front of Julian and a Hurricane cocktail, served in lamp-shaped glass, on your side of the table. It has an orange wheel on the rim and two maraschino cherries in a stainless steel garnish pick.

“Can I have a straw, please?” You ask the waiter.

He kindly nods and steps away to retrieve one.

You side-eye Julian, gathering your thoughts, as you draw the curve of your glass, collecting the chill of the ice at the tip of your fingers.

“It’s for a book.” You exhale, somewhat more comfortable than a minute ago, but still unused to being at the other side of the interrogation.

“You’re a writer?”

“Something like that.” You utter unassumingly, as the waiter comes back with a metal straw. “Thank you.”

“Let me know if you need anything else.” He offers and goes around serving other tables.

Julian’s brow creases, picking on your light diminishing tone, “you don’t think you are?”

“No. I am.” You huff, trying to convince yourself, and repeat it more confidently this time, “I am.”

He licks his lips and takes a small sip of his drink; as you prop your elbows on the table and stir your drink with the straw, eyes momentarily distracted by the group of women crowding the bar at this very second.

“Why are you sitting here with me tonight, Julian?” Your stare returns to him.

“I wanted to meet you.”

“There are plenty of women at the bar right now who could be filling your pockets without a second thought.”

“Yet, here I am…” he doesn’t pay the slightest attention to anyone else in the lounge room and casually leans on the table, mirroring your position, “talking to you.”

“There's nothing special about me.”

“Oh, I think there is.” His browns pierce right through, trying to gauge everything that is to know about you.

You swallow and change one hurricane for another, finally sipping some of that tasty drink.

“How is it?”

“Hmm.” You pause, “delicious.”

Pleased with himself, he exhales watching you take a longer slurp.

“Are you gonna tell me about that book?”

Your shoulders shrug, “what do you want to know?”

“Anything.”

“Let’s see…” you buy some time, staring at those appealing cherries adorning your drink. Then, you bring the pick to your mouth, sucking the first one in and crushing it viciously fast while you gather your thoughts before giving him the bullet points. “It’s already written. My editor sent me here to back up some details, add some more background to it, and I think I already got what I was looking for. ”

“Is it your first book?” His tongue clicks wetly behind his lips after taking a swig.

You nod. “I’ve written short stories for magazines and collections, but nothing like this.”

“What is it about?”

“Mind that is fiction,” you warn a tad anxious, tapping on the rim of the glass with the metal pick between your fingers; explaining, “it’s about the sex industry, highly focused particularly on the point of view of an escort and the build up to the point where she’s most comfortable and the struggles she goes through after reaching a certain age.”

“Well, shit. That's the last thing I expected you to say.”

“You asked. Does it bother you?”

“Not at all. Is that why you are interviewing all those women?”

Nodding, “my first contact suggested this place, and after that I figured I should stick to it for all the others too.”

“What drew you to that subject?”

“Boredom.” You sigh long, “I don’t know, I like writing about women that are just the opposite of me and having to get into that mindset forgetting everything you know… it’s daunting.”

“You’re a voyeur.”

“Excuse me?” Your jaw drops, comically.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’ve seen you fixated and taking notes of anything around you, immersing yourself in other people's lives, literally like a spectator. You might not get off on it like you’d think other people do, but it excites you.”

“That’s… slightly accurate.” You have to admit.

“If that’s not voyeurism, then I don’t know what is.” His tongue runs quickly behind his lip, “I bet you’d like to write something about me on those pages.”

“I’ve considered it.” You bite on the second cherry, drawing a lopsided smile.

“What do you want to know?” It comes out dangerously sexy and low.

“Right now?” You contemplate for a beat, swallowing the sweet remains of the fruit, cocking your head, “I’d like to know where 200 bucks could get me with you.”

“You were right, you can’t afford me.” He chuckles. “That could only get you to book a room here for a night, sweetheart.”

“Do they have jacuzzi?”

“They do.”

“Then, I don’t need you at all.” You quip.

