#Julian Thompson

[fleursial]

[finnestra]

Some ryan gosling character charts because you truly can't have too many.

[hello-there]

Communities are a new way to connect with the people on Tumblr who care about the things you care about! Browse Communities to find the perfect one for your interests or create a new one and invite your friends and mutuals!

[goslings-girlx]

RYAN GOSLING MOVIE RADAR!

Hello, honey buns! I have searched high and far to bring you EVERY RYAN GOSLING MOVIE at the moment that is FREE TO STREAM!

YOUTUBE :

Song To Song (2017)

Half Nelson (2006)

Lars And The Real Girl (2007)

The Big Short (2015)

Stay (2005)

NETFLIX :

All Good Things (2010)

The Gray Man (2022)

La La Land (2016)

HOOPLA :

Fracture (2007)

The Slaughter Rule (2003)

ROKU :

The Believer (2002)

Only God Forgives (2013)

DISNEY+ :

Remember The Titans

————————————————————————————————————————

Now, streaming services often let go and add new movies to there platforms so this can be updated if you guys would like me to! (Btw Lalaland was just added to Netflix today + Blade Runner was just taken OFF of Disney+ a week ago T_T)

[ken-dom]

Touch

Julian Thompson x afab!reader

2k words

Summary: Julian's mother gives you two things: anxiety and a good idea.

Author's notes: Give me a pathetic and/or sopping wet man with issues and I have this burning, insatiable need to make him cum!

Warnings/content: nsfw, fingering, hand job, mentions of masturbation, mentions of Julian's mother, mommy issues all over the place, premature ejaculation, this is kind of an alternative ending to the scene where Mai pretends to be Julians girlfriend so it's probably worth mentioning that reader is Julian's escort I guess?

Julian was silent. His mother, a force to be reckoned with, had been vile. He hadn’t warned you beforehand that her tongue could be so utterly venomous, and you’d be inclined to think it was an act designed to scare you off if it hadn’t been for the way she talked about him so casually, and his reaction — or lack of, as she put him down and insulted him over and over again.

He walked a stride ahead of you, avoiding your touch and your eyes and any possibility of conversation, his shoulders hunched and step quick, breathing fast and a little ragged.

You stayed close behind, wanting to comfort him but not knowing how. You only knew he loved his mother more than anything or anyone and if you mentioned her right now he might explode.

And meeting her certainly explained a lot.

As you approached his apartment, a plan formed in your mind that you hoped could not only open him up to you, but teach him that he has worth outside of trying to please his disgusting mother.

As you stepped into the room, bathed in red, he immediately dropped down onto the chair in the corner, hands resting on his knees. He still didn’t look at you, but you knew what it meant; he needed you.

You perched on the bed before him and dipped your head, trying to capture his gaze. When you didn’t move, he looked up at you and then down to his hands, lifting and turning them, considering his flesh illuminated in crimson.

He held them out toward you then, eyes meeting yours again.

You knew what he expected. He was waiting for you to either tie his wrists down to the arms of the chair so he couldn’t touch you, or guide them to your core so you could get off on his touch while he just watched.

But tonight you did neither.

You reached forward, placing your hands in his, and simply held them.

He began to tremble.

‘Julian?’

His eyebrow twitched at the sound of his name on your lips. He still didn’t speak.

‘Come with me?’

His breath hitched.

You let go of his hands and slid back on the bed, out of reach but beckoning him to join you.

‘Come on,’ you encouraged softly.

Julian stood and stepped toward the foot of the bed as you opened your arms out to him. More than anything he wanted to collapse into them. To just be held.

He lifted a knee onto the edge of the mattress, keeping his gaze hot on yours as he laid down beside you, stiff as a board.

‘Here,’ you cooed, turning on your side to face him and encouraging him to do the same, pulling one of his hands toward you. ‘You can touch me.’

His eyes widened and he froze, snapping his gaze to his hand, hovering midair in the small space between your body and his.

‘It’s ok,’ you soothed, reminding him again, ‘you can touch, it’s alright.’

Julian swallowed hard, hesitating for a split second before shoving his hand between your thighs and slipping your underwear to one side with his fingers before plunging one inside you.

You gasped, and in turn, he moaned.

‘Fuck- yes!’ you hissed, and his chest heaved, heavy breaths filling the inch between you.

His heart hammered in his chest. You were wet. For him. 

He pumped his finger steadily, unwittingly hitting that spot inside that made your core clench every time he dragged his finger out and pushed back in.

It was different when he was doing it himself. You could tell he was afraid, and that he wanted more, so you rocked your hips into his palm. A quick learner, he got the hint, fucking you faster and you gasped.

‘J-Julian, yes- so good- so good- mmh!-’

You allowed yourself to touch him then. You’d held off, not wanting to blur the line between making it clear that he was doing this to you, and the way you would usually guide him, rutting against his palm as he watched.

‘Don’t stop,’ you whined as your fingertips drove into his broad shoulders, ‘please- please don’t stop-’

You’d never spoken so many words during your encounters, and whilst it was in aid of praising him, it was also entirely real, and he could tell. This wasn’t a show you were putting on for him, or a service you were providing. You actually wanted him. He was making you feel good.

