#;;pictures can speak || moodboard

[crunchycrystals]

melancholic hopefulness of fake out save me

[vonlipvig]

look, the i can see you music video is cute, the message comes across loud and clear and i love it for it. that said, oh i wish it had been sexy.

she wasn't that far off, the heist idea is great, but in my head i have a whole MV for it. consider it: spies, 60s-ish aesthetics, fisheye lens shots as if you're seeing through a door peephole, and a hell of a lot of chemistry between the leads.

y'know, something like this ↓

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 5 (Part One)

Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Chapter Summary: You let Mister Miller help you out of a slump and learn you might like a little pain

WC: 8.9k

CW: Reader as some descriptors (freckles, long hair etc) so this might be more of an original character vs female reader. Dom/Sub dynamics, pet names (sweet girl, baby, baby girl etc). More CW in red below the cut but will contain spoilers.

AN: THANK YOU for being sooooo patient with me while I delayed this chapter. This is only HALF of the chapter and as soon as my lovely @lotusbxtch beta's the other half I will post it. No pressure thought, bb!! I just couldn't WAIT to share this since you've all been so wonderful and supportive. Moodboard by me, dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

CW: riding crop, oral (male and female receiving), male masturbation, female orgasms, hand cuffs, deep throating/face fucking, descriptions of self doubt and panic attacks; reader is going through it, ok? Hair pulling, Joel is a bit mean but he does it with love and care. Joel being a consent and aftercare king.

Joel

Joel sits on the Trocadéro platform of Café de l’Homme, the birds chirping and the sound of rustling papers keeping him from getting too lost in his thoughts of you. Sarah sits across from him, a stunning view of the Eiffel Tower to their left, and a buying agreement typed out in French taking up most of the table. Joel might not look like it, but he can see himself eventually living out his years in either Paris or Italy. He speaks enough French and Italian to get by, but relies on Sarah to read over the contract for her new condo. His baby girl is a doctor and now that she’s almost a year into her surgery residency, this condo is her graduation present finally coming to fruition. 

He looks down at his phone, opening the text thread he has with you. He’s been trying to give you space to study this week, telling himself each day that this isn’t what you signed up for but he can’t help himself, and when you responded with a selfie of yourself in your maid discreetly polo the other day he knew there was no way he’d be able to keep that pledge to himself anymore. Joel looks at the time, factoring in the time change, and your LSAT retake is in a few hours. His thumbs move on their own.

Good Morning. Good luck on your LSAT today.

He attaches a picture of the coffee he had that morning before hitting send. 

The waiter comes by to take their orders, Sarah’s French flowing from her lips as easily as she breathes, happily telling the waiter what both her and her dad will have. Joel mutters a ‘merci’ as the waiter nods. 

Thank you. That coffee looks a lot better than mine.

A selfie of you, all pink cheeked and smiling follows. A paper to go cup with a plastic lid in your hand beside your face. 

Were you running?

“How’s it going over there?” Joel says over his phone screen to Sarah, her focus is intent on the stack of papers in front of her. 

“Shh, I’m reading,” she says lightly as the waiter opens an expensive looking bottle of white wine and pours a little for her to try. After taking her small sip and nodding at the waiter she looks to her dad. “What? I thought we were celebrating!”

He shakes his head, laughing at his daughter as both of them look back at what they were doing.

Yes. I run most mornings. Gotta clear my head.

What’s bothering you, sweet girl?

You know, you calling me that has the same effect as me calling you Mister Miller.

Ok, we’ll just call each other by our names then.

Joel is so wrapped up in his little bubble with you that he doesn’t notice Sarah sitting back and watching him as she sips her wine.

That’s no fun, let’s come up with safe nicknames.

He feels the side of cheek tug up. She’s so fucking cute.

Alright, I’m calling you giggles

What am I, a rodeo clown?

Joel laughs silently to himself, not realizing that he’s sporting a full and cheesy ear to ear grin across his face. 

Fine - Freckles

Eww, that’s what the mean girls in high school used to call me

Well the hot, successful man who owns a sex club and supplies your orgasms finds your freckles incredibly sexy. What’s my safe nickname?

“Who are you texting?” Sarah says, her voice thick with amusement. 

Joel clicks his phone shut, laying it face down on the table. He wipes the smile off his face and looks up at Sarah like a child who just got caught stealing candy. “No one. Just work stuff.”

“Uh huh, sure dad. I know that smile. Did you meet someone?”

Joel grabs his wine, taking a larger drink then necessary. A drink of someone who’s lying. There’s no way he can tell his daughter about this. Sure, Sarah knows about the club but they never talk about what goes on there. “No! Of course not. I’m too busy for that.”

Her eyes blink to his phone as it vibrates on the table, but he keeps his attention on Sarah, his wine glass looking comically small in his large hand. “I’ll just ask uncle Tommy.”

“Funny story, he’s been removed from the family.” He deadpans.

“Tess will tell me then,” Sarah says, her and her dad both challenging each other jokingly.

“Who? Never heard of a Tess before,” Joel says, crossing his arms. 

Sarah laughs into her wine glass, “Ok dad. Look, I want you to meet someone, so don’t hold back on my account. Seriously, you’re a catch and have been alone for a long time.”

“I don’t want to talk about it with you, Sarah. Not yet at least.” His phone vibrates again and she cocks an eyebrow before going back to her papers.

Joel scoops up his phone to read your texts.

Huh, suddenly I’m over being bullied. Weird.  Oh, I have the peeerrrfect nickname for you!

Go on, Freckles…

Sweet Cheeks, cuz seriously Miller, dat ass. 

Daaaammmnn!

You’re treading on mighty thin ice, baby girl 

Joel, I have a serious question…

Go on?

Are your suit pants tailored TO your ass?!

Joel chokes on his wine, trying to stifle his laugh.

“Alright, who is she?”

“Fine. I met someone, but she’s really young, like younger than you, Sarah. And she’s leaving soon for law school so it’s just best if I don’t talk about it.”

Sarah smiles at her dad. “First of all, I don’t care if she’s younger than me, especially seeing you smile like that. Do you have any idea how many of the girls at college wanted you? You're my dad, so it’s gross to say, but you were the campus DILF.”

Joel feels himself blushing as she continues, “Second of all, you don’t have to end things just because of school. Me and Wyatt maintained our relationship while I was in New York and he was in Seattle.” As she wiggles the pear shaped diamond on her left hand the waiter brings out their food, and Joel changes the subject to the condo that he just bought for his incredible daughter. 

Our little girl did it, Tiff. Thank you for giving her to me, he thinks.

You

“That’s time, everyone,” The proctor calls from the front of the stuffy, windowless room that you and forty five other law school hopefuls have been in for just over three hours. 

You let out a slow breath, cheeks puffing and eyes fluttering closed. You didn’t finish, last time you finished, and the proctor has been eyeing you the entire time. He knows, he fucking knows you aren’t nearly as qualified or as smart as the rest of the people in this room. That line from Gilmore Girls, something about having shiny Harvard hair is all your anxiety can focus on. The people in this room have Havard hair, even the men. You don’t belong here.

You’ve never been in a lower spot and after the high of the flirty text conversation with Joel this morning you didn’t anything could get you down. In the span of just a few hours you’ve been completely torn apart, you can feel the panic attack clawing greedily at your chest. You fucking blew it, all of it. You blew your chances at law school, you blew your future as a lawyer and, in turn, your future as a judge. You’ll be cleaning houses forever, and not that there’s anything wrong with being a professional maid, but it’s not your goal.

Maybe I was fucking stupid for only having one goal. Maybe I need to do something else with my degree. Maybe my father was right, I’m nothing and I’ll always be nothing. Maybe my mother was right too, I’m the smartest girl at home but the world is going to chew me up and spit me out. It’s doing that right now, isn’t it? 

Your feet take you to the locker where your phone’s been locked up, and then out to your car. You don’t notice the warm late March air when you leave the testing building and there's a good chance that you jay walked, narrowly missing being hit by a car as you walked to the parking lot. Before turning the key in the ignition you open your phone, there’s a little red bubble on the JMK app. When you tap on it you have a new calendar section and Joel has invited you to the club tomorrow night. You stare down at it, waiting and hoping to feel something. That excited giddiness you usually feel, or the butterflies that typically erupt in your stomach, but nothing comes. You close out of the app without accepting the invite and drive home. 

A soft knock on your door pulls you from the anxiety-ridden nightmares you’ve been slipping in and out of. In the first one, you were having your degree taken away. In the second, you were sitting on the end of the bed in Joel’s private room looking out a window into the voyeur room. Joel was walking another woman around, similar to how he did with you the first time. The one that your roommate interrupted involved you being completely naked while trying to find your first class at Harvard.

“Babe?” Odette’s calm voice fills your room, “You ok?”

You tap your phone screen: 9 pm. You’ve been passed out all afternoon and evening. 

“Ya, just had a hard day.” You try to move out from the blankets, but they’re tangled around your limbs; a clear sign that you were restless in your sleep.

“Are you hungry? I ordered pizza. You have a few more college letters too, I think three were in the mailbox today.” Her voice is light and excited, as if she’s trying to pump you up. 

“Thanks, O. I’ll, umm, I’ll be out in a sec.”

The door shuts gently and the tears finally come. Five minutes, you tell yourself, before you start sobbing into your pillow to not alert Odette. After your allotted crying time is up, you open your phone. Messages from Jamie and Laren are left on read before you slide into the JMK app and accept Joel's request to meet at the club tomorrow night. You join Odette for a late dinner, but there’s no way you’re opening those letters tonight. 

Cap drops you off outside of the club the next night. This seems to be the officially unofficial routine of being Joel’s sub and you aren’t sure why. Cap confirmed last time that he didn’t do this for the other girls; you don’t deserve special treatment.

Any treatment, really, you think. Even the little box of feelings in your mind feels the same way, sulking sadly in the dark corner you banished it to. 

The black marble foyer feels cold and mocking tonight, even with the beautiful hostess smiling brightly and greeting you by name. As you turn towards the entrance to the club, a man dressed in an impeccable black suit holds his arm out for you. 

“Good evening, Miss. Joel asked me to escort you to his room tonight.”

You nod, forcing a smile and a thank you. All this black feels like he’s walking you to your own funeral. As you step into the club there are people everywhere. Couples are dancing, people are taking up the tables and the barstools. The deep bass of the music thumps through the club and the nagging pressure behind your right eye threatens to pop it right from its socket. 

The security guard holds his wrist to the pad on the door and holds it open for you.

“Thanks,” you say again through another fake smile. 

The door clicks behind you and the music dulls, the only light on this side of the door comes from the propped open door of Mister Miller’s room. You rap your knuckles lightly on the door frame and Joel steps into view. Your eyes travel from his shiny black dress shoes, up the perfectly tailored black dress pants and fitted white dress shirt. His sleeves are rolled to his elbows, exposing the strong muscle lined forearms that usually drive you wild. You stand there, waiting and hoping to feel something, but just like in your car yesterday, nothing comes. Meanwhile, he’s smiling at you as if he’s just discovered the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. 

“Hi, my sweet girl,” Joel’s voice usually coats you like warm molasses, especially when he calls you his. But the rejection letters feel like they have plastered themselves onto you, seemingly creating a hard shell, keeping that miserable gray fog from escaping. 

“Hi, Mister Miller,” you say obediently, hoping he doesn’t notice anything is wrong. 

He motions for you to come inside, and pulls you into his arms as the door quietly clicks shut behind you. You wrap yours around his waist subconsciously as he presses his lips to your forehead. You’re sure the two of you have embraced like this before but right now it feels foreign. “What’s wrong?”

Fuck.

“Nothing. I’m sorry, it’s just been a long few days. I’m sorry, I can go. I don’t want to drag you down.” Your hands fist his dress shirt, a silent cry for him to not let you leave as an annoying dry lump forms in your throat. 

“Hey, no. Don’t be sorry, baby girl.” His hands run long, slow lines up and down your back as he brings his forehead to meet yours.

The pounding of the music on the other side of the club fades away completely as his eyes melt into yours. It's absurd that you missed him, isn’t it? You are his submissive, nothing else. But when he looks at you the way he is now it’s hard to remember up from down. The pressure behind your eye dissipates as one of his hands cups the nape of your neck and squeezes gently. From the outside eye, you could almost argue that he’s acting as if he missed you too.

His voice is a soft whisper as he continues, “Did you want to talk about it?”

Maybe it’s his years of experience as a dom and taking care of his subs. Or maybe this is just normal for him, but you aren’t used to someone wanting to talk about it. You’re used to a quick hug and a shitty pep talk. His hands felt heavenly on your clothed body, but as they brush against the bare skin of your neck to cup your cheeks they’re out of this world. This strong, successful, handsome man is giving you his full attention, wants to give you his full attention, and as his nose runs down yours it finally happens. 

Your body is flooded with that familiar desire. Your breathing catches as you practically moan, “No, I need you to make me forget. Help me, Mister Miller. Please?”

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, exposing that dimple that makes him so damn endearing as he pulls his face back from yours. “I’m going to push you tonight, sweet girl.” He slides your faux leather jacket off, letting it hit the floor. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, Mister Miller,” you say, your voice turning husky. 

His eyes dance around your features and with a single blink he switches. You don’t think you could ever describe it, but it’s like he puts on a mask. His soft brown eyes turn almost onyx, the muscles in his jaw seem flexed, but it’s his voice that really gives away when he’s transformed into his fully dominant form. Joel’s voice is deep yet has a soft aura. Mister Miller's voice on the other hand is full of gravel, and nothing is a suggestion. 

“Take off your clothes.”

Joel steps back, watching as you slip your bare feet out of your sandals. You felt underdressed tonight, but you just couldn’t convince yourself to put together an outfit. Your denim shorts and oversized black t-shirt come off easily and after stepping out of your shorts you look up at Mister Miller. His tongue runs along his bottom lip as he takes you in, eyes widening at your lack of bra and panties tonight.

“Dirty little girl.” He accentuates every word as his eyes travel a burning path up and down your exposed skin and then to the side of the room behind you. “See that pillow?”

You spin slowly, a black velvet pillow sits on the floor, handcuffs hanging above it from a chain connected to the ceiling. You look over your bare shoulder at Joel who simply juts his chin towards it in a silent command. As you walk towards the pillow, the metallic clink of his ring hitting the ceramic dish washes over you. Goosebumps spread across your skin and you feel the anxiety leaving your body. The doubt that has been screaming at you dulls to a barely-there whisper. For a second you feel weightless, floating towards the black pillow like the little styrofoam packing peanuts you used to place in rain run off as a kid.

‘No one has ever made you feel like this’. The little box of feelings says from the dark, ‘He’d take care of you, if you let him.’ You push that box deeper into the archives of your mind as you stop in front of the pillow.

Joel’s voice is deep, almost a menacing growl from behind you as he says, “Kneel.”

Your mind shuts off completely as you comply, dropping to your knees, facing the wall, and tucking your feet underneath you.

“Toes planted on the floor, sweet girl.” You adjust how you're sitting, exposing the soles of your feet to Joel as he walks towards you, his expensive dress shoes clicking slightly on the hardwood. You can feel the heat of his body as he stops just inches from your bare skin. “Good. Hands up.”

His touch is gentle as he places the cuffs around your wrists. “What’s your safeword?”

“Stegosaurus,” you say softly.

“Louder!” He barks.

You jump slightly before saying it again with confidence, “Stegosaurus.”