“I can provide something a hot tub can’t.”

“And what is that?”

You’d expect him to say something racy pointing to his masculinity, but no, he just gazes at you, spelling out, in all honesty, a simple, “comfort.”

You put a halt to the banter for a few minutes and take a bathroom break. Collecting yourself, you drink some water and touch up your makeup. Attempting to wrap your mind about the Julian of it all, and how he ended up at your table tonight, makes you dizzy and confused above anything else. This isn’t what you came here at all, yet you see yourself drawn to this mountain of a man, oozing irresistible charm and wits; and at this point you can’t tell if it’s real or sheer façade.

He's taken a different seat when you return to the table, on your right side instead of across. He stands up politely and waits for you to sit back down again.

Clearing your throat, you settle comfortably kicking your uncomfortable shoes under your chair as per usual, and casually lean back on the cushiony body of the chair.

“There's something I can't figure out.” His fingers brush your forearm for the first time, claiming your attention.

“What?”

“A couple nights ago, you went up. To one of the rooms, I suppose.” He motions with his head. “You followed a woman.”

“I did.”

“You're not going to tell me about that?”

“There's nothing to tell.” Lie.

You trap your bottom lip under your teeth.

“Are you sure?”

Sighing, your head bows, and you tense up again, folding your arms over the table.

“She…” you swallow, and your head turns to him, but you focus on his cupid’s bow while your secret comes out murmured. “She was meeting one of her regulars at the very last minute, told me he had a thing for being watched, and couldn't find an audience on time. So, she asked if I could watch them for a couple of hours, and assured me that was all I had to do. Just sit on a chair, first line, full porn, exclusively for my eyes.”

“And you did, huh?” One of his eyebrows arches.

You nod, sheepishly. “I had nothing better to do.”

“How was it?”

Your head weights to the side, measuring quickly what happened that night, “exhausting.”

“Elaborate.”

“I, uh, I got turned on almost immediately,” your mouth pulls up nervously as you explain. “They really went at it for almost two hours straight, with few little breaks. I think I saw more positions and heard more dirty talk than I've ever cared to learn. And at some point in the last hour, I wanted to claw my eyes out, but I couldn't botch this girl's gig. So, yeah, exhausting.”

“I called it earlier.” He huffs.

“Yeah, I'm a voyeur. Whatever. It was just one time.”

“Hey, I'm not judging.”

“It'd be truly hypocritical if you did.”

“I agree, sweetheart.”

“Have you ever had someone watching?”

“Why? Are you offering?” He quips.

You quickly wink at him, “you can't afford me.”

Scoffing, “I had mostly husbands who got a kick out of watching their wives being loved by another man.”

“Is that a thing?”

Nodding, “there are kinks for everyone.”

“What's yours?”

“Satisfying women.”

“Is that so?”

He leans closer, clearing his throat and pushing a hair strand off your neck, tickling your skin with the passing of his nails.

“Can I be blunt with you?” He licks his lips and swallows.

“I thought we were already.”

“I mean a little more… explicit.” Once again, he emulates your position, touching your elbow with his.

Curious. You brace yourself for shock. “Sure.”

His head swivels discreetly before stating low and sultry, near your ear, “there’s nothing more beautiful than making a woman drip down her leg, leaving the room knowing that she was completely sated and got what she paid for. Gets me off faster than anything else.”

You bite the inside of your mouth as your eyes get glossy, and feel your blood rushing to your center the closer he gets.

“That’s something.” You say, lacking a better answer. “I guess the money is not bad either.”

“The money is not bad either.” He agrees, grinning and watching you struggle on the spot. “What’s yours, sweetheart?”

“Mine? I don't have one.” You scoff, enumerating, “I'm pretty vanilla. I don’t like toys. I enjoy missionary and falling asleep next to someone touching my hair.”

“Yeah? What do you like about missionary?”