Julian bit his lip, eyebrows worrying into a frown. His cock was aching inside his trousers, and he’d never wanted to fuck you so badly in all the time he’d known you. He’d cum in his underwear untouched before at the sight of your pleasure, but never when he was the one providing it. He needed to hold off but it was becoming harder by the second.

‘You’re so fucking good,’ you keened, and he felt a thick pearl of precum pump from his tip, cock throbbing and hungry for attention, and he moaned again.

You realised then that you’d never heard him moan at all before tonight, but in showing him some basic encouragement, without even touching him, you’d made him moan twice in the space of two minutes. 

‘Please, Julian, may I touch you?’ you breathed, fighting to keep your breath even as he slid his finger out of you completely and carefully massaged your throbbing clit, the way he’d memorised from when you’d guided him. ‘May I… kiss you?’

He nodded slowly, bewildered that you’d asked this of him, and you pushed forward, pressing your lips to his and brushing your tongue along his bottom lip to beg for entry. He granted it with another moan, and when your tongues slid together he eagerly thrust his finger back inside your walls, fucking into you with renewed vigour.

He was close, and if he didn’t make you cum soon he’d spill before you had the chance to touch him.

Your hands flew to his belt, hurriedly unfastening the buckle around his pistoning wrist, and reaching inside to stroke your palm along his deliciously thick cock.

You were struggling to focus on wrapping your fingers around his length with the way he was grinding his palm against your clit and mercilessly fingerfucking you, but you managed it. You gave a few firm pumps of his cock before your legs shook and your back arched and he brought you tumbling over the edge, your fist working faster on him as your climax ripped through you, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

And that’s all it took.

His release spilled, hot and thick, over your hand, a low grunt and a drawn out whine and it was all over. He trembled as you stroked him through the last of his release, breath hot against your skin as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, panting and trembling.

You smiled, thrilled that you’d finally actually seen him cum for you. He denied himself pleasure every time you’d been together, even the times when his fists balled and his arms strained to be free from the restraints you tied around them, but not tonight. He let himself feel it, let himself enjoy it.

In honesty, you’d hoped to fuck him, but you could wait. There would be time. Besides, the thought that he came so quickly for you made your core clench again.

As his breathing evened, he flopped weakly onto his back, the hand between your thighs disappearing with him, as he whimpered through the aftershocks of his pleasure, feeling his cock, wet and twitching, soften inside his boxers.

He flinched when you snuggled into his side, entirely expecting you to get up and leave now you’d got what you wanted from him.

You’d always been reluctant to leave, he’d noticed, and assumed it was because there was something you wanted that he couldn’t provide. But, it had been what he requested of your arrangement; you give yourself pleasure by any means necessary, don’t let him cum, then leave. This had been incredibly different. Still, your warmth startled him, and he wasn’t sure what that conflict bubbling up inside was, but he was very much leaning toward liking it. So he settled down.

‘That was so hot, Julian… Do you know how hard you made me cum with those big, strong hands?’

He shook his head.

You wanted to stroke his cheek and tell him he deserved to enjoy pleasure instead of denying himself it, but you didn’t think that would go down well, especially when you considered how his mother spoke to him, so you settled for a simple, ‘You did so good for me, baby.’ 

‘Why?’ His voice sounded weak, like he was on the brink of tears.

‘Because you’re so good with your hands, and you came so hard for me. And… because I wanted you so badly and I finally got to see you cum for me.’

Julian’s head was spinning. Your arm was comfortably tight over his chest, fingertips tracing soothing patterns into his shoulder where your nails had left aching little bruises. He’d never heard praise like this. You were being kind. Why were you being kind? Did he deserve this, or did you pity him? Had his mother put you up to it as part of some elaborate lesson he had to learn?

He closed his eyes, trying to think clearly. He’d felt you clenching tight around his finger as you came, he’d heard the way you cried his name at the height of your climax. You’d brought him off willingly.

No, it was real. It had to be. There was no pity here.

His lips were still tingling with the force of your kiss, your slick was drying onto his fingers and his seed was cooling against his lower stomach while you were warm at his side. And all this, with the knowledge you really did want him was a new type of comfort he never knew he needed.

He thought of his mother. What would she say if she knew you touched him this way? And then he thought of how he’d never felt anything close to this level of safety or comfort from her. Rage bubbled up in his belly, hot and uncomfortable, and despite him liking whatever this was, something inside him snapped like a rubber band and he was about to tell you to get out, until you interrupted his thoughts.

‘Julian, I know it’s not our usual arrangement, but… I’d like to stay with you, if you’d let me.’

‘Why?’

There it was again. Still incredulous, but this time, a little more heated.

‘I want to hold you. This feels nice.’

The conflict inside him came crashing to the forefront of his mind, the clarity of your words overpowering that fire in his gut that told him his mother wasn’t able to comfort him the way he wanted her to, and that it was somehow your fault because you could, even after she had spat venom at your for an hour straight and told you his brother had the bigger cock.

The thing is, you were right. This did feel nice. He couldn’t deny it, and he wanted it more than anything. He wanted to feel safe and wanted and loved. He doubted you could ever actually love him; who could? Even his own mother had found it difficult as she so often reminded him.

But he couldn’t deny the butterflies fighting for dominance above the flames in his stomach, or the way his heart skipped a beat when you pulled his head close to your chest and caressed his hair and didn’t ask for anything in return other than to stay like this. Like he wanted to.

‘Rest, Julian. It’s ok. You did so good.’