Joel takes a small step towards the wall and tugs the other end of the chain to pull it tighter, stretching your arms up above your head. You’re almost lifted off your knees. A small piece of leather running up and down your spine and your breathing starts to speed up. The anticipation of what’s to come almost has you bursting at the seams.

“This is a riding crop. You said you’re interested in impact play, as well as paddles, whips and crops. Is that correct?”

You nod, your throat going dry and voice cracking as you say, “Yes, Mister Miller.”

“How’d your LSAT go, baby?”

“I…I th-think I failed,” you murmur.

A sharp snapping sound fills the room, quickly followed by red hot pain on your right ass cheek; you gasp at the sensation.

The soft leather goes back to tracing your spine, slowly up and down, almost feather light and ticklish. “Again, how did your LSAT go?”

“I’m sorry, Mister Miller. But,” your try to swallow the dry lump in your throat. “I think I failed.”

As if he’s had years of sniper training, he strikes you in the exact same spot. This time your body jerks, the chains rattling above you as you cry out. However, the heat of this strike spreads right to your clit, and your cry morphs into a whine of pleasure.

“Sweet girl, do you belong to me?” He trails the leather along your hip, slowly teasing up your side.

“Y-Yes, Mister Miller.” 

“Does it look like I own things that aren’t perfect?” The soft end of the crop continues its trail, over the side of your breast and to your armpit.

“No.” You whisper. 

I can’t do this, he’s going to ask me to say I’m perfect and I can’t do it. 

“I don’t appreciate you talking bad about something I own.” A strike lands on the sole of your left foot, you hadn’t even realized the crop had moved from your arm. He taps the foot again, lighter this time but the pain from the first strike hasn’t ceased, a strangled cry passes your lips. “Especially when what you’re talking about is yourself.”

Another strike hits your right ass cheek and the red hot stings of it causes you to shoot up onto your knees. The chains above you rattle and go slack. Joel makes a noise similar to a growl behind you before two quick snaps land on the back of both of your thighs. “Kneel, sweet girl.”

You’re shocked by the moans and gasps that are filling the room, sounds that are unconsciously coming from your own mouth. Your pussy is throbbing and as you settle back onto your heels you realize how wet you are. You didn’t think you’d like this this much. 

“You need to learn how to stay still without being tied down.”

“Sorry, Mister Miller,” you whine through the panting breaths you’re taking. 

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, striking your left cheek and then gently rubbing along your ass. “How did your LSAT go?”

“I…It…I don’t know,” you say defeatedly.

He hits the sole of your left foot again, then your right ass cheek and this time your body acts on its own, your hips tilting to push your ass out towards Joel, a needy moan filling the room. “Come on, baby girl. Use your words.”

“It was harder then I remember,” you hum, your body practically vibrating with need. God, you can’t believe how good this feels.

The crop makes a slow line from the top of your ass, up your spine again and you tense up, sucking in a big breath. “Relax, my sweet girl. Until we talk about it, I will never strike you anywhere above the waist.”

“In fact,” he continues. “Anywhere here,” he draws a big circle along your entire lower back, “Should never, ever, be hit.”

“Ok, th-thank you.” You sink onto your heels again, your inner thighs are almost slippery with how turned on you are. 

Joel laughs lightly, “You’re welcome. So, it was harder than you remember?”

“Y-yes. I think I failed, Joel.” As soon you say it, you know you’ve fucked up. Eight quick, sharp snaps of the crop hit; two on each ass cheek and two on each foot, all at random. It’s over faster than you can apologize, and the walls of your pussy spasm with each crack of leather on skin. “Sorry, Mister Mill, hnng, M-Miller.”

Your head falls back, eyes fluttering closed as he speaks. “Again, it was harder than you remember?”

You whine before whispering, “Yes, but I tried my hardest.”

“Up,” Joel commands, pulling the chain so you’re up on your knees. “Good girl. Spread your legs.”

He bends down behind you, the heat of his broad upper body warming your back. His strong hands grip your waist to steady you as you walk your knees out. “That’s it, good job sweet girl.”

His praise shifts everything. Sure, maybe you failed, but you are stronger than a little test. You are bigger than law school. If you don’t get in, you’ll try again and you’ll keep on trying, because you can do anything. A bright light shines on the little box of feelings.

The crop lightly tapping your inner thigh brings your back to the moment. “Please, Mister Miller.”

“You don’t have to ask, sweet girl. If this is enough to make you come then let go for me.” He whispers, trailing the leather of the crop up your thigh before trailing down the other.

“I need you to touch me,” you whine, letting your head fall forward. 

“Aww, poor baby,” he mocks before bringing the little leather square between your legs and taps lightly against your swollen clit.

“Oh god, oh god, don’t stop,” you moan.

“Yea? My perfect sweet girl gonna come?”

“Yes,” you cry, head now falling back, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

"Tell me,” he commands, stopping the tapping and just letting the soft leather rest against you, “Tell me you're perfect.”

“No, please,” you murmur.

“Tell me you’re perfect and you can come, sweet girl.” The crop is barely touching you now. 

“I’m perfect,” you whine.

He smacks your clit harder once, twice and with the third snap of the crop you fall over the edge. The chains rattle as pleasure consumes you. Your orgasm rolls through you so hard and all you can do is take it. You moan loudly and your legs start to give out beneath you, the handcuffs and chain above you the only thing holding you up.

Joel

Fuck, she looks absolutely stunning when she finally submits. My beautiful, broken girl. She’s so smart, so driven, always pushing, pushing, pushing. Always taking care of everyone else. I wish she’d just let go, let me take care of her. 

As you slump forward he drops the riding crop, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you up, as he undoes the cuffs. You go completely boneless in his arms, your back pressed to his front, his soft lips peppering kisses along the top of your glistening shoulder. “You did so well, sweetheart. God, you’re so beautiful.”

He supports your weakened body, lowering you to the floor and rolling you onto your back. He pushes the hair that’s stuck to your sweat soaked forehead back. The soft and mischievous smile across your face is exactly what he was hoping for; you’re not ready to be done yet and luckily, neither is he. 

“I’m not done with you,” he whispers, gravel in his throat, before kissing your forehead.

Joel stands and takes a few long strides across the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. He can feel your eyes glued to him as he walks away. After your joke about his pants he picked a pair that's extra snug, just for you. He’s never picked an outfit for a sub before, and this just further proves that even if he’s not ready to fully admit it to himself yet, you are so much more than just a sub. 

“Sweet girl, come here.” He pats his thigh. As you sit up he says, “No, I want you to crawl to me.”

Your eyes widen, cheeks flushing, and his heart nearly flutters right out of his fucking chest as you say, “What?”

He leans forward, forearms resting on his knees. He wants to wrap you in his arms and praise you, but you’re responding so well to him being mean and he knows you need him to keep going. “I said to fucking crawl.”

When you get on your hands and knees, his cock swells to its full potential, pushing painfully behind the zipper of his dress pants. He begins memorizing every inch of your glistening skin and the lust-filled expression on your face as you move so beautifully across the room. 

“Like this, Mister Miller?” You ask innocently, wetting your lips and effectively ruining his life at the same time. 

“Just like that, my sweet girl,” he praises, sitting back up and patting his thigh as he adds, “All the way, then rest your head right here.”

You finally reach him, settling yourself in a kneeling position again and laying your head on his lap, big eyes looking up at him sweetly. His short nails scrape along your scalp as his fingers card through your hair and butterflies fill his stomach as you melt into his touch. “You look so pretty like this. So sweet and submissive. I’m a bad man for the thoughts I have about you when you’re like this.”

You hum quietly, eyelashes hitting your cheeks as your eyes flutter closed. You’re fully at his mercy, trusting him to do what he thinks is best. It’s not a role he takes lightly, not like when he was younger. If this was fifteen years ago you still be handcuffed to that ceiling as he fucked you, but after breaking a lot of hearts he’s reformed his ways. No sex, that’s the rule, as badly as he’d love to sink into your tight, wet heat, you’re trusting him to keep you safe. 

A sense of calm and comfort washes over him as he continues to massage at your scalp, and he smiles to himself as your body gets heavier between his spread thighs. There’s lots of things he likes about you, but the thing he loves the most is how he never knows what’s going to come out of your mouth next. And you prove that when your eyes flutter open and you confidently say, “I want to suck your cock.”

“Fuck, baby. Gonna give me a heart attack sayin’ shit like that outta the blue.”

Your perfect pink lips curl up into a shy smile, his hand moving from your hair so he can brush his knuckles lightly down your cheek. “S’ that what you want? To suck on my cock?”

Your head comes off his lap as you nod up at him. “Yes, Mister Miller. Please?”

“You know that you don’t have to do that. Right? I don’t do this for orgasms, it’s about so much more than that for me.” He asks softly, knuckles trailing your jaw. 

“I know, it’s more than that for me too, but I want to.”

The two of you look at one another for a while, eyes dancing along each other's faces. His voice comes out thick and full of sand, “Take it out.” 

He sits back, resting his hands on the bed behind him as your hands go to his belt, quickly undoing the buckle and then opening his pants. His thick cock springs free as you pull down his soft black boxers, the tip already leaking a bead of milky precome. As you eagerly press the flat of your tongue to the tip, he stifles a moan and watches as your eyes widen. He knows that look, it’s the same look every other man and woman has when they see it for the first time. Joel’s never been with someone of the same sex, but on the rare times he’s shared a sub with another man they have the same expression too.

“You have a piercing,” you say, curiosity thick in your voice, eyes glued to the nickel sized silver hoop that sits at the very bottom of his pelvis, the bottom of the hoop sitting just above the base of his cock.

“Yes,” he confirms, watching the questions about the unusual placement of it run behind your inquisitive eyes. 

Your hand is wrapped around the base of his cock now, your pinky grazing the shiny metal, and his hands fist the sheets behind him to stop himself from grabbing you. “I didn’t know that was a place people pierced.”

He smirks. “Welcome to the wonderful world of kink, sweet girl.” 

He got the piercing shortly after he began his journey to become a dom. In certain positions it can be very beneficial for his partner, and even though he’s vowed over and over again to himself that he’s not going to cross that line with you, he can’t help but imagine your perfect face as you find out exactly what it can do. A little piece of metal that would stimulate your clit as he fucks you.

Your soft pink tongue wets your lips before you begin to suckle on the sensitive rosy pink tip of his cock. His lips part with a quiet sigh. The entire tip of his cock slips into your mouth and his hands clench harder at the fluffy white sheets, desperately trying to let you explore him when all he wants to do is wrap your silky hair around his hands and hear what you sound like when you gag. His efforts double as you hum and then swirl your tongue around the leaking tip, big doe eyes looking up at him. 

“Fuck, baby,” he almost whimpers. “Do that again.” You smile up at him sweetly and his heart starts to thunder behind his ribs. This isn’t a good idea. He should just focus on you, he gets off on that too, just in a much different way. 

Submissives come to him for many different reasons but he’s a dominant for one reason only. From the minute Tiffany passed, Joel has been responsible for everything. From raising Sarah, to bailing out Tommy whenever he got in trouble. Not to mention his construction job, which eventually led to being a business owner. Everyone needed everything from Joel. He had to pivot plans or multitask, nothing ever went as planned; but when he’s Mister Miller it goes exactly how he wants it to. He can say no, he can make them beg or say please, he plans what happens and it goes just how it’s supposed to. For a man who is supposed to be “the boss”, he only feels in control when he’s playing the role of dominant. 

And then came you. This beautiful little ray of light. From that first gasp and wide eyed stare in his office he had a feeling about you. And then everything that came out of your mouth took him by surprise. And right now, how good your mouth feels has him even more surprised. 

You haven’t looked away as you’ve worked more of him down your throat, your hand moves in tandem with your mouth, and your tongue flicks against the ridge along the bottom of the tip each time. 

“Feels s’good, sweet girl.” One of his hands moves on its own, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You can take more though. Come on. Be a good girl and take it all.” 

A small humming giggle vibrates along his length as you work more of him into your mouth and he can’t fight it anymore. Both his hands come to your hair, pushing it back as he wraps the soft strands around his fingers and grips tightly, guiding you down and holding you as low as he can get you before you gag. “Good fuckin’ girl. Jus’ like that.” 

You

Joel’s salty precum is like a drug. You want it. Need it. And know you’re going to crave it forever. He’s been mean tonight, something you haven’t really seen from him, but it was exactly what had to happen to get your head back on straight. You needed a harsh hand to snap you out of the dark looming cloud that’s been threatening to swallow you whole. 

You’ve probably always suffered from depression or high-functioning anxiety, not that your parents would have noticed or said anything. And even if they had, they wouldn’t have gotten their braggable daughter diagnosed. God forbid you weren’t something for them to hold over their friends’ heads.  

Joel’s hands tighten in your hair as he starts to take over. He let you taste him, let you get his cock nice and sloppy with your saliva. He looked down at you softly while you started, but now he’s back to full dominance. Full Mister Miller. 

He pushes you down onto his cock, the tip just kissing against your gag reflex. Your scalp burns under his strong fingers and you can feel yourself submitting. Everything goes quiet: your limbs feel heavy yet ready to move or adjust as he commands, the sides of your vision darken, and the only thing that matters now is him. His wishes. His desires. His commands.

He pulls you off of him, and you gasp in air, a string of your spit landing on your chin, your eyes watering. “You snap if you need me to stop, got it?”

“Yes, sir, Mister Miller,” you say hoarsely. “Fuck my mouth, please.”

“Open,” he says growls.

You do as he says, opening your mouth wide while looking into his dark obsidian eyes. You can see his cheeks and tongue working behind his closed lips before he spits into your mouth. 

“That’s my fucking girl,” he rasps and then roughly guides you back onto his cock. He doesn’t take his time or stop at that point of resistance this time. No, this time he pushes you further than you’ve ever been. The cool metal of the ring on his pelvis touches your nose. The juxtaposition of his hard cock meeting your soft mouth and his cold piercing meeting your warm face is staggering, yet comforting.  

“Breathe through your nose,” he instructs. 

You switch your focus, sucking air in through your nostrils slowly. “That’s it, sweet girl. Relax.”

You let your body sink again into his muscled lined thighs. He starts to move you up his cock. He gets about halfway before he forces you down again. You gag as he hits the back of your throat, shocking yourself when the gag ends in a moan and your pussy starts to weep for him. In fact, almost everywhere is weeping for him. Salvia drips from your lips and onto his lap, tears run down face. 

You’re a mess.

‘His mess’, says that annoying little box in the corner of your mind which now has ‘Mister Miller’ written across it in loopy cursive handwriting, the dots of the i’s little bedazzled hearts. 

Joel uses your hair to pull you up to the tip and you gasp in a few breaths before he starts moving you up and down his now obscenely wet and fully erect cock. Your jaw aches with how wide you need to open your mouth to fit him. Your fingertips just met around the tapered base earlier. You’ve never looked at man’s cock before and thought much, but Joel’s might be enough to ruin your life.  

 “Fuck, this mouth. Feels s’ fuckin’ good. Look at you, takin’ it so well. You like this, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you say, although it’s muffled around his cock. He pulls you off fully, releasing his grips from your hair. You sit back on your heels, his eyes raking over your body, pausing to watch your heaving chest; a mixture of needing to catch your breath and being insanely turned on. You don’t take your eyes off his face.

“Stay.” Joel’s voice is deep enough that you feel it reverberate through you. You lick your lips, swallowing down the taste of him that you’ve become addicted to and place your hands on your lap. 