“It’s the most vulnerable position you could find yourself in.” You state, as one of your legs bounces anxiously underneath the table, “Setting aside rougher kinks and bondage, that’s a whole other word. Stripping down and offering your body that openly, trusting them not to crush you. And forcing yourself to stare and let that person see and feel your every breath, twitch, or reaction is one of the most raw, intimate things you could share with someone. At least for me. For some people… I figure it’s just sex and that’s okay too.”

“That’s very romantic. You oughta show me sometime. Would you?”

“Only if you show me how you make all those women drip.”

Your mouth curves up, realizing you’re practically invading each other’s space as the tension builds up.

Your anxious knee knocks his leg a couple of times, and his hand slides under the table, bringing it to a stop, “I think I’ve already had.”

“Not quite, yet, handsome,” you murmur, grazing his plush lips before sealing them shut.

Eliminating the space left between you two, your mouth opens, tasting the waters and slowly figuring out the shape of his kiss, as his whiskey-tinged lips part against yours. You’re the one to bring your tongue eagerly into the mix, creating an explosive cocktail, sensually curated for your own unique experience.

The hand clutching to your knee digs its fingers harder and your pulse pumps faster, wishing it would slip under the skirt of your dress instead. You hum, pushing your knee further apart as a hint, but he oddly takes it away and frames your face instead, breaking the kiss.

“Not here, sweetheart.”

Chapter 3: Gigolo Kit

Julian agrees to drive to the motel you’re staying at.

For some reason, it felt weird at the moment to split the bill for a room at La Palma or allowing him to pay a whole night just for a fuck. It was pretty funny to see his face considering getting a room in his unofficial workplace. So, you settle in your motel instead and head off, with him driving his convertible behind your rental.

Suffice to say, you still have a few reservations about this entire night, you grow unsettled on the drive and when pulling up, you stay in the driver’s seat, asking yourself what the hell are you doing.

He climbs out of his car, approaches your window, and waits for you to roll it down.

“You’re not gonna murder me, are you?”

His lips purse, amused, taking a good look around the parking lot, quipping, “well, you took me to the right place to do so.”

“Stop, I’m being serious.”

“Look, I get it. We can shake hands right here and call it a night if you’ve changed your mind or just having second thoughts. We could go back and let me take care of the room situation if that makes you feel safer. There’s no wrong answer here.”

Thinking for a beat, your nape falls against the headrest. “Can I have your name? Your full name?”

“Would it make it easier for you?”

Nodding, you fish for your phone in your purse as he produces his wallet, taking out his driver’s license and showing it to you.

“Julian Kaye.” You scan it suspiciously close to see that it is real.

“That’s right.”

Typing quickly on your phone, you shoot a message to one of your closest friends, indicating where you’re staying at and with whom. Something that you and your friends have been doing for a while as a precaution.

You inhale and step out of the car, with him holding the door open and closing it behind you.

“Did you tell someone?”

You nod, locking the car with the remote key as he takes your free one, lacing fingers with you.

“Smart girl.”

“I didn’t say anything about…”

“What I do.”

You shake your head.

“You know I’m not gonna pay you, right?”

He chuckles lightly, “you’ve made that clear, sweetheart.”

You lead him up to the second floor and inside your room. After turning on the light on the nightstand, the room appears to be nicer than what the place shows up from the outside. You have your best clothes hanging in the closet and your untidy suitcase open by the bed. Your foot quickly kicks that underneath before tossing your bag on the chair and excusing yourself to the bathroom, needing a minute to pull yourself together.

You’re either too gullible to see otherwise or letting your sex drive cloud your better judgment, because you actually believe he’s genuinely into you and seeks no other than having a good time tonight. That’s all that is, you tell yourself before coming out of the bathroom.

Meanwhile, he has removed his blazer, and now he stands in the middle of the room, hands tucked in his pockets casually, gaze focused on the run-of-the-mill painting above the TV.

“Can I get you anything?” You step out of your stilettos, shrinking your height considerably.

“No.” He utters softly, turning to you and extending his hands to your waist, pulling you closer. “Are you still nervous?”