A ghost of a smile pulled briefly at one side of his mouth. ‘Please… stay.’

[joes-eyelashes]

Coquette babies

[redmarch07]

I have a problem with suddenly disappear... but today i bring you the drawing i did for my phonecase :D

Lots of mini goslings :3

[drivinmeinsane]

Happy winter everyone! Welcome to my 12 Days of Goosemas masterlist for 2023. This is a collection of twelve fanfictions all under two thousand words each and all pertaining to characters played by Ryan Gosling. Not all of these works are directly intended to be Christmas themed, but they are all set in the month of December and have some seasonal vibes!

My local timezone is GMT-6. The twelve fics will be posted starting December 12th at midnight and will continue through to December 24th.

A huge thanks to @danime25 for embarking on this journey with me by taking up her own 12 Days of Goosemas collection.

{ Hot Chocolate }※ Officer K / Reader ※ {ao3)

{ Christmas Movie } ※ Driver / Ken ※ {ao3}

{ Winter Break }※ Henry Letham / Reader {ao3}

{ Snow }※ Sierra Six / Reader ※ {ao3}

{ Holiday Party }※ Julian Thompson / Reader ※ {ao3} 18+

{ Decorating }※ Sebastian Wilder / Reader ※ {ao3}

{ Alone }※ Driver / Reader ※ {ao3}

{ Lights } ※ Holland March / Jackson Healy ※ {ao3}

{ Cookies } ※ Driver / Ken ※ {ao3} 18+

{ Snowstorm } ※ Colt Seavers / Reader ※ {ao3}

{ New Year }※ Henry Letham / Sam Foster ※ {ao3}

{ Mistletoe } ※ Driver / Reader ※ {ao3} 18+

{NON-SEASONAL MASTERLIST}

[dietcokeangel2004]

Silent Night

NSFW, smut, 18+

The room was painfully silent, the only sound is huffing breath, skin on skin and his sinful groans. He never spoke a word, you did all the talking the whole night and by the time his lips fell to yours it felt like a silent plea for you to shut up even though he shook his head no when you asked him that.

How you ended up in bed with Julian Thompson will forever be a mystery to you.

He was a regular customer at the strip joint you worked at and somehow you quickly became his favourite. Lap dances quickly turned into make out sessions which proceeded into blowjobs in one of the private rooms. You started to take him home roughly 7 months ago when he was severely beat up. It’s become a bit of a regular thing since then.

So tonight was not special, cleaning and dressing his wounds and having something for supper while watching tv. The cold hard truth is you’ve been wanting to kiss him for awhile but every time he seems so engorged in the tv show that you can’t seem to catch him.

But it was different tonight, it was all him tonight. “Would you like to make out?” His quiet husky voice bounces off your living room walls causing you to swivel around to look him in the eye. He had a light blush on his cheeks but looked you dead on. You wasted no time in crawling into hip lap and licking into his mouth, and that is how you ended up in bed with you begging his to pound your ass.

With you undressed on the bed and him almost fully clothed kneeling behind you, slowly sinking his cock in and out of you until he picked up a pace so brutal it had the headboard banging against the wall. Your insides ached and you tried to plead with him that you were about to cum but he wasn’t planning on slowing down. All you could do was babble incoherently nothing making sense anymore.

“ Julian my god oh god! “

It hit you like a tsunami, drowning you out and he wasn’t far behind. You heard the big groan before you felt the twitch of his cock and he spent himself deep inside of you. He slowly pulled out of the sticky mess to lay you down properly.

Leaving the room he came back with a face cloth to clean you up and followed to join you in bed. You both fell asleep in the once again silent room.

[uncleclam]

I am begging you to draw Henry like this it's still so fucking funny to me

lmaooo

catboy julian as extra

[webbo0]

What happens if I don't like it? It's only-

Sierra Six (Courtland Gentry)

AO3

Length: 4,252

Summary: Six goes to a support group to make Claire happy. Senanigans ensue.

In which Six has a sexuality crisis, Ken is a being of pure sunshine, Driver would kill to protect his loved ones, K is tired of everything, Richard and Henry are messy as always, Barbie is intimidating as hell, and Claire was probably right the whole time.

Content/Warning: Sexuality Crisis, PTSD, Brief description of flashbacks/panic attacks, Brief description of abuse, Awkwardness

Authors Note: This all started bc I thought too hard about how Lloyd never unearthed every man or woman Six ever slept with and I concluded that he's asexual (bc I say so lol). Then he joined the group of goose boys I also headcanon as ace and, well, this happened.

Title is from "It's Only Sex" by Car Seat Headrest bc Jesus Christ that song hits HARD

Shoutout to the Goosecord as always, especially @ken-f-cker and @hollandstrophyhusband for beta-reading!!

Six had jumped off of high rises and not even blinked. He’d gone undercover in every major mob without even a raise in his heart rate. Hell, he’d even gotten shot multiple times and only huffed in annoyance. But this? Knocking on the non-descript doors of a high school gym? It was enough to make him want to turn tail and run for the exit, memories of awkward teenage years and repressed childish fears nipping at his heels.

He steadies his heart by telling himself he’s doing this for Claire. As student body president, she was aware of the multiple support groups that used the school’s gym after hours and had insisted he join one.