One of his hands comes up to his mouth and he spits into his own palm before bringing it down to fist his cock. Your eyes flick down to watch as he pumps himself slowly. “You have me doin’ shit that I didn’t plan, sweet girl. I give in to you, let you take the reins. But I’m in charge here.”

He pumps faster, and you fight to stay where you’re supposed to. “You need to remember that, so you don’t get to be the one to make me come today, you don’t get to feel it or taste it. No, you’re going to sit there, like a good little obedient submissive, and watch.”

You whimper, your right hand moving on its own to between your thighs. 

“I didn’t say you could touch yourself. Keep your hands on your lap.” His voice is strained as the movement of his hand becomes less fluid. His free hand comes to his balls, massaging them lightly and you try to commit the sight of him like this to memory. Tall, wide, and commanding, yet falling apart as he looks at your naked and kneeling form in front of him.

“Mister Miller?” You ask, your voice small and cracking, the back of your throat raw from the way he fucked your mouth. “I’m so wet. Please, can I just touch for a little bit?”

His mouth falls open, pleasure etched across his features, his focus never leaving you. “Show me how wet you are. Spread your legs for me.”

You raise off your heels slightly and slide your knees apart, exposing your wet and swollen cunt to him. Then you lean back, hands resting on the floor behind you, tilting your hips up so he can see all of you. 

“Good girl. So fuckin’ pretty,” he moans and then you watch as white ropes of cum spill over his hand. Your name passes his lips in a groan as he comes simply from the sight of your pussy. His hand stills and you lock eyes. You should feel shy like this, but instead you smile at him, a mischievous giggle bubbling up your chest as you bite down on your bottom lip.

His head nods towards the small dresser by the door, the one with the ceramic dish where his ring is on top. “Bring me a small towel from the top drawer and then get on the bed.” 

You saunter to the dresser, trying your hardest not to look too eager, and then back towards him with a small fluffy white hand towel. He takes it from you and cleans himself up as you lay on the bed. He stuffs his softening cock into his boxers and then removes his pants and shirt. If you thought you were turned on before, it’s nothing to how you feel now seeing him almost naked in front of you. 

That whole looking like you’re carved from stone gene is strong with the Millers, you think, watching the muscles behind his toned skin flex beneath his tanned skin as he climbs onto the bed. He grabs you by the ankle and pulls you to the end of the bed, a squeal leaving your lips. You had almost forgotten about the riding crop welts, but the friction against the sheets has them burning slightly and you wince as the heat settles. 

“I’ll fix those sore spots, but first I need to taste you. Is that ok?”

You spread your legs wide for him, “Y-Yes. I need you, Mister Miller.”

“Tell me what you need,” he hums, settling himself between your legs. 

“What you said,” shyness seems to have finally caught up to you, although you aren’t sure why.

He raises a thick dark eyebrow at you. “Ask for it, tell me how you like it.” He nods at you encouragingly as you take a few breaths. “Come on, my sweet girl. You can do it.”

My sweet girl, you melt. That fucking bedazzled box of feelings is fully in the spotlight now. He has years of experience in this role, but you can’t be imagining it. Looking at someone the way he’s looking at you now isn’t something that someone can fake. You can’t be the only one to feel whatever this invisible teether is between the two of you.

“I like fingers curled inside while the tip of your tongue flicks at my clit. I like suction too.” The pride in Joel’s face is almost overwhelming as he listens. God, he’s beautiful. 

He hums slightly, readjusting himself between your spread thighs. “My pretty girl gets what she wants,” he whispers before using the tip of his tongue to gently work at the soft folds of your cunt, working his way from your tight entrance to your clit. 

Your body jerks when he reaches your most sensitive part and you can’t stop the salacious moan that fills the room. “Oh god, Mister Miller.” 

He runs his tongue in slow, teasing circles around your clit. Not with enough pressure to actually make you orgasm, just enough to taunt you, and your entire body breaks out in goosebumps and a thin sheen of sweat at the same time. He slides his right arm under your leg, hooking his elbow under your thigh and reaches his hand up and over towards your pussy. His thick pointer finger and thumb easily slip to each side of your puffy clit. Just as you’re about to float off into another dimension he pinches hard. You scream out in a delicious mix of pain and pleasure, your back arching off the mattress. 

He holds your clit in his fingers, easing up the pinch to tease at it with his tongue again while he works the middle finger of his other hand inside of you. 

“You’re so tight,” he hums between licks. “Gotta relax for me. Let me into this tight little cunt.” 

You whimper at the push of his finger inside of you. One of his fingers is easily one and half of yours, and if he’s having a hard time getting just one of them in, you can’t imagine how it will feel to have two. 

“Eyes on me, sweet girl,” he rasps, releasing your clit from his fingers. His strong hand presses lightly on your mound. “You’re safe here, baby. Open up for me.” 

As always, you follow exactly what your dom says. Craning your neck slightly and opening your eyes to lock your gaze with his. The honey flecks in his dark brown irises warm your skin and as your body relaxes he smiles up at you. You feel Joel’s finger slide the rest of the way in with minimal resistance and it sends a wave of pleasure from your core to your toes.  

“There’s my perfect sweet girl.” He groans as you let out a euphoric whimper. And then he’s back on you. Soft lips pressing to your wet heat, the flat of his large tongue circling your clit. 

Your head falls back to the mattress, “Fuckfuckfuck. Oh god!” 

Your orgasm is embarrassingly close. Joel is hitting almost all the spots you love. No man has gotten you to the edge this quickly. Just as that tingle at the base of your spine starts to spread he curls his finger forward and sucks your clit into your mouth. 

“Mis…hnnng…fuck. I’m - I'm gonna.” You can barely think outside of the pleasure, nevermind form a sentence. 

A second finger slips inside of you, “Give it to me, sweet girl. Show me what I do to you.” 

Your orgasm hits you like an earthquake, making you shake harder than you ever have. The walls of your pussy clench hard on his strong fingers. His mouth is back on your clit, sucking it between his soft, warm lips. The lewd sounds of his sucking mix with your cries of pleasure. Joel is ruthless, never stopping as you absolutely crumble underneath his touch. Another strong wave of your orgasm rushes through you when he curls his fingers forward again, pressing right on your g-spot.

“Oh fuck, fuuuck Mister Miller.” You whine.

He slows the motion of his tongue as the convulsions of your body slow, working you through the aftershocks of your earth shattering orgasm. 

“Good girl,” he whispers before placing a light kiss to your spent clit and slowly slips his fingers out of you. As your gazes lock he licks your arousal off his fingers and then rolls you onto your stomach. You hear him suck in a breath through his teeth when he sees the aftermath of his riding crop punishment earlier. “I’m sorry, sweet girl. Just stay on your stomach for me.”

His lips press to your shoulder blade as the mattress baubles under his weight leaving the bed. You glance over at him, watching his broad, tanned back as he grabs a few items. He spins to face you, coconut oil in one hand and an orange juice and a bottle of water in the other. He places the drinks on the bedside table then scoops a bit of coconut oil onto his fingers. 

You wince as he makes contact with your right cheek, “Ouch, Mister Miller.”

“I know. This will help, and hopefully you learned your lesson about talking badly about what belongs to me.” His voice is sweet yet serious and he moves onto the other cheek, then the back of your thighs before his hand wraps around your right ankle, guiding you to bend your knee so he can look at the sole of your foot. 

He places a light kiss on the light pink spot and you giggle, “Your beard tickles.”

He laughs and does the same thing to the other foot before lining his body up with yours and pulling you in to be his little spoon. “How are you feeling, sweet girl?”

“Mmmm,” you hum, sinking back into his warmth. “Much better. Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” he holds you tighter, biceps flexing around your body like a ring of muscled safety. You're both quiet for a few minutes before he breaks it. “You kinda scared me tonight if I’m being honest.”

“Sorry,” you whisper, hiding your face in the arm he has under your head.

“No, don’t be. I’ve always been good at reading people, it’s probably more of a curse than a gift, but I just - I could feel that you weren’t in a good space when you got here.”

“Ya,” you agree.

“I know I can’t fix it, it’s not my place, but I hope I at least helped.”

You fixed it.

“You did help. I feel much better. Plus,” you turn to face him, both of you using one of your own arms to support your heads and your other arms wrapping around the other person. “Plus, you were right. I am smart. I can do this. I need to not be so hard on myself.”

Joel smiles sweetly, straight white teeth shining at you. 

“If I can be spanked with a riding crop while handcuffed, fuck, I can be aaaanything.”

You and Joel laugh together and it all feels so natural. Maybe too natural. There’s something comfortable and familiar about him. It might be that southern hospitality, but in all the years you’ve been in Texas you’ve never felt this content with someone else. 

“Mister Miller?” you say as the laughter subsides.

“You can call me Joel now,” his eyes widen just for a fraction of a second after it leaves his lips, almost as if he didn’t intend for it to come out before adding, “The scene is over.”

“Ah, so you’re saying this is a safe nickname zone now?” His smile makes your stomach flip.

“Careful, freckles.” He laughs, raising an eyebrow at you. 

You give him a closed lipped smile, “Hey, if you’re gonna use it then so am I, sweet cheeks. Don’t think I didn’t notice the extra tight pants tonight.”

He shrugs a strong shoulder to his ear as you continue. “So, if you don’t sleep with your subs, why the piercing?”

He takes one big breath and licks his lips before he starts, his fingertips trailing up and down your arm. “I got it a long time ago, I wasn’t always as strict with my rules. I’m not proud of it, I broke a lot of hearts when I first started this whole thing. I haven’t taken it out because…well, I don’t really know. I guess because when I do finally reach that point with a partner I want them to experience the benefits.”

Always the giver, you think. 

“Can you have a traditional partner while living this lifestyle?” You immediately begin to back track, realizing that you don’t want to seem like you’re getting attached. “Not you in particular. What you do outside of this room isn’t my business. I just mean like, are there doms that have subs that are married? Again, not you.”

He stares at you as you continue to ramble. “That whole thing came out wrong.”

“Relax, freckles, I knew what you meant. You’re kinda cute when you get all flustered and start to ramble though.”

The lid of the now pink painted box of feelings in your mind lifts a little. It seems to have gained an entire personality, and has the voice of Mrs. Potts from Beauty and The Beast as it says, ‘oh he definitely feels that tether too.’ 

“To answer your question,” his voice pulls you out of your own mind, “There are doms that do this professionally. I did have paying subs at one point myself and had a fairly serious girlfriend.”

Jealousy churns in your stomach. It’s irrational and you really hope it isn’t whoever Tess is. 

“But,” he continues, “It’s a tricky situation and involves a lot of trust and communication. Probably more than a sub-dom dynamic. But, yes, I’ve seen lots of happily married people who live and explore the kink lifestyle.”

You shiver slightly and he pulls you in closer, tucking your head into his chest, inhaling that ash, leather and natural Joel musk. His hand runs up and down your naked back, the calluses on his fingers scratching slightly. 

His body tenses, almost as if he’s nervous before he speaks. “Did you want to come to a Shibari class with me this week? We are hosting a demonstration at the club on Wednesday.”  

You glance up at him, “I’d really like that, Joel.”

He tucks your head back into his chest. His lips press to the crown of your head at the same time that yours meet the soft skin of his sternum. “It’s a date.”

Part Two

[jobean12-blog]

After the Fall

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 6,399

Summary: Bucky is your first love...your first everything so when things fall apart in college over a stupid misunderstanding you’re completely heartbroken but manage to move on...that is until your past comes back in a way you least expect it. 

Author’s Note: When Bucky and reader are dating they are at least 18 and when they reconnect their age is up to you- but they are obviously adults. The type of jobs mentioned are also up to interpretation- it’s a business thing for sure but as far as details it’s up to you! I had this whole moodboard planned to show the progression from young Bucky to now but I suck at them so instead I stuck some pictures in the middle of the fic to give you an idea :) And the first pic is what he looks like now hehe 🥵Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Dividers by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: some angsty parts over past events, both Bucky and reader have lots of feels, there’s soft fluff and sweetness, i-m-pl-ie-d s-e-x-y times, f-in-g-er-in-g, some light d-i-rt-y ta-lk, Bucky is delicious of course lol 

You pace your apartment and try not to fiddle with your outfit any more than you already have. It’s only seven thirty am and you’ve been up since six. You still have an hour and a half before you have to meet with Steve for your first official day of work.

Maybe you should leave now…New York City public transportation can never be trusted. The office building is only a fifteen-minute train ride but just to be sure…

Twenty-five minutes later you find yourself sitting in the lobby of the large building, your face to your phone and your foot bouncing rapidly. Several people walk by and you barely notice them, keeping an eye on the time and carefully sipping your drink.

But then you hear heavy footsteps and a hushed voice, one that sounds almost familiar and just as you look up you catch the retreating back of a tall man, broad shouldered and with long dark hair neatly tied into a bun at the base of his neck.

You stare until he disappears inside the elevator, your whole-body tingling with awareness. Could it be your past has finally caught up with you after all this time? Or is it just the constant lingering feeling of what you never truly got over?

Just a coincidence. It has to be.

After several blinks you check your phone again and decide it’s time to head up to Steve’s office.

The receptionist outside his office greets you warmly before picking up the phone and letting Steve know you’re here.

You knock, even though you don’t have to, and wait until you hear Steve call you inside. When you open the door you notice he’s quietly speaking to someone and due to your sudden onset of nerves it doesn’t register that it’s the same man from earlier until he turns around and his ocean blue eyes meet yours.

Eyes you know. Eyes you had fell in love with a long time ago.

Your stomach plummets to your toes and you must look like a deer caught in headlights because Steve stands suddenly and rounds his desk.

“Are you ok?” Steve asks but your eyes are still glued to Bucky.

Steve calls your name and you finally look at him and swallow hard with a nod but your eyes flicker back to Bucky when he starts to move toward the door.

Bucky says something to Steve that you don’t register and already has one foot out the door before Steve stops him.

“Hey Buck, wait a second. I want to introduce you to our new executive assistant.”

Bucky stops short, still facing the hallway and slowly turns, plastering a fake smile on his face.

Steve gives him your name and you hold out a shaky hand.

The moment his skin touches yours you feel him over every inch of your body and a flood of memories assaults you, leaving you almost speechless.

“Bucky is my partner,” Steve says proudly.

You manage a small hello and quickly pull your hand back. Bucky looks away, nodding to Steve before leaving the office.

Steve’s eyebrows are drawn in with concern as he moves his gaze back to you.

“That was weird,” he mutters, studying you and you think he’s waiting for an explanation.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted anything,” you say softly.

“Not at all,” Steve answers with a warm smile. “Now come and sit. Let’s get you set up for your first day.”

You visibly relax and take a deep breath, reminding yourself that you’ve worked hard to get this position and you won’t let anything, not even your first boyfriend, your first love…your first everything, get in your way.

Thankfully the rest of your first day goes smoothly with no sign of Bucky and you have enough work to keep your brain busy and focused.

It’s when you get home, toe your heels off and fall onto the couch that the day catches up with you, breaking like a wave against the rocks and you sink deeper into the cushions with a groan.

Your cell rings, pulling your from your thoughts.

“Hey Nat,” you say tiredly as you greet your best friend.

“HOW WAS THE FIRST DAY?” she says, far too loudly.

You wince but a small smile pulls at your lips.