“A little.” You run your palms over his arms up to his shoulders, measuring his toned muscles over the fabric of his dress shirt.

He sways your body to ease you up, flashing a shy smile, “I’m not gonna hurt you, okay?”

“Okay.” You repeat, almost soundless, placing your cheek against his chest and hugging his neck, as one of his hands slips into the back of your hair, massaging nicely on your scalp.

You close your eyes, sighing, “I’m sorry I was braver at the bar.”

“It’s all right. Take your time, sweetheart.” He kisses your hair and keeps rocking you sweetly, as if you were dancing.

“Hmm. That feels good.”

“Yeah? I had someone clue me in on that.”

He’s proven to be constantly fast to come up with something to swoon you every other minute. Now, it’s his fingers and the mellow tone of his voice that you couldn't appreciate at the bar. Then, comes the intoxicating citrus scent, imprinted all over his clothes, invading and having your nose searching for his exposed neck above the collar of his shirt. His head angles backwards, and you feel his Adam's apple moving at the passing of your lips. He hums, most delighted, as your hands slide to loosen the knot of his tie. Pulling it over his head, you continue with his buttons all the way down, then tug his shirt open and push it off his shoulders.

Pressing your teeth on your lower lip, you scan the smooth, defined contours of his torso that shows a tattoo on his left pec and a ridiculous collection of muscles that you’re not sure if you could name. Unable to stop yourself, you run your fingers down his stomach to his lower abdomen, tracing the V-line pointing to his cock, witnessing his suit pants swelling up below his belt at your touch.

Stopping your hands from reaching further down, he cups them tight in his large palms and kisses your knuckles before framing your jaw and claiming your mouth like he’s been wanting to. Tentatively, he explores your mouth for a few seconds, mildly sucking your lower lip and pecking your top one before going all in, linking his tongue with yours; firmly stroking your cheeks at the same time.

Clinging to his sides, you sigh through your nose, as he steals all the wind out of you. You can’t help but moan-mumble his name, and you pull away to grab some air. He exhales as you press your body flush against him, locking your arms around his torso. Your teeth scrape around his collarbone, while his hands fumble along your back, searching for the zipper of your dress. He brushes your hair away and you brace yourself harder to his back, hearing the hiss of the zipper going down before noting his fingers tips tracing your spine. Your skin breaks into goose flesh, sending a nice tremor all over your body.

You ease into every caress, wondering at moments if this is just him or the professional act you’ve been observing for a week. Perhaps a mix of both. Let’s be honest, he does this for a living. It’d be really naïve to think that he hasn’t touched a woman exactly like this before. At this moment, the rational part of your brain is being overpowered by lust only and doesn’t care much for analyzing who you are dealing with tonight.

Shrugging out of the sleeves, Julian pushes the top of your dress down to bunch at your waist before handling your body, turning you around and pressing himself against your back. Gasping, you send one arm to loop around his head, reeling him into your neck, where his tongue juts out to trace the curve up to your earlobe. He keeps mouthing on your skin, as one of his arms locks around your middle section, keeping you in place, while the other pushes under the fabric of your dress, pressing over your panties.

“This is what you wanted at the bar?” He hisses in your ear.

“Yes,” your breath hitches, having his fingers rub steadily on you.

“You wanted to be watched?”

“No.”

“Be honest.”

You laugh softly, unable to focus, “I don't… I just wanted you to touch me.”

“Like this?” He slips further down to your tease at your entrance, coaxing your first drops to spill out.

Your answer comes out moaned, and he tucks his fingers under the elastic of your underwear to caress your tender flesh. Your vision fades around the edges, and you have to grip on his forearm when his thumb finds your clit and starts circling around it.

“You’re fucking soaked.”

No, shit.

Tiptoeing, your hips push backwards, pressing your ass against his crotch.

“Fuck me.”

You feel him hum on your neck before pulling your dress down to your feet. One of your thigh-highs slips past your knee, and you wiggle your foot out of it.