(“Setting aside the fact that you desperately need someone to talk to in your life, it’s a good look for me if my Da- Guardian participates in school functions, even if it’s after hours.”

Claire stood with one hand on her hip, the other firmly shoved in Six’s face with a paper containing a list of social groups. He didn’t let his face show the flip-flop his heart does at her almost-slip-up.

“For the love of god, I’m not lonely , how many times are we going over this? I’m literally trained to be alone!”

“I’m tired of you brooding all over the house all the time, you need to go talk to other adults that aren’t the delivery guy or that old lady who runs the laundromat.”

“Claire it isn’t safe for me to be out in public, you know this. One slip up and Carmichael or his cronies come for us both”

“I’m not asking you to go on live television , Six, the groups are literally just in the school gym and you drop me off there every day anyways. You need to get a life.”

Eventually, he chose the Gender, Sexuality, and Alternative Lifestyles and Families Support Group. Lord knows his “family” certainly isn’t exactly typical.)

Six takes a deep breath,  then knocks on the door. The group starts in half an hour so the gym doors are closed still, but he wanted to get there early to do a complete surveillance check (can’t have any wannabe Lloyds finding Claire). He hears a Very excited voice from the other side of the door yell out.

 “Be right there!”

A second later the doors swing open to reveal possibly the most energetic man Six has ever met. This guy has platinum blonde hair, an outfit straight from Malibu, and a bigger grin than Six thought was physically possible. The man sticks out his hand for a handshake.

“Hi, I’m Ken! Are you here for GSALFS?”

Six blinks, then composes himself, shock from this man's exuberance still clinging to his nerves. The man in front of him - Ken - was definitely not a threat, but in Six’s history, when people had been excited to meet him, it usually spelled trouble. He grabs Ken's hand.

“Yes, I know I’m early, but I wanted to get here with time to fill out any forms if I needed to.”

He’s not fully lying, he knows he’ll have to join a sign-up sheet or something, but really he’s here early to carefully scan the entire interior of the gym; both to assess his safety at this meeting and Claire’s safety in general. Can never be too careful.

Ken nods his head and opens the doors wider to let Six in.

“Well, you’re in luck! We just set up the chairs so I’ll give you the forms now while we set up the food, that way you can grab a bite once you’re done!”

He beams as if this is the best news he’s ever announced. Six would be irritated if it wasn't so begrudgingly cute. They both walk in and Six takes the time to scan the room, noting entry points, hiding spots, anything that would be useful in an emergency. Ken quite literally bounces away, returning only a moment later with a clipboard and a pen. Six takes them, quirking an eyebrow at the feathery pink pen attached to the forms, and nods a thank you at Ken.

“If you have any questions about what to fill out just ask, most things are optional but the more details you fill out the better, it’ll help us group you with the right people!”

Six scans the form. There’s basic information, name, age, pronouns (don’t see that every day), how did you find out about the group, etc. He pauses briefly at “preferred name”. Six might not be his legal name, but then again legally he didn’t exist anymore. And “Courtland” felt wrong coming from people's mouths now. He just puts “Six” down as his preferred name and leaves the other line blank, hoping no one makes a fuss about it. 

He moves on. He has no emergency contact and almost scoffs at the “triggers to avoid” line. Like he would give anyone anything that could compromise him.

Then there’s the next part of the form. 

“What group would you like to join today? If unsure, here is a list describing each group”

Alternative Lifestyles and Families is explained first. Apparently, it means more “people in polyamorous relationships, people in the Kink/BDSM world, etc.” and less “on the run from the CIA and most other major government organizations with a newly acquired teenager who’s the niece of your now-deceased ex-handler”. Whoops.

Not wanting to waste the trip out (or risk Claire’s wrath), he looks at the other options.

Gender identity is irrelevant to him, he’s never questioned being a man, but Sexuality? Six pauses again.

He never had crushes as a kid, on girls OR boys, and he went to prison too early to have any sort of normal teen experimental phase. Sure, he’s hooked up with women (and occasionally men) while in training or between missions, but those were mostly due to peer pressure or simply stress relief. Does he… know his sexuality?

Ken must see his frozen confused face because he subtly hands him another form after glancing at where he’s stuck on the paper.

“If you’re unsure of where you fit in here, this might help clarify a few things.”

Six sheepishly takes the new form. It’s some sort of self-assessment, questions and answers that tally up to different identities. Skeptically, he fills it out.

“Who have you felt romantic attraction to in the past?” 

Mostly the same gender

Mostly the opposite gender

Both opposite and same gender

Neither opposite nor same gender

Six blinks. Romantic? Is that different from other attractions? And “Neither” is an option? He circles “D”

“Who have you felt sexual attraction to in the past?” 

Mostly the same gender

Mostly the opposite gender

Both opposite and same gender 

Neither opposite nor same gender

Six circles “D” again, more confident this time. He continues through the quiz and finally adds up the numbers. He has 2 results.

“Based on your results, you match best with Asexual . Asexuality is the lack of sexual attraction to others, or low or absent interest in or desire for sexual activity. It may also be categorized more widely, to include a broad spectrum of asexual sub-identities.”

And the second.

“Based on your results you match best with Aromantic. Aromanticism is a romantic orientation characterized by experiencing little to no romantic attraction.”