“It was great. Steve is so sweet and I was busy all day but kicked ass.”

“I knew it,” she says. “But I get the sense there’s more…”

She waits, always patient and far too perceptive.

“What do you mean more?” you ask, trying to sound easy and breezy.

“Babe,” she admonishes. “I can hear it in your voice.”

When you don’t elaborate she says, “I’m here and ready to listen when you want to talk.”

Her kind words are all you need to hear before you sigh heavily and blurt out, “Bucky works at the firm. He’s Steve’s partner.”

Silence on the other end of the line.

“Nat?”

“Wow,” is all she says.

“I know.”

“Are you ok?” she asks, her voice tentative.

“I will be,” you answer, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Dare I ask…how did he look? It’s been so long!”

The image of him flashes in your mind but it’s blurry and mixed with the younger version of him you know from your past.

“Honestly, I don’t even know. I barely registered more than his eyes. I was in shock.”

“Understandable,” she says. “Want me to come over?”

“No but thank you. I’m just going to take a bath and go to bed. I have the rest of the week to get through.”

“Ok babe. Call me if you need me.”

“I will, thank you again.”

Once you have a warm bath running, bubbles dancing along the surface and the calming scent of lavender filling the space, you sink under the water, hoping to wash away the day and maybe even some of the past.

The phone at your desk rings and you answer with your well-practiced greeting, smiling when you hear Steve’s voice. He lets you know he’ll be out of the building most of the day, handling some meetings downtown and that Bucky will be here should you need anything.

You hang up and square your shoulders, refocusing on your computer screen and doing your best to push Bucky to the back of your mind.

It works until an hour before lunch when you get a notification for a meeting. The e-mail doesn’t give you many details, just a time and place to be. Silently praying it has nothing to do with Bucky you gather your lap top and bag and make your way to the top floor.

The office door is closed but you can hear voices and when you knock and hear Bucky say, “come in,” you instantly tense up.

He repeats the words and you finally find the strength to push open the door.  

Three sets of eyes turn your way, only one of them familiar. The other two men openly admire you and you have to force yourself not to sneer at them.

Bucky must notice because he says, “gentleman if you don’t mind we have business to conduct.” His words are firm but harsh and the two other men clear their throats and look away to absentmindedly fix their ties.

You step inside, shutting the door behind you and sitting at the small conference table.

A shadow appears over you and you look up to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“I need you to take minutes for the meeting and…”

The rest of his words fade away as you finally take a moment to get a good look at him. His voice is deeper now, his suit filled out with muscles he didn’t have when you were younger and his hair…his hair is long enough to brush his shoulders.

His presence is overwhelming, sending shockwaves through every nerve in your body and making them buzz with memories.

“You still with me?” Bucky asks, a cocky smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

You nod and look down at your computer.

The meeting lasts about an hour and you do your job perfectly regardless of the fact that your heart is in your throat and your stomach is in knots.

“Thanks gentleman,” Bucky says as the two men get up to leave.

They both glance your way again with matching smiles and one of them opens his mouth to speak but Bucky quickly interjects.

“Meetings over.”

They leave without another word and you and Bucky are alone in his office.

You can feel his eyes on you and when you look up at him his jaw is clenching and his eyes are hard.

“Small world, huh?.”

He grunts, which you take as an agreement.

“I didn’t know you were Steve’s partner,” you start, inwardly berating yourself for the quiver in your voice. “This was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.”

“I can tell you know what you’re doing,” he says, leaning over the table. “This is all strictly professional.”  

“Right,” you agree.

He stares for a moment longer then dips his chin before saying, “I’m going to lunch. You can see yourself out.”

You’re left staring blankly at the empty space he just occupied, the silence he left behind deafening and filled with so many unspoken words.

“Better day today?” Nat asks, this time from the couch beside you.

“I sat in on a meeting Bucky was conducting.”

“Oo,” she says, pouring you more wine.

“He looks so good Nat. Even better than before and I didn’t think that was possible…his hair is long now.”

She lifts her eyebrow and smirks. “Better huh? Well, he must be losing his mind over you.”

You smile at her in thanks but shrug. “He couldn’t have left his office quicker if I had set him on fire,” you joke.

“Are you ever going to talk about what happened?” she asks, eyeing you from over the rim of her glass.

“What’s there to talk about? We were young. When we talked about going to different schools he made it sound so easy. We’d visit every weekend. Be together every break and talk every day on the phone. But then…things just happened.”

“What things?” she asks gently.

“I kept hearing from other friends that he was studying,” and you make air quotes with the word, “with some girl named Sharon from this classes. I never asked about it because I trusted him but then we both got busier and we had less time…he seemed distant, or maybe it was just me. Things started to fall apart. Then I met Matt…”

She smiles wryly at the mention of your ex.

“More wine please,” you say with huff.

The next two days go by without a hitch. Steve seems very pleased with your work so far and you start to settle into your role well.

However, things fall apart again when Friday rolls around and you’re standing in the hallway speaking to one of the gentleman, Brad, from the meeting earlier in the week. He found you on your way to the staff room and practically cornered you to introduce himself.

“So, you should come out with us tonight. It’s a good way to end the week,” Brad says.

He leans closer to you, into your personal space, and you take a step back just as Bucky rounds the corner.

Your back meets his chest and you lunge forward but you never get far because Bucky’s hands wrap around your waist and he hauls you back to him.

“Woah,” you say, freezing at the feel of his hands on you.

Brad laughs but it quickly fades when he sees the murderous look on Bucky’s face.

“What’s going on here?” Bucky asks. “Don’t you two have work to get done.”

Your mouth drops open with a sassy retort but Brad beats you to it.

“We just met in the hallway and I was inviting her to drinks tonight,” Brad says lightly.

Bucky turns his eyes to you. “I was just going to grab my lunch. It’s my break.”

Your tone is defensive and you lift your chin defiantly.

“That might not be the best idea,” Bucky starts, turning back to Brad with a smirk. “She’s a lightweight….one too many drinks and she might be…”

“Don’t finish that sentence Barnes,” you spit out.

Both Bucky and Brad look taken aback then Brad breaks the awkward stare down between you and Bucky with a question.

“Do you two know each other?”

Bucky keeps his eyes on you when he answers with, “will you excuse us Brad. We need a minute alone.”

Brad looks between the two of you. “Ok, no problem.” But before he walks away he says to you, “hope to see you tonight.”

Bucky glares at Brad’s back then gently takes your arm and hauls you down to the nearest office. He opens the door and ushers you inside.

“What is your problem?” you ask before he even shuts the door.

“Why were you talking to Brad?” he asks.

You groan and fist your hands at your sides.

“It’s just like he said. We met in the hallway and he asked me to come out for drinks tonight!”

Bucky grunts.

“What is it with all the grunting? And I can’t believe you were about to make some shitty comment about my drinking!”

His shoulders sag and his eyes soften slightly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that but….”

He growls and turns away from you.

“But you broke my heart doll!”

When he finally turns back your way there are tears shining in your eyes. At his words, at the use of the endearment he saved only for you and at the way he looks once again, like the boy you fell in love with all those years ago.

“Yeah, well…you broke mine too,” you whisper as you look down at your feet.

You stand there in silence for what feels like forever before quietly saying. “We have to work together now. We can’t let our history be a problem. I want this job. I’ve worked hard for it.”

He scoffs and meets your gaze.

“Friends?” you ask, holding out your hand.

He stares at your outstretched hand but doesn’t’ take it as he steps incrementally closer.

“History?” Is that what you’re calling it?”

His voice is a growl, low and powerful.

“Bucky,” you try again.

“No doll. I can’t do friends with you. I know what you taste like when you come screaming my name.”

The memories wash over you, making your skin heat and your head dizzy. You’re reeling between feeling aroused and ashamed and angry.

“I’m not friends with people who give up on everything and bail for something new and shiny.”

His words hurt, hitting right where he wants them but you gather your strength and remind yourself that you’re here because you should be and what happened between you and Bucky has nothing to do with it.

“Seriously? It was so long ago, Bucky. Something tells me you haven’t been locked away and pining for me all this time.”

Your eyes slowly devour every inch of him. “No, I think you’ve been just fine without me.”

“See something you like doll face?” he murmurs.

He stands up straight and tall, crossing his arms over his chest and causing the fabric of his suit jacket to pull tightly at his bulging biceps and his long legs are spread wide as he smiles sardonically.

You can’t stop your gasp before it passes your lips. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” he mocks.

You don’t want to answer his question because it’s true. You do like it. More than you want to admit.

His long hair curls at his shoulders, neatly styled and framing a sharp jawline that’s lined with dark scruff, some spots even peppered with gray. His full lips are soft and kissable and his hands…you know what those hands are capable of.  Long fingers that are now adorned with rings, the shining gold glinting under the bright lights of the office and drawing your attention, spread wide over his arms.

It’s suffocating but you can’t stop your blatant perusal.

Your eyes drop to his long legs and what’s between them, his suit pants straining against what’s behind his zipper, the thick cock that stretched you for the first time.  

His smile is filled with arrogance as it widens into a grin and his gaze sears you, rooting you in place as he leisurely looks his fill.

“I certainly like what I see,” he says, licking his lips. “But none of that matters any more, right? Old news.”

“I won’t let you ruin this opportunity for me,” you tell him, willing your voice to stay even. “And I know Steve suspected something was up when I walked in the first day so don’t…”

“I already told Steve we have a past but don’t worry I didn’t tell him all the shitty details,” Bucky retorts. “Your secret is safe with me.”

He stands there with an expectant look on his face.

“Are you waiting for a thank you!” you almost shout. “I can’t believe it.”

You see his mouth opening to interrupt you, but you hold up a staying hand.

“Let’s just agree to be professional so we can do our jobs.”

You take a step around him but he blocks your way, his body large and imposing in the small space and when he leans down, his breath tickling your ear, and whispers, “I’ll see you on Monday then,” an involuntary shiver shoots down your spine.

He meets your eyes, his own sparkling with the same desire you know is in yours then reaches around you to open the door.

With a rush you shoot down the hallway and back to your office, silently praying no one caught you coming out of the room.

Once you’re safely inside with the door shut, you lean against it and finally let out a shuddering breath, swiping at your eyes.  

���I’m exhausted,” you explain to Nat after telling her about the events of the day.  “Even if I had wanted to go I would be asleep on the bar in minutes.”

“Well, just don’t let him dictate your social life. You have every right to go out and relax with coworkers. Especially cute ones. And you know I’ll come with you if you want.”

Nat’s words bring a smile to your face. “Thank you. Let’s just hope I can make it through next week.”

Later that night, after trying and failing to find something to watch that will keep your attention you crawl into bed and dream.

Your laid back on his bed as his stubble scratches along the sensitive skin of your neck and his whispered words reach your ears.

“You want my cock doll?”

You moan out his name, arching beneath him.

“Tell me.”

“Yes, yes I want your cock Bucky,” you purr.

His chuckle vibrates along your stomach as he moves lower. “Just need a taste first.”

“Please,” you beg just before his tongue flicks over your clit.

You push your hips into his face and he growls in approval.

“More,” you demand, and he obliges as one thick finger teases your opening.

You wake up just before he fills you, panting and disoriented. Looking around your dark room you can barely remember where you are. Or when. The past mixing with the present and creating something dangerous.

Your arousal is evident in the stickiness of your panties and you squeeze your thighs together in search of some relief. You sit up and take a sip of water from the glass on your nightstand, wishing it would quench more than your thirst. You consider finishing yourself off, it won’t take much, and he’ll never know, but you will.

Monday morning arrives faster than you’d like and you find yourself dragging your heels, literally, into the office.

You see Bucky in a meeting later that day and you notice him glancing your way several times, words and thoughts and emotions crossing over his face but you can’t decipher them.

The problem is you feel the same way. Confused and unsure…well maybe not unsure about everything. You definitely want him but that’s a line you know you shouldn’t cross, especially after the harsh words you exchanged last week.

The meeting ends and so does the day. And the next and the next until it’s Friday. It’s past five pm and you’re still in your office working on something for Steve. He pops his head in and tells you to leave but you wave him off and explain you’d rather get it done now and relax this weekend. He bids you goodbye once you promise not to stay too late.

You’re in the middle of a thought when the door opens again and without looking up you say, “don’t worry Steve, I should only be another hour then I promise I’ll go home.”

“Another hour and it will be dinner time.”

You look up at the sound of Bucky’s voice, your eyes wide and your lips lightly spread with surprise.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “Thought you were Steve.”

He smiles and for the first time you can tell it reaches his eyes.

“I’m going to be done at about the same time…dinner?”

You stare at him, not sure if you heard him right.

“Unless you had other plans toni…”

“No,” you interrupt. “I don’t and uh dinner sounds good. I’m starving actually.”

“Great, then I’ll see you in an hour. There’s this little noodle place we can walk to from here.”

You smile gratefully, waiting until the door shuts behind him to let out a whoosh of air.

“I don’t see a table,” you say as you look around Bucky into the restaurant.

He grabs your hand and you ignore the tingles that shoot up your arm as he drags you through the place. In the back corner, there’s a lone table, small but empty.

He holds his arm out, gesturing for you to sit. “I usually come hide in the back here if I have work to do but need food,” he explains.

You sit and he follows, plopping down across from you. The table’s so small that his knees bump yours underneath.

“Ow,” you hiss.

“Shit, sorry doll,” he mumbles as he moves his chair, bringing him closer to your side.

“I forgot how big your are.”

Your eyes go wide as you hear your own words come out of your mouth.

“Man doll face, you sure know how to hurt a guy’s feelings.”

His tone is light and teasing but you look down, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you fidget with your hands and try not to remember exactly how big he really is.

Thankfully the waitress stops by to ask for your drink order. Once you tell her what you want you sit quietly and peek over at Bucky.

He looks nervous and for some reason it makes you feel better.

You both start to speak at the same time then laugh over your jumbled words.

“Go ahead doll,” he says.

“I was going to remind you of how much we used to talk. Remember all those nights we stayed up late either on the phone or hanging out in our favorite spot on the roof.”

His eyes sparkle at the thought. “Of course I remember. There never seemed to be enough time.”

The waitress reappears with your drinks and sets them down.

“Still like that whiskey huh?” Bucky teases. “I remember the first time you tried whiskey.”

“Oh gosh, I try not to,” you groan.

He suddenly looks sad. “I’m sorry about that comment last week…about the drinking. And about most of what I said. It was harsh. It’s just. This is hard,” and he gestures between the two of you.

“I get it. Believe me.”

“What happened to us?” you say after taking a sip of your drink.

“So much,” he responds. “But I feel…”

His words are interrupted when the waitress appears with your food. You take a few bites, focusing on chewing and swallowing as you muster up the courage to say the next words.

“I never gave up on us,” you start, your voice pained. “I never bailed…I heard so many things…people were talking.”

“What did you hear?” he asks, his fork held tightly between his fingers. “What are you talking about?”

“People were telling me you were with Sharon all the time…studying…and I wasn’t sure what else. You pulled back, we talked less…I don’t know it just didn’t feel the same. I was losing you.”

“Losing me?!” he says, far too loudly for the space. He squeezes his eyes shut then continues, his voiced hushed but still angry. “I was just trying to keep my grades up. I was struggling. I missed you so much and I couldn’t handle it. My grades slipped and the idea of you thinking I was a failure was too much on top of everything else. Sharon was just helping me. Nothing ever happened between us.”