His palm draws the curve of your hip, pushing you forwards. Ordering, “get on the bed.”

Swallowing, exhilarated, you turn around and sit on the edge of the mattress as he goes down on one knee to take the other stocking off your leg. He rolls it down and tosses it aside with the other. Then, he sweetly kisses your knee and the middle of your thigh before sending his hands to unclasp your bra with practiced ease. Taking it off you, your nipples harden before his eyes, as you get a second wave of prickles forming all over your body from just him staring at you.

“You’re so beautiful.” He rasps low, getting stuck for a moment, extending his hand to cup your face.

The corner of your mouth pulls up, kissing the heel of his palm. As much of our body is aching all over, you appreciate that slow down.

His face changes again when he stands up, grinning playfully and making sure you see him taking off his belt, pants, and underwear. He’s gone mildly limp when his cock springs into sight, but it doesn’t make him any smaller at all.

Pressing your lips in a line, you scoot backwards, getting rid of your panties and laying on the bed, observing him grab something from his jacket’s pocket before getting back to you.

Crawling over your body, he leaves at hand a different sort of wallet and extends your arms above your head, peppering kisses all over your chest.

“What’s that?” Your head motions, scanning the thing, it seems more plushy and has a zipper that goes along three of its sides.

“Protection.” He mumbles against your skin.

Your brow knits, “you’re clean, right?”

“I am, and plan on staying that way.”

He nestles between your legs and your hips slant up to him to feel his hardness fully swelling. Taking that as a hint, he fits himself in your folds and grinds hard and long, collecting all your juices around him. Almost killing you in anticipation at how thick he feels.

“You're so big.” Your thoughts spill out of your mouth.

“You make me big.” He groans right back.

Noticing the frustration in your half-moan, he pecks your mouth and pushes himself to his knees, grabbing the wallet and unzipping it. You eye one side has a band holding a few condoms and the other, harboring lubricant packets and some other that you can’t identify.

He rolls one on and sends his fingers to trace your opening. Balling the sheets, your breathing hitches when he probes two inside and circles around, massaging slowly, as your walls soften at the edge of his fingertips.

“You're gonna make me come.”

“That's the idea.” He pats lightly on your thigh with his free hand, coaxing you low, “relax for me, would you? ”

Inhaling, you close your eyes, and he carefully pushes another one in, as your muscles clench involuntarily around him. It feels a little cramped, but it doesn’t hurt for what he’s doing.

“Easy.” His fingers slip out and reach to grab one of the packets as you lean on your elbows, giving him a look.

“You're a little tight. Said, I don't wanna hurt you.” Ripping the corner of the container, he squeezes the gel on his fingers, “it’s water-based vegan. Totally harmless.”

“I don't even care if you use spit at this point.” You huff, wondering, “what else do you have in your… Gigolo Kit? Some blue pills, maybe?”

“Blue pills? How old do you think I am?” He scoffs, directing his fingers to extend the lube over your folds and entrance generously, causing your body to quiver, letting your back fall against the mattress.

“Gigolo Kit.” He snorts after processing your remark, “don’t call it that.”

Licking his lips, he lowers his body on top of you, adjusting your legs and finally, guiding himself inside. You can tell now why he needed all that preparation beforehand; he slides in partly, but your walls act up, straining against the hardness that pushes between your lips. You shift a little and consciously breathe to let go of that tension and take it all in.

“Are you good like that, sweetheart?” Capturing your eyes, he leans on his forearms, on each side of your head, tracing the line of your hair with a thumb.

Nodding, “yeah, just… be careful.”

Pressing a smile on your forehead, his hips start rocking experimentally with great care and there goes the vulnerability that you mentioned earlier, skyrocketing through every cell; knowing that he could break you any second but trusting that he won’t. You awkwardly keep shifting your legs for better comfort. It happens when you tilt your ass up to him and tuck your legs higher, that the pressure ebbs, and you find your hands pushing on his bottom a little harder.