Six blinks. Then rereads the descriptions. That’s… a thing? He isn’t just broken or built wrong? The words slot into a place in his heart, filling a void he had ignored for so long he’d almost forgotten it was there. Asexual. Aromantic. There are words to describe who he is and an entire community around them. He suppresses this newfound sexuality crisis for later; right now he has to bare his soul to strangers or something.

He hands the forms back to Ken who’s still arranging the (extremely sugary) snacks. Ken looks over the forms and smiles widely.

“Well Hello Six! It’s nice to put a name to the face! And I’m glad the quiz helped clarify things for you. The Ace group could use a new face, they’re always so existential.”

Ken pulls a sticker pad from seemingly nowhere and hands it to Six.

“Here, put whatever you want to be called on this, and pick some pronoun stickers, however many you want. If you want to add any we don’t have, just write them down on the nametag!”

Six groans internally at the nametag. He’s not used to people readily being able to identify who he is. Part of being the Gray Man was being untraceable. But he shakes the thought out of his head. Those days are over (hopefully). Now he’s just a paren- guardian taking an interest in his child’s community. He takes a breath, steadying his resolve. He once flew a helicopter one-handed through a snowstorm while escaping Siberia. He can deal with talking about himself for a couple of hours.

He thanks Ken and writes down “Six” on the purple, black, gray, and white name tag, adding a “he/him” sticker to it. He hands them back to Ken who is now on the phone, talking animatedly to someone. (No way it’s with someone named Barbie. He must’ve misheard.)

He sticks the nametag on and picks a chair in the back of the room (close to the nearest exit, with plenty of improvisable weapons close by) to sit down on and watch everyone slowly trickle into the room. He takes note of all of them, assessing their appearance, demeanor, and threat level.

A blonde man in a white jacket and driving gloves, holding hands with both a blonde woman in a sundress and a Latino man with a shaved head and work clothes. The woman and shorter man greet Ken with a hug and lively words, but the blonde man just smiles at him,

A bleach blonde man in biker gear with tattoos peaking out wherever skin shows and a sad smile that hides the slight edge of danger Six senses from him. Six identifies several prison tats but doesn’t judge. He might even have matching ones. 

A brunette in a perfectly tailored suit and immaculate grooming who greets Ken with a kiss on both cheeks

Two women, one feminine and one masculine who enter in a heated debate but holding hands

A dirty blonde man in a suit who only stops humming some old jazz song to greet Ken

A thicker, nervous-looking man in a winter coat (why?) with a nicely trimmed mustache who doesn’t do the usual hug-greeting with Ken but still waves at him

A silent, almost vacant-faced man with an eyebrow slit, who refuses to make eye contact with anyone

Three people that Six honestly couldn’t tell if they were male or female (he chastises himself for thinking in binary terms in a group literally about gender diversity, but hey, it's habit)

Two men, one with a trashy mustache goatee combo and a cast, the other with a harsh face and slicked back hair, both looking like they stepped straight out of the ’70s

A greasy-looking kid with long hair falling over his face that must be old enough to join the (18+) group, but only barely

A model-gorgeous woman and younger-looking person who both are dressed like they stepped out of a catalog and who greet Ken with squeals of excitement and kisses before helping him with some last-minute preparations (must be the co-runners of the group)

A tall built man with blonde highlights and a goofy grin to counter the muscles Six can make out from under his tight t-shirt. Six would consider him the biggest threat in the room if not for how clumsy he seems and the last person to enter.

The last man is perfectly nondescript (as if on purpose), but Six can feel that he’s…different. Military haircut, scars peeking out of his long overcoat, perfect posture, perfectly neutral face, and most condemning, he's subtly scanning the room for threats. The same way Six had. Six tenses slightly, on edge but no alarm bells are going off in his head because this guy doesn’t give off any aggressive vibes. If anything he’s acting… submissively? He’s acting strange either way.

Done with his threat assessment he turns his attention back to Ken and the two others that have joined him at the front of the room. Ken claps his hands to gather attention, exuberant smile never wavering.

“Hello everyone, and Welcome to GSALFS! For our newcomers who aren’t familiar with how this works, on your entry form you indicated which group or groups would be best suited to your needs, and that’s who you’ll be talking to tonight. If you fit into multiple groups don’t worry! You can choose another one to join next week. Take a look at your nametag and sit in the circle with the flag that matches the colors. We try to stay on topic during discussions but encourage the conversation to flow naturally. Have fun!”

Six looks at his nametag colors and searches the room for the chair circle with the corresponding flag, smiling a bit when he sees that it’s towards the back of the gym, right next to an exit. He grabs a snack (giving in to his sweet tooth) and makes his way to the chair with the best view of the room. He sits and takes in the other people arriving. 

The man in the white jacket and gloves sits first and Six examines his expression further. He seems calm, if not a bit aloof, but Six can tell that underneath the boyish looks and gentle face, something is hiding. His name tag is… blank? Is that allowed? The man still has pronoun stickers (he/they), but instead of a name he just has a crude doodle of a car. The “car man” (or whatever his name is) nods his head as the next person sits. 

The second man has short, cropped hair, an eyebrow slit, and the build of a boxer. He has none of the swagger of a fighter though, instead moving slowly, as if in a dream. Unlike the man in the white jacket’s calm, composed expression, this man’s face is entirely blank. He doesn’t nod his head back in greeting, instead slowly raising a hand in a halted wave. His name tag reads “Julian” in scratchy handwriting and he also has a “he/him” sticker.