You stare at him, your eyes glassy as they fill with unshed tears. “I don’t understand. When I asked you to come visit so we could talk…you…you were so hesitant, I thought it was because you were going to break up with me and then…you never showed.”

“I did. I did show,” he says quietly. “But you were with Matt.”

“What?” you gasp. “When? How come you didn’t tell me?”

“I was too ashamed. I figured you had moved on to someone better, someone who was able to keep their shit together and I didn’t want to mess that up for you.”

“Bucky,” you whisper. “I wasn’t with Matt. We were just friends.”

“But it didn’t stay that way,” he says, his tone accusatory.

“No. But that wasn’t until I knew it was over for us. I was completely heartbroken and it never worked out with Matt. He couldn’t get over the fact that I was still in love with you.”

That knocks the wind out of him and the two of you sit there, staring and uncertain.

He abruptly stands, knocking into the table. “Come on, let’s dance.”

“What?” you screech as he grabs your hand. “There isn’t even any music. This is a restaurant!?”

You don’t fight him as he tugs you away from the table and to the other side of the small room and when you spot the jukebox you can’t help the smile forming on your lips.

“I should have known you’d take me to a place with one of these,” you laugh.

He looks over his shoulder and winks before he starts scrolling through the songs. He stops on one but you can’t see the name then presses a few more buttons before he takes your hand again and pulls you to him.

The music starts and you almost stumble into him, recognizing the melody immediately.

“Your favorite,” he says quietly, drinking you in with his eyes.

You sway together and he spins you slowly, his hand teasing along your lower back. He takes your hand and lays your palm against his chest as you move back and forth. It’s not really dancing, more like you’re pressed together, shifting on your feet.

When you move your fingers across his chest you feel his sharp intake of breath. Your eyes trace the movements as your hand spans his broad chest then grazes over the gold chain peeking out from the open buttons of his shirt.  

“I like all this,” you say quietly, pressing the chain into his skin before you glance at the rings on his fingers.

“Glad to hear it doll,” he rumbles, looking far too pleased.

Your hand slides to his bicep and he flexes, smirking when you look up at him through your lashes.

“When do you have time to work out?” you whisper into the small space between you as your gaze wanders over his arms.

“Early in the morning,” he answers. “And you should see the rest of me.”

Need rumbles through his voice and you look up to meet his eyes.

“Bucky…”

He kisses you before you can finish the thought, stealing your breath. You freeze for a single heartbeat and then kiss him back with everything you have.

“Fuck doll.”

He wraps his arms around you tighter, pulling you against him and you lean into him willingly, a moan vibrating through you. His hand slips around to cup your throat, his thumb brushing over your jaw as he tilts your head back, deepening the kiss.

The music stops and you hear a few catcalls from some random guys at another table. It breaks the spell and you take a step back.

You start to panic and he can tell, his hands tightening at your waist.

“Doll…”

“No, we can’t.”

“Yes we fucking can,” he answers back. “We’re adults and we can do whatever the fuck we want. And make no mistake,” he continues, grasping your chin between his thick fingers to force your eyes to his, “I want you.”

You audibly swallow and sway into him. He holds you close, his eyes wandering over your face expectantly.

“I just…I panicked. I need a minute,” you admit.

He visibly relaxes and slides his knuckles along your curves to find your hand before taking it in his and pulling you toward the door.

“Where are we going?” you ask once you’re outside.

“I’m walking you home,” he says quietly, not letting go of your hand. “Just like when we were kids.”

You smile and press closer to him, loving the feel of his thumb brushing over your knuckles. The walk is mostly silent as your mind races to find the right words. You want this. Want him. But is it too much too quickly? It’s been so long but even so your body remembers him, has his touch memorized and seared into your skin and your heart…your heart has been full of him since the day you met.

When you reach your apartment building you stop. “This is me.”

He waits patiently for you to speak but when you don’t he asks, “so now what?”

“I want this. You. Us. I never stopped wanting it,” you confess. “But we’ve both hurt each other and I think we need to take it slow.”

“I’ll do whatever you want if it means you’re willing to give this a chance,” he answers. “But I can’t promise I’ll behave…I’ve been dreaming about being inside you for far too long and my hand just ain’t cutting it doll.”

You bite your lip, desire written all over your face even as you try to shoot him an admonishing glare.  

“But we’ll start with a date,” he says softly. “And I know just where I’m gonna take you.”

With a small nod you lean forward and kiss the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering on the taste of his skin before you pull away and move from his embrace.

“Tomorrow?” he asks. “Or too soon?”

“Tomorrow,” you repeat.

“HE KISSED YOU?” Nat screeches and you have to move the phone away.

You’re nodding before you realize she can’t see you.

“Yes, right there in the middle of the noodle place.”

“Well?”

“Well what?” you ask.

“How was it?”

You sigh almost dreamily. “Better than I remember which I didn’t think was possible.”

“And you’re sure you’re ok with this?”

“I’m feeling so much but the thing I’m feeling most is the fact that I want him. I’m hoping it’s more than a physical thing. It feels more than that because to be completely honest I never stopped loving him.”

“I’m glad you’re giving this a chance,” Nat says. “Just go at a pace that makes you comfortable.”

“So I should have sex with him tomorrow…? Because I’m perfectly comfortable.”

You can hear Nat’s snicker. “Girl, if you do I better get every dirty detail.”

You giggle and cover your mouth, feeling lighter than you have in weeks.

“Just keep them closed ok?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and hold tightly to his hand, stepping on the backs of his feet several times as he leads you to your date spot.

“Sorry Buck,” you laugh.

“It’s ok doll, just another few steps.”

You hear something metal creak open and then a blast of cool air hits your face.  He throws his arm around your shoulder and tucks you into his side.

“Ok, open your eyes.”

You’re met with a scene that takes your breath away. It’s both familiar and new, the old roof top a space you frequented when you were younger but now it’s been brought to life in a whole new way.

Soft string lights hang from a make shift canopy where underneath you see a small chaise lounge that’s covered in a plush blanket and cocooned by fluffy pillows.

“Oh Bucky,” you gush. “You did all this?”

He smiles and kisses your forehead. “I remember how much you loved it up here.”

“It’s beautiful. All of it.”

“I have one last thing to show you. C’mere.”

He pulls you along with him and pauses near the old fire escape.

“Close your eyes,” he orders again, slipping his hands over them from behind.

You laugh and reach up to hold his wrists, fiddling with the gold bracelet that dangles loosely there. “What are you doing?”

“This,” he whispers along the shell of your ear.

He moves his hands from your eyes and you gasp and cover your mouth, but then reach out, tracing one finger over the etched lines in the metal.

Your initials are carved neatly into the rusted metal, still standing out against the weathered material after all this time.

You spin in his arms, your eyes falling to his lips just as you lick your own, his eyes tracking the movement.

“Thank you Bucky.”

And then you kiss him. He grabs your face gently between his large hands, nipping at your lower lip and you open for him without hesitation. You press into him and he slides his hands down your back, brushing his thumbs over the sides of your breasts.

You whimper his name, moving your lips to his neck to trace down the muscular column.

“Fuck,” he groans as he walks you back toward the chaise lounge. With a spin he sits down and pulls you into his lap, your thighs on either side of his.

You pull back, your eyes bright and your lips swollen.

“You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  

Your whispered thanks gets lost in the moment as he dips his head and drags his nose along your skin, inhaling softly.

“Whatever you want doll. Anything, nothing. Say the word and it’s yours.”

His words are rough even as his hands move delicately to caress your body.

You lean forward, softly kissing along his jawline toward his ear, your breath fanning his skin when he squeezes your ass.

“Touch me.”

“Touch you where doll? You want me to fill you with my fingers?” You want my mouth. I’ll lick up every last drop of whatever you wanna give me.”

You tremble in his arms, tugging at the button down that hangs loosely over his shoulders, your fingers splaying over his exposed skin as he shrugs it off. You rake your nails over his tight white tank, desperate for more of him but instead he tucks his fingers under your shirt and pulls it up and off.

His large hand covers your breast, his thumb brushing your nipple through your bra and you arch your back, pushing your chest into his face.

Your hips rock, rubbing up and down over the hard ridge of his cock.

“I’m gonna come in my pants if you don’t stop that baby doll.”

You don’t stop. Can’t. And when his fingers pop open the button of your pants you grind down even harder, needing more.

His fingers move lower and he hisses at the softness of your skin before he finds you soaked and ready for him.

“Yes,” you breathe out. “More.”

“Right here?” he teases, lightly brushing his finger over your clit.

He spreads your juices all over you, coating his fingers and your skin until you’re completely wild for him, writhing as you try to fuck his hand.

Two thick fingers sink inside you, his rings hitting your skin as he meets every one of your thrusts, going faster and harder when you mewl for more with every stroke.

“Bucky. I’m gonna come,” you warn.

“Come for me doll. Come all over my fingers. Squeeze me tight.”

His words send you careening over the edge and you cry out his name but he doesn’t stop the slow pumping of his fingers, drawing out every last bit of your pleasure.

You collapse against him, your head laying along his shoulder. His skin is warm and soft beneath your cheek and you can’t help but press your lips there. You spasm on his fingers once more before he slowly pulls them free and brings them between you, staring at the glistening proof of what he does to you.

With a predatory gleam in his eyes he holds you gaze and pushes his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean one by one.

“Fuck doll, you’re so sweet. I almost forgot how good you taste.”

You turn your face to his as your fingers tip toe down his chest, catching on the gold chain that rests against his warm skin, before moving lower.

“What about you?”

He rests his hands over yours, stopping you from undoing the button of his jeans.

“Not yet baby doll. I want to at least give you a real date first.”

“Are you being all gentlemanly now?” you pout. “We’ve had sex up here before.”

“I’ll fuck this pussy anywhere and anytime you’ll let me, but you want to go slow and this is more than just fucking. It always has been. When I get back inside you, it’ll be because we’ve worked through all this shit for good, all the shit that never should have gotten in our way. And there won’t be any going back. You’ll be mine again.”

Even though you always have been.

@sstan-hoe @lookiamtrying @hallecarey1 @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @late-to-the-party-81 @randomfandompenguin @hiddles-rose @sebstanwhore @book-dragon-13 @littleseasiren @justkinsey​ @beccablogsthings​ @laineyreads​

[dreamlandcreations]

Imagine that Feyd kills your soulmate so he can have you for himself...

• Feyd-Rautha masterlist • Main Masterlist • Moodboards masterlist •

Imagine that Feyd kills your soulmate so he can have you for himself...

He killed his own soulmate, you don't know why did you even consider that he would spare yours. With Jessica having a boy, it changed nothing in the path of fate, Paul was still the na-Baron's soulmate.

Feyd knew from a young age that something was taken from him, something far more precious than his loving parents or his freedom and innocence. Feyd lost the other half of his soul when Lady Jessica decided to go against the Plan.

He thought he would never experience a bond like that, as it was meant to be. Until he found you.

Despite how much soulmates are revered, no one speaks of the possibility of finding another person besides the original that was destined for you. Yet Feyd knows it's possible.

You were a near perfect match when you first met him, he felt a connection to you that he couldn't explain and time only brought you closer, and with no sight of your soulmate in the picture he thought he could make you his.

But fate tried to take from him again, only this time he didn't let it happen.

As much as he wanted to make the man suffer for trying to claim you, Feyd made his death quick for your sake. You did not know your soulmate and there was no real connection, so his death hurt you but it will not break you. It will take time but you will learn to let it go and Feyd-Rautha will be there as you get through this loss, he will be your only solace and the only one you will need from now on. He will be your soulmate and your bond will be stronger than any before or after because unlike those who just accepted their destiny, you chose each other.

• Taglist •

[adrienneleclerc]

Do you think you can do a Daniel Ricardo imagine

Where YN is a country singer and I don't know maybe all of the drivers gets invited to a country CMT in Texas and do you think you can make yn inspired by Lainey Wilson if you haven't listened to any of her music I highly recommend you to listen to some yeah that's it and I love the Carlos and MMA imagine it was beautiful and adorable and I loved it so yeah I hope you can do something with this one XOXO🇲🇽🫶🥰

Hi! Thank you so much for liking the Carlos x MMA imagine, you are actually my number 1 requester 🫶🏽 When you say "y/n inspired by Lainey Wilson", I studied her personality. I have watched her performances, listened to some of her music, and watched an interview. But Becky G will always be in my moodboards/headers because she is my idol. You could obviously picture Lainey Wilson if you want. Sorry it took SOOOO long

Country Love

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Country Singer! Reader

Summary: With the Austin Grand Prix being held on the same weekend as the CMT Music Awards, the drivers were invited to the award show, especially because of Daniel's affinity for country music.

Warning: Spelling and grammatical errors, inaccuracies about the CMT Music Awards and country music in general.

A/N: I saw the video of Lainey Wilson singing "The Best of Both Worlds" on YouTube and i LOVED it!! Like girly impersonated Hannah Montana when she was younger so the fact she sung a Hannah song in front of Miley Cyrus herself is just iconic. Also, Becky G being in the moodboard literally means nothing, its still YOU.

Weeks before the Austin Grand Prix, the F1 drivers received calls about attending the CMT Music Awards. The drivers were all excited to have gotten invited to the award show, especially Daniel Ricciardo in particular since he loves country music so much. What’s even better is that VCARB team principal, Laurent Mekies, invited country singer, Y/N L/N, who just so happens to be Daniel’s favorite country singer, to their garage, but thats a surprise.

Daniel walked into the paddock talking to Yuki and Max about how insane and unreasonable the FIA are being when Daniel spotted Y/N walking side by side with her manager. He has completely checked out of the conversation until Yuki punched his arm.

"Ow, Yuki, what the fuck was that for?" Daniel asked, rubbing his arm.

"You weren't paying attention to us! What's up with that?" Yuki asked.

"Sorry, mate, bui just saw Y/N, as in THE Y/N." Daniel said, turning his head to try and spot her again but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Was she wearing a cowgirl hat or something?" Max asked, chuckling. Daniel looked back at him.

"Of course not, don't be ridiculous. She was wearing a baseball cap though. Do you think she's a guest of Ferrari or Mercedes? You know what, maybe she's McLaren's guest, Lando likes country music too." Daniel said. "Damn, they're so lucky they will get to meet her."

"Didn't know you were such a fanboy, Danny." Yuki said, causing both him and Max to laugh.

"She is a talented artist, you know. Can't believe she's here and i won't be able to talk to her until the award show. And thats IF i see her." Daniel said.

"Stop pouting, mate. We have two hours until the race, maybe you'll see her. I gotta head back to RedBull." Max said, patting both men on the back before walking away.

"We should head to our hospitality too." Yuki said and Daniel nodded, following him into VCARB where Y/N had her back turned, talking to Laurent and Daniel's eyes practically bulge out of his head. "Wow, its like watching a cartoon." Yuki comments, looking between Daniel and Y/N.

Laurent and Y/N stop talking and she turns around to face Daniel. Daniel straightens up to make a good impression, or at least try to. Laurent leads Y/N to his two drivers. Daniel was the first one to speak up.

"I'm Daniel Ricciardo, it is so nice to meet you." Daniel said, reaching for Y/N's hand to shake it.

"It's nice to meet you too, Daniel. I'm.." Y/N started.

"You're Y/N L/N, you won the Grammy for best country album, well deserved, by the way, Bell Bottom Country and Whirlwind has been on replay since i landed in Texas." Daniel said and that shocked Y/N.