“There you go.” You feel him smoothly fitting all in one motion, and you urge him to up the pace. “How does it feel now?”

“Good,” you exhale, panting, “so fucking good, Julian.”

Moving easily with him, your foreheads meet, breathing over each other before trapping his groans in your mouth. Your nails glide up his back to hold onto his shoulder blades, bringing him even closer to you if that’s possible. The pleasure builds up fast and the only sound clouding the room is your bodies colliding over and over, as his drive becomes more urgent

Your nails sink bluntly in his back and his lip curls, breaking from the kiss to frame your chin instead. Forcing his eyes on yours, he measures your every reaction, beautifully struggling to find your release. Moaning his name, he pushes sharply at the same pace, without breaking a sweat, until your body nearly shatters underneath him. The orgasm hits you so hard, your mind doesn’t even register when he finds his release; you see it after when he pulls out and the latex is literally impregnated by his fluids.

Rolling to the side, a little winded, it feels warm all over and leaves you so relaxed your eyes bat slowly, and you have to fight the urge of falling asleep. He’s about to stand up when you reach for his arm, asking him to hold you.

“I’ll be right back.” He strokes your hair and disappears behind the bathroom door for a minute.

After turning off the light, you're facing him, using his arm as a pillow and snuggling against his chest. Noting your body cooling down, he tugs the sheet to cover your skin before draping his arm around you.

“Mind if I close my eyes for a beat.”

“No, no at all. Go ahead, sweetheart.”

“Promise again you're not gonna murder me in my sleep.”

“You're adorable, you know that?” He laughs softly, “I promise I won't.”

Shutting your eyes, you don’t fall completely asleep, but rest for a few minutes. One of your arms curls around his midsection, as he traps your top leg between his. Your head tilts forward touching his collarbone, noticing his fingers slipping at the back of your hair, caressing softly all over your nape.

The sound of a TV blasting suddenly through the wall pulls you from your drowsiness, and you inhale the warm scent surrounding you like a blanket. Sighing, you feel him shift and greet you quietly as your lips pucker against his breastbone, unconsciously leaving a trail of slow kisses up to his neck, where your mouth parts to nibble on his skin with more purpose now. He drags his palms all over you, rounding past your ass and prodding two fingers inside your slicked walls, as one of your hands tentatively wraps around his length. Realizing, you didn’t get to touch him like this earlier, you jerk him slow, getting his cock to fill your fist easily.

Julian’s grunts rumble in his throat and you up the pace. The tip of your tongue traces the perfect shape of his mouth before sliding inside, kissing him more viciously than earlier.

Almost without words, you shift together, finding a new position with your back to him, as he puts a new condom on and slips into you with no effort in either part. It feels greater than before, all your muscles are utterly relaxed now, and you keep melting in his bubble as he wraps himself around you, having one of his arms curled around your neck, hand clutching to your breast; as the other hand tucks between your legs, rubbing deliciously on your clit at the same time he pushes into you.

“Take it.” You hiss, noting his cock twitching wildly inside you. “Come for me, Julian.”

Growling under his breath, his teeth scrape your shoulder, while his hips snap against your ass, increasing the rhythm to the extent that you almost come together. He goes off first and if you couldn’t tell before, you feel it all this time around. His hands clasp on you so hard, it almost hurts. His mouth echoes a moan against your skin when his ultimate release hits your walls behind the sheer latex, as your entrance spasms around him, sending all your juices racing down your thigh. You cry out loudly, grabbing that hand between your legs and bringing it to a stop.

Heaving together, the air coming from his mouth and nose hits your shoulder. You direct his fingers to your leg, showing him the mess he’s made out of you. Kissing your earlobe, he purrs how beautiful you are like that directly into your ear.

Chapter 4: Red Roses & Pink Carnations

Julian Kaye left like an asshole before you woke up. No note or goodbye left, only his smell lingering on the cheap sheets that you got rid of immediately before breakfast.