Six watches curiously as the two men start gesturing to each other in presumably sign language. Their hand movements are slow, but he can see the man in the jacket quirk up the corner of his lip, and the other man’s shoulders seem to untense a little as they communicate. They keep “conversing” and Six is desperately trying to remember the little ASL he knows when the third man approaches.

Six straightens up automatically. The military (?) man walks up and Six knows for a fact now that he’s not a civilian. The man walks with precision, every step calculated and efficient. Six is bigger than this man, but the tight shirt under his coat lets him know that this other guy is nothing but muscle. He can’t help himself (the CIA drilled situational awareness into the fiber of his being); he does a quick room scan. There are 3 major exits, 2 potential ambush spots, 23 potential weapons within a couple of steps, and 42 ways to defend himself (both lethally and non-lethally) if he needs to. The newest group member sits down with his hands resting perfectly on his thighs (huh, interesting) and Six takes the opportunity to read his nametag. 

“K”. That's it. Okay then. Not like Six can judge someone for not using their real name. K makes eye contact and Six, never one to back down from a challenge, locks his eyes right back at him. The other man isn't combative, but he isn’t backing down either. Six crosses his arms. K blinks, and a slight twitch of amusement flits across his lip, but his gaze never wavers. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Julian and Car Guy have stopped signing at each other and are waving at K, probably saying Hi. K waves back, eyes still fixed on Six, and Six could huff out of annoyance if the double doors don’t creak open at that exact minute.

 A slightly scrawny-looking blonde kid no older than 20 with a smarmy-looking grin slips in, presumably late to the meeting. Six darts his eyes toward the sudden movement, then immediately curses himself for seemingly backing down in front of a potential threat.

K smirks (granted, it’s not unkindly), and turns his head to greet the other two men in the circle. He signs something at Julian and Six quickly realizes he either will need someone to translate for him, or he needs to start taking ASL lessons if he wants to communicate in this group effectively. Thankfully, when K turns to Car Guy, he speaks aloud, breaking the silence that had settled over the group. His voice is soft, steady, and deliberate. As if he thought over each word individually before speaking.

“Did Standard or Irene draw that this time, Driver?” he asks, gesturing to the name tag with the car doodle on it. 

Was this guy’s name Driver? Ah well, again, not like Six could judge. His name is just a goddamn number.

Driver lets a shy smile creep onto their face.

“Benicio. He wanted to feel included.”

Julian finds this amusing, letting his facial features relax a bit. (Maybe he’s not deaf? Or he can lip read- but no, he hasn’t looked at anyone's face yet. Just mute?)

“Friend of yours draw that?” Six asks, trying to be friendly.

Driver’s smile lessens at his words and Six suspects he may be unwelcome in this apparently tight-knit group that’s formed.

“Kid, actually.”

“Oh, you have a kid?” 

He really is just trying to break the ice, he swears. But Six can see Driver’s jaw clench, his gloved fists tightening, and he realizes he chose the exact wrong thing to ask this man. Casually, he moves his arm towards his waistband, not liking the alarm bells this guy is setting off. K must notice what he’s doing, and, muscles tensing, he reaches for his waistband. Julian notices the energy shift as well, but he’s not poised to defend himself, instead, his head is hung low, and he’s slightly trembling. 

Six takes a breath and before he can dart for the exit, a shout cuts through the quiet gym, grabbing everyone’s attention.

“What the FUCK are YOU doing here?!”

He nearly draws and fires right then and there, but it’s immediately obvious the yelling isn’t directed at him.

The greasy, long-haired kid is standing right in the face of the blonde guy who slipped in late to the meeting. He has tears in his eyes as he pokes the chest of the shorter guy, who looks nervous but isn’t backing down. 

“You really think you can just show up here like nothing happened? How fucking stupid do you think I am , Richard?”

All eyes in the room are on the two men arguing. The tatted guy Six eyed earlier is glaring at Richard with his hand in his pocket, and Six can tell he’s fidgeting with some kind of knife. The mustached man in the winter coat looks close to tears himself, and the equally broad but muscular guy with highlights is gently soothing him. The two men in suits (one immaculately groomed and the other that had been humming Jazz) exchange glances, vaguely amused by whatever drama is being played out.

“You blocked me everywhere, how else was I supposed to talk to you?” Richard’s words are just as angry, but he slowly backs up as the taller man stalks towards him.

“Obviously you weren’t supposed to talk to me.”

Across from Six, K sighs, slumping back into his chair, while Driver rolls his eyes.

“Henry, come on, you’re overreacting, I never-”

“I’m OVERREACTING?!”

“Okay, let's all take a breath before we do anything we might regret,” Ken interjects, stepping between the two men and placing a (surprisingly muscular) arm on each of their chests to keep them apart. “That includes you, Luke”

The tatted man — Luke — scoffs but stops twirling his knife in his pocket.

“Now Richard” Ken starts, turning to the seething blonde, “you know you’re on probation from this group, let’s calm down and talk about this outside”.

Richard seems like he’s going to protest until the blonde woman who helped Ken earlier steps up. 

“Either you and Ken talk things out together outside or you and I can. Your choice.”

A flash of nervousness flits across Richard's face, but he grumbles out a “Fine” and lets Ken escort him out, muttering the whole way.

The tension in the room dissipates.