"Nice job scaring the poor girl." Yuki commented.

"Wow, thank you so much, Daniel. I never would have thought that an F1 driver would be such a big fan of my music." Y/N said.

"I'm Yuki Tsunoda, by the way, if it matters." Yuki spoke up, looking in between Y/N and Daniel.

"Its nice to meet you Yuki. Will you be going to the CMT Awards too?" Y/N askd.

"I won't, actually. But Daniel is very excited for the award show." Yuki said, patting Daniel on the back.

"Can't wait to see you there. I'll let you two get back to whatever it is drivers do." Y/N said, leaving them. Daniel watched her leave and Yuki had to wave his hand in front of his face.

"Laurent, i think he's broken!" Yuki yelled and that snapped Daniel out of his trance.

"I am not broken. Lets go over the plans." Daniel said.

The Grand Prix finished and Daniel wasted no timw to go to his hotel room and change into something more presentable for the CMT Awards. Leaving his room, he spotted Lando already in the lobby with Max.

"Am i early or late?" Daniel asked.

"Early, but so are we. Heard that your celebrity crush was in the paddock." Lando said.

"Yes! She is so beautiful in person." Daniel commented.

"He was staring at her while we were talking. If it was a cartoon, he would be drooling with big hearts for eyes." Max said.

"Haha, lets go, I want to see if i can talk to Y/N some more on the red carpet." Daniel said.

When they arrived, the paparazzi was asking for photos and it was all good until Daniel found out he was taking photos next to Y/N so like the gentleman he was, he waited until Y/N noticed him.

"Oh my god, Daniel, you're here!" Y/N exclaimed before hugging Daniel, he hugged her back. "You guys must be Max and Lando, it was a great race, really."

"Thank you, I'm a fan of your music. My favorite song from your new album is definitely 'Call A Cowboy', you're very talented." Lando said.

"Thank you so much. We should all take a photo togther!" Y/N said

"Great idea! You should stand next to Daniel and then Lando and I will be on each side." Max suggest. Y/N nods and Daniel has his arm around Y/N's waist. While taking the poictre, Daniel leaned down to Y/N's ear to whisper.

"Would you be interested in going out with me tomorrow night?" Daniel asked. Y/N looked up at him, smiled, and then asked him to lean down so she could whisper.

"I'd love to. You feel like waiting for me so we could get Wendy's after?" Y/N asked and Daniel immediately nodded. After the photo ops, they walked into the theater. "DM me on instagram and I'll give you my phone number later." Y/N said closer to Daniel and pulled away to adress the other F1 drivers that came later. "Hope you guys enjoy my performance." Y/N left.

"Danny, are you okay?" Oscar asked

"God bless Texas." Daniel said before they walked in to take their seats.

The End

Hope y'all liked it!

[vivwritesfics]

DOG SITTER FIC! DOG SITTER FIC! DOG SITTER FIC! (You already know who lmao)

Lewis has a new dog sitter while he's away filming. She just so happens to be cute af

everybody say thank you to Tiff for being the reason Beth and i were talking about this -- but also if i've got his dog's name and stuff wrong i might cry lmao

Part Two

(moodboard by @nurse-sainz)

It was a little terrifying, having a stranger stay in your house to look after your dog. But his friends swore that she was the real deal. A qualification in animal care and enough good reviews on her business social media.

But she was still a stranger in his house, looking after Bodie while he was away filming. He'd met her the day before, showed her around his house and gave her the few instructions she'd need to look after Bodie.

But Bodie was instantly taken with her. Tail wagging so hard he was almost falling over as she said hello.

Lewis couldn't stop himself from watching her. Sitting on the floor, Bodie climbing into her lap to sniff and lick at her face. "Yes, yes," she said through a laugh as she scratched behind his ears. "It's lovely to meet you, too."

Her laugh was melodic. She gently pushed him off, stood up and wiped at her trousers. "He's lovely," she said, still grinning. "I'd be more than happy to look after him." She grabbed her bag from the banister post and pulled out a few sheets of paper, stapled together. It was all very professional, he noticed. "Just shoot me a text once you've read through and signed it and I'll be there when you need me."

Lewis flicked through it quickly and looked at her. "Can you start tomorrow?"

Now there was a stranger in his house, looking after his dog while he was on the other side of the country. While he wasn't filming, he couldn't stop himself from wondering what she and Bodie were doing in that moment.

On his second day away from home, Lewis got his first picture from her.

Bodie on her lap, staring down at the camera. The corner of her face, half of her smile, was just visible. Miss you, dad! - Bodie she'd written just beneath.

Missing you too, Bodes! He replied.

The next picture came the next day. Bodie sat by her feet on their morning walk. He was stood to attention, waiting for her to throw a stick or something, Lewis assumed. He's been so good, she'd texted him.

I'm glad, he replied. How have you been? It was simply being polite, wasn't it? Simply, he was asking how she was finding his house, how she was finding taking care of Bodie.

He didn't mean for it to spark into an entire conversation. But she replied to him and then he replied to her and then she replied to him and then he replied to her.

It never turned unprofessional. No, just a dog sitter talking to her employer. She sent more pictures of Bodie, including a video where he fetched a stick. When she disappeared (to walk Bodie home), Lewis couldn't stop himself from feeling disappointed. But she returned quickly and the conversation resumed.

The next week continued on in this manner. Texts, pictures and such. Lewis began looking forward to pictures and messages from her, even when she pretended to be Bodie messaging him. The better pictures had been saved to his phone.

Bodie at the beach, Bodie having a nap, Bodie on the spare bed with her.

There was maybe a week left of filming when Lewis got a phone call from her. She hadn't called him before, always opting to text instead. For some reason, it filled him with an insane amount of anxiety.

He swiped his thumb across his phone screen. Immediately, Bodie's face filled his screen. "Hey Buddy," he said and Bodie let out something of a snort.

But she was nowhere to be seen. "Is everything okay?" Lewis asked as he tried to catch a glimpse of her.

And then her face came into his view. He didn't mean for his breath to catch in his throat when he saw her, cowboy hat on is head. The cowboy hat that was normally hanging from his wall.

"Thought Bodie wanted to actually speak to his dad," she said, eyes shutting and voice coming out muffled as Bodie climbed up her to lick her face. "I love you too, Bode, but your daddy is callin'."

Lewis let out a whistle. As soon as he did, Bodie turned towards him and let out a little yap. "Yeah, boy," she said and scratched behind his ear. "That's your daddy."

"Nice hat," Lewis said, unable to hide his grin.

She pulled it down slightly, playing the part of the flirty cowboy. "Ma'am," she said, deepening her voice and putting on a country accent.

Lewis put the phone down, propped up on a counter top, and stepped back, revealing his outfit. "Holy shit!" She laughed as she looked at him, at the leather chaps and plaid shirt he was wearing. "You're a fucking cowboy!"

"I'm a fuckin' cowboy," he answered, grabbed his brown hat and put it on his head.

She was smiling so damn wide.

And that was when Lewis realised he had a crush. He had a goddamn crush on his dog sitter.

[w1ngedsoul]

dating caroline forbes...

pairings: caroline forbes x feminine character

warnings: mentions of sexual content

she's the sweetest girlfriend ever <3

literally you couldn't be any happier

she's always complimenting you, telling you she loves you, etc

she is 100% a swiftie

so you can only imagine her beaming face when you revealed that you had bought her taylor swift concert tickets

liters your face in kisses 💋

lipstick stains are left on your face

she's the type of girl to do scrapbooking

has photos from dates, holidays, school events like decade dances, just random stuff tbh

made you a moodboard of pictures of you and her for your birthday

she LOVES doing secret santa

she's just made for gift giving, literally never disappoints

she once bought bonnie a book of ancient spells she got in new orleans, a locket, a curler, a bunch of fashion magazines and her favourite chocolates

she prefers summer over winter any day 🌞

the thought of tanning and drinking a fancy cocktail just sits right with her

if you're a witch, she'll always be with you when you're doing spells to make sure you're okay

not that she doesn't think you can't defend yourself, but if something were to go wrong and she wasn't there then she wouldn't be able to forgive herself

she LOVES watching you do spells and you use it to your advantage

for example, if she wanted to style your hair and didn't have any extra clips to pin a section of your hair, you just levitate the piece of hair and she's ✨amazed✨

if you're a vampire, she's totally supportive whether you decide to feed off of humans or follow stefan’s bambi diet 🐇🐿️

you guys enjoy compelling people at different shops so that you can have your own little fashion show 🛍️

'does the green t-shirt make me look fat?'

'i love that pattern! you have to try it on!'

if you're a werewolf, this woman is the most caring and loving person you've ever met 🫶

she plans everything a week before your transition, wolfsbane bottles, chains secured tightly, she even gets you to digest a random herb that supposedly dials down the pain

literally the best gf 💞

she loves cooking so much, you walk into her house and she's either flicking through fashion magazines or baking brownies

her baking tastes SO good

like the american mary berry

she loves cuddling, whether you're spooning or laying your head on her stomach (or her breasts 🤭)

she's like a little bear during winter, little suffocating you with herself and a blanket

when meeting her mother, liz absolutely loved you and is always asking you to come over for dinner

so interested in you and caroline's relationship

#gossipgirl

caroline LOVES dates 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩🍝🕯️

she loves organising the perfect location, buying flowers, setting up candles, etc

once you took her up this beautiful view up a mountain with a romantic picnic

let's just say you got a very pleasant thank you later that night...😘

speaking of, caroline is a FREAK in the sheets

no wonder she had almost every man in the series 🫣

we're talking lingere, toys, being tyed up, different locations and positions, sensual music and candles, petals, her sending you pictures while you're at work...

she literally loves you more than herself and would die for you

[homocidalpotat]

Hello! I was wondering if you had tips on how to get used to tumblr and stuff and how to make friends? I’m new on here and I don’t know how to exist in the space :)

Hi anon! Sorry I didn't respond earlier, I wrote a response and tried to post it but forgot I was on post limit and lost everything :/

Okay, so for starters, you need a blog theme. Always choose a profile picture and header image because otherwise you seem like a bot. Put some nice colours into your blog, and add a title and caption! Open asks- if people can't talk to you, it can be hard to make friends. You can always turn them off later or mess with the settings to find the right mode to keep your askbox safe. (If you need help with how to set this up, let me know!)

Check your settings for your blog- who can see your posts or DM you, how safe are you? Go through every tab on settings to make sure it's all okay before you go and risk something happening. While most people on Tumblr are lovely, you need to be aware that this is the internet. There are going to be people who pick fights or harass you. Make sure you're prepared for that when it happens. Block and report. And don't share anything too personal that could get you doxxed or harmed

Make a pinned intro post! It's a fun way to advertise yourself and adds to your theme. You can play with dividers and moodboards and text colours, whatever. What should people refer to you as? What are some key parts of your identity? Share anything you feel comfortable sharing, but take it from me- a big, jumbled up intro means an unread intro. Including interests is a big one- if people see you have a shared interest with them, they might follow you. Also include a DNI so that the right people are following you. Always be super clear about boundaries. If you aren't, people will ignore it or try to find a way around it. Sure, some people might tell you you're unkind for having boundaries, but you're not. It's your blog so you can do whatever you like.

Don't go for the big blogs. Blogs with thousands of followers won't notice you specifically, they might not even answer your asks. They are lovely people, but they don't have the time or motivation to befriend every follower they get. If you want to make friends, talk to smaller blogs. We get so excited over new followers and mutuals and asks! Oh, asks are a big one. Send lots of asks, always! People get so much joy from seeing an ask in their inbox. Say something nice about them or something they did. Get to know them, send them jokes. That's a sure way to make friends.

Be yourself. There's no point in making friends if you're masking the whole time. Talk about YOUR interests and you will find people that also like that. Talk about yourself, speak normally, don't worry. As long as what you're posting isn't harmful, post it all! More posts and reblogs mean more people will find you and say "Oh, they look cool!".

I don't think I've covered everything, but you can DM me, send me another ask, or whatever, and I will respond! I hope this helps and you make lots of lovely friends. (I could be your friend...?) :33

<3

[peakyswritings]

Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

PART II

Summary: Nina has a chat with Tommy, and she doesn’t hesitate to make some things clear. As they get to know each other more, they learn one thing: neither of them wants to let the other win.

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, English is not my first language.

A/N: This is set somewhere between season 1 and 2. Feedback is always appreciated🤍 Read part I HERE

SERIES MASTERLIST

SERIES MOODBOARD

Gif credit

Dividers credit

Tommy followed Nina’s quick steps down the hallway of her big house, his mind still racing from the past events. He still had to come to terms with the fact that he was in Sicily, he was alive, and the deal was not some trap set in order to get rid of him.

Nina stopped in front of a door, turning to look at him for the first time since she had started walking. She tucked a loose strand of her long hair behind her ear, finally resting her gaze upon him.

“This is your room.” She said, opening the door. “It has a private bathroom. If you need more towels or stuff like that, you can take them from the cabinet at the end of the hallway. Make yourself at home.”

Her flat tone, in high contrast with her polite words, made it plain that she had been told to be civil, and that she didn’t really care about him feeling comfortable. Tommy figured that the grudge she apparently held against him was probably due to the fact that, just like he didn’t trust those people, she didn’t trust him.

Nina’s dark eyes shifted to stare at something right above his head, and it didn’t take him long to realise she was looking at the razors sewn in his cap. He waited for her bold facade to crumble, for the unmistakable signs of fear to appear on her face. However, defying all his expectations, the glimpse shining in her eyes was not one of fear, rather one of curiosity.

“The Peaky Blinders…” she murmured, more to herself than to him, with the tone of someone who was suddenly aware of something. Then she blinked, seemingly recollecting herself. “I just wondered why you called yourselves like that.” She explained.

“Now you know.” He said, with a nod of his head.

Silence fell between them as they stood face to face, studying each other, all while keeping their distance. There was a fiery stubbornness in her eyes, but it wasn’t intentional, or a mere way of presenting herself to the world. It was rooted in her very nature. That restless gaze was something that Tommy knew all too well.

“Anyway, you won’t need it.” Nina suddenly spoke, nodding towards his cap. “Just like you won’t need the gun you’re hiding inside your coat. Don’t bring them to the lunch.”

Tommy squinted his eyes, opening his mouth to say something, but no sound came out of it as words failed him. How the hell would she know what he was hiding in his coat?

She shot him one last glance before walking past him, without giving him the chance to speak. Only when she reached the middle of the hallway, she spoke again, slightly raising her voice. “Lunch will be served in an hour. Don’t be late.”

“He’s not an old man.”

Nina went straight to the point as she stormed inside her cousin’s bedroom, eager to ease at least one of her worries. After her conversation with Tommy, she had hastily left her house, crossed the shared garden, and rushed inside Agnese’s house for an update session.

“Good.” Agnese said, taking one last look in the mirror before turning to face her cousin, who had proceeded to sit on her bed. “How does he look?” She asked, some sort of trepidation in her eyes.

Not like a Devil, Nina thought to herself. She had heard stories about him, about how everybody called him “The Peaky Blinder Devil”. She had pictured him like an unpleasant man - nasty, even -, rough and surly. Instead, he couldn’t have been more different. She had to admit that he was, in fact, quite attractive. And his manners were fairly good.

“He’s… nice.” She hesitated, the word feeling like a burning lump she had to swallow. “He has blue yes.”