You can’t figure out why it made you upset. You truly had no expectations other than sex. It was just a fuck. You keep repeating yourself like an idiot. Deep down, it felt like more, at least on your part. There was chemistry, even before you touched each other, you didn’t make that up.

Bringing yourself to finish what you came here to, you meet the last two girls, choosing a plain coffee shop down the street to avoid catching him in the lounge.

On your last day in Los Angeles, you receive a bouquet of flowers on your door with no message other than a business card. It has his name and number printed on it, in a small envelope clipped between a mass of red roses and pink carnations.

What kind of game is he playing?

It only makes you furious, and you rip the card into a million pieces directly into the trash can. You’d do the same with the flowers if they weren’t so pretty. You divide it into little bouquets and leave one on each door of the motel, keeping a couple of roses and carnations for yourself.

You’re weak, you admit to yourself while packing everything during the afternoon before your flight. You take a shower and go on a walk along the beach in the evening and when you reach your car, you end up driving to La Palma for one last time.

There's not many people in the lounge, but Julian’s there, sitting at the bar alone with a drink in front of an empty stool next to him.

Swallowing, you walk towards the bar, hoping no one notices you’re in your jeans and plain t-shirt, and take a seat on the free stool on his other side.

He sees you in the mirror and despite the shock in his eyes, he keeps it together and only stares at you in the reflection.

“What are you doing here?” He rasps low.

“You left the other night.” You breathe just as quiet, crossing your arms tensely on the edge of the bar.

Uttering dryly, “that was the deal.”

“Then, why the flowers?”

His head tilts and you see him hesitating. “I… I can’t do this right now.”

Sighting, you close your eyes for a second. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.” He pauses, “you shouldn’t have come here.”

Shaking your head, “no, I shouldn’t have.”

A woman suddenly shows up, casually kissing his cheek before taking that other seat next to him. His expression changes completely to greet her back like nothing’s wrong.

You send your feet to touch the floor and head in the direction of the restroom without looking back. Crossing the archway leading to a small hallway, you enter the room and wipe a couple tears sliding out the corner of your eyes before washing your face and hands.

When you come out, he’s waiting for you, leaning on the wall next to the door, appearing rueful after all.

“What the hell do you want now?”

“I’m sorry…” He says your name so low it hurts, and you have to brace yourself from breaking. “I’m really sorry I didn’t say goodbye. I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Cause you’d have asked me to stay.”

Your head bows, unsure of how to respond to that, as his posture straightens before you.

“Am I wrong?”

Shaking your head. “You could have left a note.”

“I didn’t know what to say. That’s why I put my card in the flowers.”

“I wasn’t a client, Julian.”

“No, you weren’t.” He affirms. “You’re much more.”

Sighing, “what am I supposed to do with that?”

“I have no idea.” His lips pull up nervously. “I just needed you to know.”

“Well, I’m leaving tomorrow.” You shrug, tucking your hands in your pockets. “I guess I got my answer, and you should get back to…” your head motions towards the archway a few feet away, and you huff promptly at the ridiculous situation you’ve put yourself in tonight.

“Let me drive you to the airport.”

“I can’t let you do that, I have to return the car.”

“I…” he pauses to think for a beat, “I’ll go with you and take a cab after.”

Your lips purse briefly, “why?”

“Cause there's something between us, sweetheart. You wouldn't have come here otherwise.” He flashes a smile. “I thought it’d be easier to stay away, but watching you, sitting there, downright threw me off my game…” trailing off, “I know it’s a long shot, but we could keep talking, see if we can be more.”

“I live almost a thousand miles away, we could never make that work. ”

“I’ll answer any of your questions for that notebook of yours, anything you want to know.”

Tempting.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” Your brow arches.

“Is that a yes?”

“Sure,” you half-nod.

#julian kaye x reader #american gigolo #julian kaye #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal smut #jon bernthal #fanfiction #darlingwrites #expensive delights #don't mind me #just uploading these here properly before posting the third part

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