Six lets himself relax slightly, the brewing conflict between him and the other group members now forgotten in the chaos. K seems weary, Driver looks vaguely irritated, and Julian-

Julian is still frozen in place, trembling, eyes somehow more distant than before.

Six frowns.

“Is he OK?”

Driver’s face hardens again, but before Six can ready himself for the venom about to be spat in his direction, Driver turns to Julian and softens. He takes one of Julian's hands, squeezing softly before gently rubbing a gloved thumb over his skin.

Six isn’t an idiot (despite Claire’s insistence). 

He’s seen plenty of guys have panic attacks in prison or even full-on flashbacks during CIA training. For a moment he recalls the countless nights in his cell, unable to breathe from the crushing weight in his chest, he feels himself being restrained and berated by his commander for blacking out and mistaking an officer for the enemy because he beat him just like his dad would-

Six squeezes his eyes shut for a beat.

Inhales.

Exhales.

Not now. He can flashback all he wants later when he’s not in front of a bunch of strangers.

Distraction time.

He turns to K, who’s staring at Julian mournfully. He clears his throat.

“Ahem. So, uhhhh, what was that whole fight thing about? Richard and Henry, was it?”

K hesitates, but when he notices Six dart his eyes pointedly at Julian and Driver, pursing his lips, he nods almost imperceptibly and slowly opens his mouth to explain.

Good. If he is ex-military or whatever like Six suspects, he probably gets it too.

“Richard and Henry, yeah,” he sighs, sounding almost disappointed.

“They met at this high school and started dating in college. Henry has a history of… Issues.” 

(He’s trying to be gracious, Six can tell) 

“Richard exploited Henry’s, uh, instability , convincing him he'd never hurt him. Then Richard’s best friend lets Henry know Richard’s been cheating on him the entire time with him and even sends him a videotape of it. Apparently, Richard secretly records all his ‘conquests’.”

K’s lip curls in disgust.

“Anyways, Henry was shattered, and word got back to Barbie, Ken, and Allan. I’ve never seen them so angry before; Ken had to calm them down before Allan got into another fight they couldn’t win, or before Barbie eviscerated him.” K smirks.

Allan must be the other person running the group, but then — 

“Wait, hang on, they’re actually Barbie and Ken? Are those just stage-names or…?”

K smirks again and Six can hear Driver huff out what could be a laugh next to him.

“Yeah, everyone has that realization once they join. I swear those are their real names. Apparently, they were raised together too?” K shrugs.

“Huh, wild. But yeah, that Richard kid seems like an asshole.”

K chuckles and Driver lets out another huff of laughter. Julian exhales an almost-giggle and signs something that makes Driver honest-to-god snort , while K has to put a hand over his mouth to cover his slowly widening grin.

Six’s grin falters a bit, wishing once again he had paid better attention to his ASL lessons during training.

“Sorry. I, uh, I don’t know signs all that well,” he admits, flushing with embarrassment.

Julian just nods and before any other group members can interpret for him, he opens his mouth and translates for himself in a cracked voice:

“Bitchard.”

Driver snorts again, hiding his head in his shoulder.

“He’s not wrong.” K smiles.

Six takes a breath. Biting the bullet (heh), he extends his hand out to K for a handshake.

“We got off on the wrong foot. I’m Six.” 

K takes his hand. His grip is strong but not too tight, the kind of handshake businessmen swoon over. 

“K,” he replies.

He elbows Driver slightly, who nudges him back, as if irritated, but he still turns toward Six. He hesitates, then sticks out his gloved hand. Six takes it, more gently, and is surprised that his grip is almost as strong as K’s. Driver’s shoulders tense, but he relaxes them and flashes Six a small smile.

“Nice to meet you”

He doesn’t introduce himself, but K calls him Driver and he responds, so that’s what Six’ll stick with.

Julian doesn’t extend a hand, but he does bring his head up to look at Six’s face. No eye contact, but Six is just flattered the man trusts him enough to even just look at him. He doesn’t say anything but nods his head in greeting. Six nods back, smiling.

Maybe Claire was right. It was nice to feel like he belonged.

[fleursial]

[hello-there]

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[webbo0artblog]

Silly little doodle of Julian and @frecklystars bc 1. They're Adorable and 2. I can't get him out of my head AUGH

Anyways ignore how sketchy and rushed this is (it's Very late at night lol)

[evilkennedy]

Hi tumblr! Another rp ad because I’m going insane, feel free to message me on here or on discord if you’re interested! Here’s what I’m looking for:

Literacy: semi-lit to lit, a few paragraphs per reply.

Fandom: Ryan Gosling’s Filmography(?)

Pair: I’m down for anything really. OCs, canon ships, self insert stuff.

Characters: I’d like to write against these characters as myself OR as these characters against canon or otherwise. (Both is perfect if you have a self insert or oc you’d like to use too!)

Henry Letham (Stay, 2005), Holland March (The Nice Guys), Sierra Six, (The Gray Man) Noah Calhoun (The Notebook), Colt Seavers (The Fall Guy), Luke Glanton (The Place Beyond the Pines), Ken (Barbie)

Ship(s): Holland March x Jackson Healy, Barbie x Ken. I’m down for OC stuff and s/i stuff if you’re willing to double and write for me also.

Triggers: Nothing much, tbh.