Agnese stared at her with a puzzled look in her eyes, probably expecting something more articulate. But as much as she tried, Nina couldn’t find the words to describe the man she had just met. For some reason, they just wouldn’t come out.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be a Teresa.” Nina broke the silence with a joke, making her cousin chuckle.

“Well, that’s a relief.”

Teresa was a girl they used to play with when they were children, a sweet girl, unfortunately born in a poor family. She was married off as soon as she turned eighteen. The man was twice her age, smelled foul and missed a front tooth.

Being a Teresa was not that uncommon.

“Anyway, it’s not like he’s betrothed to me. They just suggested him to marry me.” She remarked, grabbing a hairbrush and turning towards the mirror again. “He might not choose me.”

Nina raised her eyebrows as she looked at her cousin in disbelief. “Are you serious?” She asked, slightly raising her voice. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the village, everybody says. And you’re gentle, and good.”

Agnese shook her head, slowly brushing her brown hair. “My sisters are beautiful as well. And so are our cousins both from your mother and my mother’s side.”

“Yes, but your sisters are not even twenty yet. And our cousins don’t know a single English word.” She pointed out. “Who else would he choose, me?”

A genuine laugh escaped from Agnese’s lips at her cousin’s sarcastic remark. Everybody knew Nina wasn’t exactly marriage material, with her smart mouth and unusual ideas. Silence fell between them as Agnese struggled to tie the front parts of her hair behind her head with a ribbon. Nina got up from the bed and walked up to her. She took the ribbon from her hand and started to style her hair. “Don’t be worried, Agnese. I’m sure he’ll only have eyes for you.” She said softly, giving her a supportive smile through the mirror.

When she finished, Nina sat back on the bed, suddenly becoming serious. She fidgeted with the hem of a blanket, trying to voice her thoughts without sounding negative. “Is this what you want, though?”

Agnese glanced at her with furrowed eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t it be?” She asked, pure wonder in her voice. “I’ve always known I’d have to get married.”

Nina sighed, slightly shaking her head. Sometimes she felt like her thoughts were something that could be understood by her and only her. She had no one to share them with, no one who would genuinely listen. And even though her cousin was the only one who didn’t look at her as if she was some lost cause, Nina knew that, deep down, she thought what everybody else did. That one day, Nina would have to stop with her nonsense and get married.

“Yes, but doesn’t it bother you?” Nina asked, her dark eyes full of obstinacy. “They don’t involve us in the business, but they use us as some sort of bargaining chip when it suits them.” She spat out.

“The business is men’s business, Nina.” Agnese said with a soft voice, trying to reason with her. “We help the only way we can.”

“But what do we get from it?” She insisted.

“Security, stability. Someone who provides for us. That’s how things are. It’s not like we have any other choice.”

Nina scoffed, putting an end to the conversation. It was an important day for her cousin, and she didn’t want to ruin it for her. But as much as she tried to support her, she couldn’t understand how she could just accept that. In moments like those, their difference emerged in all its magnitude.

And she was well aware they really couldn’t be any more different. Not just in the way they thought, but in the very depths of their being. That difference was right before everyone’s eyes. She had been compared to Agnese all her life, to her beauty, to her softness. There was nothing soft about Nina. She was all sharp edges and searing looks. Where Agnese wore a smile bright enough to put the sun to shame, Nina wore a scowl. Where Agnese’s words, sweet like honey, meant to soothe, Nina’s words meant to cut. She was outspoken, and defensive, and angry. Angry at her family, whose judgmental stare burned on her skin. Angry at her mother, who had wanted her different since the moment she had drawn her first breath. Angry at her father, who still treated her like a little girl who knew nothing of the word. Angry at Tommy Shelby, who thought he could just barge in and state some claim over one of them.

Standing up, Nina shot her cousin one last look before walking towards the door. “I’ll wait for you in the garden.”

Not even half an our after Tommy Shelby’s arrival, the garden was already full of nosy relatives, half of whom didn’t even have a part in the business. The news of there being a gangster had roused the interest of ambitious mothers and their giddy daughters.

“Is it always like this?”

Tommy’s voice came to Nina’s as he walked up to her, stopping by her side. She was quite pleased to see that he had listened to her and taken off his cap, along with his coat and his jacket. No gun nor razors in sight.

“No, thank God.” She shook her head. “Usually, we only gather on Sunday. But now you’re here, and everybody’s curious.” She explained, her Italian accent coming through with all those r’s. “Those people there,” she pointed towards a group of people talking next to the table, “they’re from my mother’s side. And those ones-” she indicated another set of relatives, “they’re from Aunt Rita’s side, Agnese’s mother. I’d tell you to introduce yourself, but they don’t speak English.”

Tommy nodded to himself, trying to keep all that information in mind. “Are they part of the business, too?”

“No. The business is only run by my father’s side of the family. By they do benefit from it.”

A part of him was glad that he didn’t have to remember all of those people, or to interact with them. His main concern were the Ferrante brothers - or rather, two of them, since Antonio had stayed in England -, their wives and their sons and daughters.

“For the next few days this is how it’s gonna be.” Nina spoke again, a hint of annoyance in her voice as she looked around. “Once you make it clear who it is that you want to marry, the whole thing will die out. I hope.”

“Your uncle Mario has three daughters, right?” Tommy asked, trying to put together what he had learned about the family. He was pretty sure he remembered all of the important things, but a recapitulation wouldn’t hurt.

“Yes.” She confirmed. “Agnese, Rosa and Sofia.”

“And you only have brothers.” He said, taking his cigarette case out of his pocket. He opened it and offered Nina a cigarette, but she politely declined.

“No, thank you. Two older brothers.”

He rubbed the cigarette against his lower lip before lighting it. He took a long drag, relishing the calming feeling of the smoke filling his lungs. All that situation was nerve-racking, way more than he had imagined. They could’ve simply arranged a marriage with Agnese and get on with it, but no, they had to do things the right way. See if they got along, see if there could be a better match. But it just looked like some kind of sale.

“So it would be convenient to marry one of you four.” He noted, speaking more to himself than to her. “Because all of your other cousins and their family are not directly involved in the business. And they don’t speak English.”

“One of them.” She corrected him, crossing her arms over her chest.

Tommy blinked, feeling like he had missed some part of the conversation. “What?”

“You’re here to marry one of them.” Nina clarified, emphasising the last word. “I took myself out of the list.”

He exhaled a cloud of smoke, trying to hide the amused grin that threatened to appear on his face. Although he barely knew that girl, the thing didn’t surprise him in the slightest. “Could you do that?”

“Who cares?” She shrugged, raising her eyebrows. “It’s not like you could force me anyway.”

There was something entertaining in those quick answers, in the way she didn’t hesitate to make things clear. He had the impression that she had been constantly challenging him since the moment they had met, and it was something completely different from what he was used to. He wasn’t even sure she was doing it on purpose, it seemed to be just her way of being. “No, I couldn’t.” He agreed, flicking the ash to the ground. “And I wouldn’t. But if I were to choose you, and you were to say no, and I were to consider all of your cousins as unsuitable, I could decide to go on with the war. Would you take that responsibility upon yourself?” He provoked her, squinting his eyes.

Of course, Tommy would’ve never done something like that. It wasn’t in his interest to find a wife that was “suitable”, he only wanted to put an end to that war. But the girl in front of him seemed clever and quick-witted, and he was curious to see how long she would manage to hold her own.

“As I come to understand, this peace is more necessary to you than it is to us.” Nina started. “You were the ones who have been hit the hardest. You lost two pubs and a warehouse, right? And a few men.” She added, and it sounded more like a statement than a question. She cast him a sly glance, her brown iris glinting with smugness when she noticed the muscles clenching in his jaw. “You won’t go on with the war, it would be suicide.”

Tommy raised eyebrows with a nod, finding himself in the position of acknowledging that she, in fact, had a point. “I thought you weren’t involved in the business.” He said, before taking another drag from his cigarette. He knew the Italians were more old-fashioned in that sense. The men didn’t trouble their wives, sisters and daughters with the matters of business, not only because said business was dangerous, but mainly because there was a hierarchy to respect.

“I’m not.” She shook her head. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know things.” She added cryptically.

Tommy had to give it to her, she was smart. However, there was a small detail she was forgetting, and he was determined to have the last word. “The thing is,” he drew on his cigarette again, taking his sweet time before going on. “If your family didn’t need me, I wouldn’t be here.”

He turned to look at Nina, staying quiet for a few seconds to test her reaction. She kept her gaze on a spot in front of her, waiting for him to go on, and from the expression on her face Tommy knew he had a chance of winning that conversation. “You can’t defeat Sabini without my help. You know he’s working with the Solomons, now?”

That was it. With a certain satisfaction, Tommy realised that she had no idea of what he was talking about. Maybe she didn’t know everything, after all. “You don’t even know who Solomons is, do you?” He rubbed it in with a taunting tone, stomping out his cigarette.

Before she could have the chance to answer, a voice called from behind them.

“Mr Shelby.”

Vincenzo Ferrante approached him, followed by a man and a young woman. “Meet my brother, Mario, and his daughter, Agnese.”

Tommy shook Mario’s hand before shifting his attention to the girl. They were right, she was a beauty. Her brown hair fell down to her shoulders, framing her sweet face. The pink, floral dress she was wearing flowed around the soft curves of her body, gracefully brushing against her rounded hips. Her doe eyes looked at him with shyness, and for a moment she seemed almost intimidated. But then, her full lips curved in a gentle smile, and her cheeks turned a vivid shade of pink as she held out her hand to him.

“Pleasure.” He shook it delicately, offering her a kind smile.

Agnese then turned to Nina, giving her a warm hug, but it was clear that it was just an excuse to whisper something in her ear. Nina shook her head, saying something in a fake scolding tone, making her cousin laugh.

“Come, Mr Shelby,” Vincenzo spoke again, drawing Tommy’s attention back to him. “I’ll introduce you to my wife.”

Against Tommy’s expectations, the lunch ran smoothly. He was introduced to Nina’s mother, Maria, and Agnese’s mother, Rita, although he didn’t speak much with them because of their lack of English. He engaged in conversation with Nina’s older brothers, Salvatore and Pietro, who were starting to take part in the Italian side of the business, and he met Agnese’s sisters. Sitting across from Nina, he noticed how she only spoke with Agnese, while her interactions with her aunts - the ones from her mother’s side of the family - were brief and characterised by some kind of tension. Her numerous cousins, for their part, seemed to barely acknowledge her existence. Tommy couldn’t help but steal a glance at her from time to time. For all she tried to put on a serene face, her rigid posture gave away how uncomfortable she actually was. Perhaps this time he had stared at her for a bit too long, because she raised her gaze from her plate to look at him. Their eyes met for a second, but Tommy was quick to look away, nodding at something that Mario Ferrante had said to him.

The lunch lasted until the early afternoon. After the majority of the relatives who had joined it had left - except for some of the aunts - Maria and Rita called their daughters to help cleaning everything up. Tommy remained sat at the table with Vincenzo, his two sons and Mario, all of them ready to settle the terms of the peace once and for all. Tommy’s headache, which had been plaguing him since the moment he had left Small Heath, was finally starting to subside. Now he would declare his intention to start courting Agnese, as they had suggested, and hopefully in a few weeks he’d be married and with one less enemy. Too much time had already been wasted, and getting to know the other girls would’ve slowed everything down even more. He wasn’t there to find the perfect match, he was there to save his family and his business. Agnese would do.

“So one of yours might get married soon, eh, Mario?” Vincenzo teased his brother, grabbing a bottle full of some bright yellow liquid that his wife had brought, before pouring it five small glasses. “Limoncello.” He said, handing one to Tommy.

“Who says? Maybe it’s your Nina that will get married.” Mario playfully retorted, winking at him with the glass in his hand.

Vincenzo chuckled, as if his brother had said the most amusing thing in the world. “You know my Nina’s not ready for marriage. Let’s leave her alone for a couple more years.” Having said that, he shot Tommy a look. It was a silent warning, my daughter is not up for sale.

Tommy cleared his throat, straightening his back. Maybe it was a bit too soon to declare his intention. As much as he wanted to get it over with, he didn’t want to seem hasty. Because, again, those people wanted to do things the right way.

Waiting two or three days wouldn’t hurt.

“Look at them, sitting at the table like fucking kings.” Nina murmured, looking out the window as she scrubbed a plate. “God forbid they raise a finger.”

Luckily for her, neither her mother nor her aunts could understand what she was saying, and her cousins were too busy talking amongst themselves to listen to her. She was in no mood for a scolding. She kept on cleaning, getting lost in her own thoughts. That day had been draining, and it wasn’t even over yet. It was always like that, every time that the family gathered. Feeling judged and looked down upon for everything she said or did was tiring. It didn’t matter how much she tried to be good, there was always someone ready to point their finger behind fake curiosity and nasty smiles.

And now they were speaking loudly, talking about how beautiful Agnese was, about how Mr Shelby surely was already in love with her. Nina pretended not to see how they tended to look at her while making their comments. It was an implicit comparison, she knew. And she knew she was right when the comparison became explicit. Aunt Clara, one of her mother’s sisters, said only half jokingly that Nina would find a husband as well one day, if she decided to get rid of that frown and put some meat on those bones.

For once, Nina bit her tongue and kept on scrubbing the plate, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of a retort. Her mother, however, blushed and cleared her throat, almost embarrassed by the situation. Nina knew that her opinion about her was not that different from her aunts’, and that her behaviour was indefensible even for her mother.

Maria poured the coffee she had just prepared in five small cups that she had placed in a tray, then asked her daughter to bring it to the men. Nina sighed and grabbed the tray. At least she could leave that kitchen now.

She went out into the garden and walked to the table, that was now full of cigarette holders, matches, bottles and small glasses. She squeezed between their chairs, trying to find an empty spot big enough to place the tray. No one seemed to notice as she struggled make space with one hand, while with the other she balanced the tray, trying her best not to spill the coffee. A wave of irritation spread from her stomach, slowly rising to her chest and shoulders, all the way to her head, and soon she was gritting her teeth, her patience rapidly running out. Just when she was about to snap, two strong hands grabbed the tray, guiding it towards the space she had just cleared. Tommy’s blue irises pierced through her, and for a moment all her anger left her. There was something calming, in that particular shade of blue. She cast him a grateful glance, not only for his help, but mainly for preventing her from throwing a fit.

“Oh, no, no, please, sit, Mr. Shelby.” Her brother Pietro said, waving his hand. Nina raised her eyebrows, fighting the urge to slap him on the back of his head.

Tommy squinted his eyes and for a moment it seemed like he was about to say something. Then his gaze rested upon Nina again, and he nodded at her. “Thank you for the coffee.” He said, sitting back in his chair.

She took a few steps back, looking at him one last time before starting to walk away. Before she could go far, Pietro’s voice came to her ears again.

“Hand me the ashtray.”

Nina stopped in her tracks, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She gathered all her strength to remain calm, and turned around to look at him. “You have hands,” she simply said, before going back to the house.

It would be a long day, indeed.

NEXT PART

Heart, Body and Soul tag list: @zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms @call-sign-shark @kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240

Regular tag list: @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989

Tommy Shelby tag list: @50svibes

[gaysindistress]

A Fool’s Devotion

a teaser

I have to give credits & thanks to @malsorie for letting me use her stunning art for this moodboard as well as inspiring this fic. The center picture as well as the bottom one are her master pieces.

So without further ado:

“You’re here,” her voice cracks for a moment as she speaks to me but continues to stare past me, “I was beginning to wonder when you would make your appearance.”

“There are rules, Minthara.” She interrupts me by waving me off with the hand her chin had been resting on.

“Rules that even you have to follow,” I continue, “and I tried to warn you about what would happen if you broke them. I told you what the consequences would be if you continued down this path of murder and chased a power you would never hold. I sent you all kinds of signs, omens of what your future would hold should you continue to ignore me.”

I feel those exhausted red eyes cut to me, slicing through the leather of my armor and hoping to find a weak spot beneath. When no vein is ripe for her blade, she chooses a different route to maim me.

“A power I would never hold? You are a fool if you think that I haven’t been successful in my efforts to gain whatever it is that I seek.”

A sigh of defeat escapes my lips. I’d hoped that time would ease her determined mind but from what little she’s said, I can tell that it has only made it more rigid.

“Do the consequences of your actions not matter to you? Have you no sense of self preservation?”

Her hand falls to grip the edge of her chair. White strands of hair are disturbed from her movement but flutter back around her shoulders in moments as angry water laps at my feet. I fear that if I look down I would find a stormy wave ready to overtake me so that I may feel her anguish fully.

“Without it, I would have been dead by my mother’s own hand long ago. Self preservation is what has led me to where I am now. It’s been the only thing that has motivated me when all should be lost, when even you deserted me.”

[alwritey-aphrodite]

I don’t know about you…

But I’m feeling 22! In honor of my 22nd birthday, I thought I’d host a little celebration that we can think of as a little birthday party! And because it’s my Taylor Swift birthday, it is of course eras themed. To play, just send me the name of the album and any other information I’d need from the description of the game/prompt and I’ll do my best to answer in a timely manner <3 This runs from today (July 20) to my birthday (August 1), and please feel free to send as many asks as you’d like, as long as there’s only one era per ask <3

debut (our song in the slam of screen doors): send me a character, a situation, a vibe, an aesthetic, and i’ll make a little 5 song playlist for you

speak now (stop checking your mailbox for confessions of love): send in a love note! for me, or yourself, or anyone else on here - just spread some love and appreciation

fearless (take me somewhere we can be alone): send me a character and i’ll give you a few random headcannons, or send me your headcannons for them and we can chat <3

red (i’m feeling 22): send me 1-3 characters from the list below and a theme for a birthday party, and i’ll tell you who I’d invite and who i wouldn’t

1989 (got lovesick all over my bed): send me a little description of yourself and a character category from the list, and i’ll give you a ship

reputation (sirens to the beat of my heart): send me any three characters for a game of fmk!

lover (at every table, i’ll save you a seat): send me 3-5 characters from the list below, whether they’re from the same fandom or not, and i’ll tell you how i’d arrange them at a table at a dinner party

folklore (loosing on card game bets with Dalí): send me any sort of game (would you rather, this or that, etc) and we’ll play it!

evermore (my picture in your wallet): send me a character, a situation, a vibe, an aesthetic, and i’ll make a little moodboard for you

midnights (stumble down pretend alleyways): send me a character and an au, and i’ll explain how i’d combine them or write a little baby blurb

the tortured poets department (who uses typewriters anyway): send me a title for a fic and a character, and i’ll write either a 5 sentence baby blurb or an explanation of what i’d write for a full length fic

Character/Fandom List

Game of Thrones/House of The Dragon

Ted Lasso

Star Wars

Moon Knight

TASM!Peter Parker

Finnick Odair

Sejanus Plinth

Coriolanus Snow

Tagging a handful of my lovely friends: @onceuponaoneshotfanfic @pedrito-friskito @beybaldes @hopefulromances @veryprairieberry @whimsical-roasting @dameronalone @eyelessfaces @katsu28

[jobean12-blog]

Dark Desires

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

Word Count: 700

Summary: Now that he's finally found you he's never letting you go.

Author's Note: Another one for @pupandkisasaesthetics Aesthetic's challenge! Thank you bunches to beauties @sgt-seabass and @rookthorne for hosting such an awesome challenge!💕 And thank you bunches to my beautiful Ali @flordeamatista for reading this over and supporting me always!💕 Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰The moodboard is by me and the photo prompt I was given is the very top picture. I've also included it on its own at the bottom so you can get a good look!

Warnings: some angst and tension but he's soft (maybe soft!d-a-r-kish if you squint) and definitely s-e-x-y.

In the deep, dark of the woods, where the moon’s pale light struggles to pierce through the dense canopy of trees, there is a thick silence other than the rapid thumping of your heart and the rush of blood in your ears.

Your feet catch on fallen twigs and branches, your skin scraped and torn but you don’t stop running.

Unseen eyes watch from the shadows, a presence so powerful you can feel it in your bones.

You’re being hunted.

Instinct fuels your escape but it’s futile as the forest seems to shift around you, pathways twisting and turning in a disorienting dance.

As you stumble over the ground and fall to your knees you suck in a deep breath, the whisper of wind carrying strange murmurs in a language you don’t understand.

Suddenly, you feel a cool breath at your neck, your hairs standing on end and goosebumps shivering along your skin.

You turn with wide, fear filled eyes but there’s nothing but the darkness of the woods pressing ever closer.

You stand on shaky legs and step carefully toward a large tree, pressing your back to the thick bark and searching for the source of the palpable force.  

A tall and broad figure emerges from the shadows, it’s silhouette only something you’ve seen in books and as it moves closer, steps measured and deliberate, you can start to see the outline of huge wings.

You squeeze your eyes shut and will the image away, digging your fingertips into the tree.

The voice, when it speaks, is a whisper against the shell of your ear, powerful in it’s seduction and dangerous in it’s temptation.

 A slow and deeply satisfied smile frames sharp teeth and his breath quickens when he inhales at the soft skin of your neck.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “My perfect Angel.”

Your eyes are still closed tightly as a single tear rolls down your cheek. He lifts his thumb to tenderly brush it away.

“Open your eyes,” he says softly.

Unable to resist you do as he says.

“There,” he says, holding his saccharine smile. “Was that so hard.”

Your lips tremble as you try to find the words to speak. His thumb, still pressed to your skin, moves lower, tracing the outline of your mouth until he lightly presses against it, parting your lips.

“Don’t be afraid,” he coos, spreading expansive wings the color of twilight until you’re surrounded only by his presence. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

He tilts his head invitingly and holds your gaze, the horns that crown his head, twisting upward with artistic grace, glinting in the moonlight.

Your lips part further as something moves behind him, long and sinewy but before you can decipher what it is it disappears from sight.

“Wh…who are you?” you manage to ask as you finally let your eyes wander over the rest of his features.

He inches closer, his nearness creating a complex blend of emotions and sensations, blurring the lines between fear and desire in a way you could never have imagined.

His blue eyes are mesmerizing, their intensity both powerful and imposing but yet softened by an unyielding desire. Long but strong fingers continue to ghost over your face, his touch igniting a fire under your skin that spreads through your veins.

“James. You can call me James.”

You gasp out his name when you feel something slide along your calf. It’s touch is gentle despite the power you feel and as it explores the contours of your skin with reverent curiosity you become aware of what it is.

Each caress of his tail leaves a lingering trace of tingling sensations, awakening a trail of longing that seems to coil around your very being. He slides it between your breasts, lightly tracing the curve of your neck before he loosely wraps it around the delicate column.

“What are you going to do to me?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

His dark hairs falls forward, brushing your cheek as his soft lips caress your ear and his voice, like velvet, whispers promises that sink deep into the recesses of your desires.

“Everything Angel. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

@book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @late-to-the-party-81 @sebstanwhore @lookiamtrying @laineyreads @beccablogsthings @justkinsey @kmc1989 @littleseasiren

[b0r3dtod3ath]

hii! if ur requests are still open, may i ask for list A, going skiing with lewis? maybe when he’s on uncle duty as well? 🫶

Christmas Event Masterlist

A/N: I wrote headcanons for it, I hope you don't mind!

When Lewis came up with the idea to take his niece and nephew with you for a ski trip you were more than happy. He loved his family and wanted to give them as much time and attention as he could. Also, you quite enjoy seeing Lewis being surrounded by kids, it brings out a different side of him.

He made a playlist to listen to in the car on the way. It contains hits that the four of you sang at the top of your lungs as well as some more calmer, jazzy tunes as to not wake up tired kids while coming back.

He definitely teaches you how to ski if you don't know. He has a lot of experience and patience. Safety is key so none of you is seen without a helmet. It also gives you some privacy as no one can recognise him. He always has eyes around his head and looks after you and the kids.

Speaking of helmets: he's stylish as hell so creative skiing gear with a personal touch.

Once you are at the place that you rented he makes sure that kids go thru their night routine, he might even read them a bedtime story. Once they are asleep he places his full attention on you, not wanting you to feel even slightly left out.

Many off-the-slope activities such as building a snowman, snowball fights, going to the restaurant or board games in front of the fireplace.

Lewis, being active on social media, would likely take some pictures of the skiing adventure, sharing snapshots of you and the kids, the beautiful scenery, and maybe a few behind-the-scenes moments.

Bonus moodboard:

December 31, 2023

[diazheartsbuckley]

Inspiration Saturday + Seven Sentences Sunday 🫢

Tagged by @wikiangela @jamespearce9-1-1 @daffi-990 @hippolotamus @jeeyuns and @callmenewbie 🫶🏻

I made this moodboard like two weeks ago when the idea came to me but I was a little hesitant to post it because I don’t even have a plot for this story. Anyway, here it is and it’s bound to be a long one lol!

Priest/Mafia Boss AU

(or alternatively Good Vs. Evil AU)

Eddie is a man with a questionable past and after spending a few years in prison, he decided that he wants a different life for himself and to help others like him. So he become a priest and joins a church that it is known for its role in helping young people who’s going down the wrong path to become better people and not end up in jail. But Eddie’s past still haunts him.

Buck is the son of a notorious mob boss who was convicted of killing a police officer and sentenced to death. Destined for a life of crime, Buck rises against the expectations and become an enigmatic figure in the underworld. But one day something in him shifts.

As their paths intertwine, the echoes of a dark past and the allure of a dangerous present collide, unraveling a trail of transformation, unlikely connections, concealed identities and the enduring struggle for a life beyond the sins of yesterday

And a snippet from their first meeting beneath the cut!

In the quiet solitude of St. Michael's Church, Father Eddie Diaz stood before the flickering candles, their warm glow casting dancing shadows across the sacred space. As he carefully lit each candle, the subtle scent of burning wax filled the air. It was the only thing that seemed to be able to calm him down and hold the demons at bay.

The entrance creaked open, a sound almost drowned by the soft hymns echoing through the nave. Eddie, focused on the candles, felt a presence enter. Without turning, he sensed the weight of a gaze upon him.

“Welcome. What brings you here tonight?” He questioned. Unbeknownst to him, the lingering shadow behind him belonged to Evan Buckley, a man carrying the weight of a blood-stained linage. A man who had made a name for himself for being even more ruthless and powerful than his father.

Evan, standing in the shadows near the entrance, hesitated. He didn’t even know why he was here. The priest was seemingly unbothered by him, continuing his task without shifting his focus.

Feeling the tension rise, Eddie spoke once again. “The flicker of a flame can illuminate even the darkest corners on your soul. Speak and the light will guide you”

As the candles continued to cast their warm glow, Eddie sensed the weight of the man’s presence still lingering in the shadows. Without turning, he spoke with a calm authority.

“This house of worship welcomes all seeking solace, but it cannot harbor weapons. Leave your burdens at the door, return without the weight you carry, and find the peace you seek”

Evan, surprised by the priest's perceptiveness, questioned with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

“How do you know what I carry, Father? You haven't even looked at me” He spoke, his hand subconsciously moving towards the gun pressing against his side. Still with his back towards the man, Eddie stood his ground and stared into the flames. He didn’t need to turn around to get a clear picture of the man standing behind him. And it unsettled him.

Tagging!! @watchyourbuck @cal-daisies-and-briars @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @vampbuckley @honestlydarkprincess @wildlife4life @butraura @nmcggg @captain-hen @jesuisici33 @fionaswhvre @spotsandsocks @steadfastsaturnsrings @lover-of-mine @disasterbuckdiaz @loserdiaz @exhuastedpigeon 🦋💗

[lunarsights]

Hi Sun! I was wondering if you can do Wooyoung’s ideal type like their physical appearance, traits, personality, etc and can you do examples of moodboard / pictures of what aesthetic / person they would be? Thank you if you do this kind of request, I hope it’s not a lot. If it is, it’s alright to just put what his ideal type is period. And I hope you’re doing well sis! -🧜🏽‍♀️

thank you for wishing me well!

just wanna let you know i tried to do a moodboard, but ultimately didn't because who wooyoung seems to be attracted to is really unconventional/eccentric, so nothing really fit. if i find some pictures later on, then i'll update!

𝙒𝙤𝙤𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜'𝙨 𝙄𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙏𝙮𝙥𝙚

𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲:

“Running up Freestyle” by Megan Thee Stallion

“ghostin” by Ariana Grande

“The Breaks” by Kurtis Blow

“PYT” by Michael Jackson

“Work” by Rihanna

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬:

Seven of Wands (Rx), Justice, Ten of Cups, Queen of Pentacles, Queen of Wands, The Empress, The Fool, The World, 

Knight of Wands, Three of Cups, Page of Wands, Ten of Wands, The Star

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

wooyoung could feel attracted to those who are somewhat emotionally unavailable. with the shufflemany songs, this can range from people who are hyper independent and feel comfortable being single or looking around to people who have a ton of “baggage” or trauma so to speak. there seems to be a feeling of wanting to prove himself worthy of being with someone? he’s attracted to people who have their walls up because he likes to break them down. this doesn’t seem to be in a toxic way though; it’s more in wanting to be a “knight in shining armor” way; “wanting to give people a miracle”.  a “boss woman” comes to mind also. despite their unavailability, he wants someone who does understand their emotions; i’m reminded of the idea of those who intellectualize their trauma, so he could be attracted to someone like that. 

he is also drawn to people with ambition and those who have hope despite what makes them seem unavailable sometimes. he likes people who try to go after everything they want but also know when to take a break and enjoy what all they’ve accomplished. with ten of cups i get the feeling he likes people who greatly value life experiences and creating connections with others; someone who has a close knit friend group or is okay with creating one once they get with him. i don’t see him being attracted to someone who’s a major social butterfly though. he seems to be more drawn to those who are homebodies with the presence of queen of pentacles. he’s also drawn to people who are creatives in some way; this doesn’t necessarily have to deal with the arts - even just somebody who thinks creatively or out of the box would pique his interest.

there’s a lot of wands energy in this reading (especially on the appearance half), so he could be drawn to those who are fire dominant (aries, leo, sagittarius). he could be attracted to those who have what’s considered a “baby face”; those who have a lot of baby fat still. he could like those who dress in various colors; “not afraid to experiment”. he could be attracted to those who look different than what people expect or unconventional (ie. dressing outside of what’s trendy, openness to those who aren’t korean and for those who are korean could be fine with them not fitting the traditional beauty standards). he also likes those who “look happy”, “rejuvenated”, and “youthful”. 

i also want to point out that Megan Thee Stallion popped up quite a few times, so that could be someone he’s currently attracted to/interested in as an example.

𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲:

“Killing Me Softly” the Fugees

“One More Night” by Anthony Ramos

“Hiss” by Megan Thee Stallion