Genres: hurt/comfort, whump, fluff, angst, etc.

Plot ideas: sooooo many, feel free to reach out to discuss anything! I especially love whumping characters and/or sickfics,,, giggles

Where: Discord! sunflowerdany

Since I also have my Etsy, which you can find here : https://sunnydarts.etsy.com

I may be more responsive on weekends! My commissions for fanfiction are also still open. (2 slots)

https://sunnydarts.etsy.com

[ken-dom]

∘₊✧ Ryan Gosling ✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Masterlist ✧₊∘

All works are x reader unless otherwise stated - interships are highlighted by character names in blue

I don’t take requests in the traditional sense, but I’m always up for talking about my faves and sometimes it inspires a fic!

Don’t be afraid to ask if you want to see more of a certain character, it’s good for me to know and I’ll try my best!

Relevant warnings are included in the individual fic posts

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

KEN ✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Ken blurbs, imagines, scenarios etc.

Fluff ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Comfort headcanons

∘₊✧ Lavender Ken worries he’s not good enough (includes original artwork)

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ NSFW headcanons

∘₊✧ Sex On The Beach Ken learns about the cocktail and gets curious

∘₊✧ Ken After Dark Ken has a dirty secret that you’ll only discover if you skip girls night (includes original artwork)

∘₊✧ Ken’s Glitter Ken’s stuff ✧₊∘ is not like other humans

∘₊✧ Ken’s First Orgasm Exactly what it says on the tin!

∘₊✧ Ken Can't Do Flips But He Sure Can Strip Ken wants to put on a little show for you

∘₊✧ Pretty Doll (Lars Lindstrom x Ken) Lars has a new doll

∘₊✧ It's Crazy How I Need Your Friction (Driver x Ken) Driver leaves a gift for Ken

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

DRIVER ✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Driver blurbs, imagines, scenarios etc.

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Kiss Driver has been fantasising about kissing you so much that when you do, it’s overwhelming

∘₊✧ Gloves Driver keeps his gloves on for you

∘₊✧ Lips You give Driver a blowjob

∘₊✧ Short Stories: Driver Three stories shipping Driver with Julian Thompson, Luke Glanton and Lars Lindstrom

∘₊✧ Bite My Lip ‘Til You Break It solo Driver, kissing kink

∘₊✧ It's Crazy How I Need Your Friction (Driver x Ken) Driver leaves a gift for Ken

∘₊✧ Everything Looks Better When The Sun Goes Down Driver gets hard from a car chase (and breaks into your house)

∘₊✧ Might Wanna Kiss Before The End of This Song You like Driver riled up, so you push him

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

HENRY LETHAM ✧₊∘

Fluff ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Your Voice Henry thinks he recognises you and finds comfort in your kiss

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Make You Worse you encourage Henry to be what he considers his worst

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

HOLLAND MARCH ✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Holland March blurbs, imagines, scenarios etc.

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ NSFW alphabet

∘₊✧ A Long Time Holland wants you, but he's scared to move on

∘₊✧ A Nice House (With Nice Carpets) You mess up the carpet in Holland’s nice house

∘₊✧ Did I Dream That? Holland had a great time last night. You were amazing, apparently.

∘₊✧ Perfect Match Holland’s first time in a long time

∘₊✧ Cumming For Days Holland wants you filled to the brim with him

∘₊✧ I Can Fix Him Holland can’t perform when he’s wasted (part of a triple threat with @hollandstrophyhusband and @webbo0 — fics linked in post)

∘₊✧ Interview With The Mermaid Holland gets curious about mermaid anatomy

∘₊✧ One More Night Holland’s horny while you’re away

∘₊✧ Did You Get It? Holland gets horny in the middle of the day. And Healy is waiting right outside

∘₊✧ Forever (Holland March x Jackson Healy) Healy is amused with how much cum Holland can produce

∘₊✧ Dare To Dream (Holland March x Jackson Healy) There’s only one bed! And oops… Holland has a wet dream

∘₊✧ A Few Things About Holland You blindfold Holland

∘₊✧ Accidental Innuendo (Holland March x Jackson Healy) Holland needs to jerk off. Right. Now.

∘₊✧ March Magic Three times Holland couldn’t get it up and one time he did

Angst ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Come Back To Me Nightmare or dream? Why not both. (part one of a two part series with @heresthestorymorningglory — fic linked in post)

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

LARS LINDSTROM ✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Lars photo collection series

∘₊✧ Lars blurbs, imagines, scenarios, etc.

Fluff ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ K-I-S-S Scrabble night ends with a flustered Lars

∘₊✧ Home Lars has a question for you (includes art)

∘₊✧ Signs Of A Lifetime Lars’s first New Years Eve

∘₊✧ My Body’s A Zombie Lars sings to you (includes art)

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Thank You Lars’s first time

∘₊✧ Possession Lars needs to know you belong to him

∘₊✧ Prioritise Pleasure Lars is nervous about cumming

∘₊✧ Part 2 Lars wants to return the favour

∘₊✧ Pretty Doll (Lars Lindstrom x Ken) Lars has a new doll

∘₊✧ Training Wheels Lars is such a dirty boy, getting hard for you at a party. Only one thing for it: bathroom hand job

∘₊✧ What’s Left In Me (Lars Lindstrom x Bianca) Lars needs Bianca to know she’s his

∘₊✧ Riding Lars Lindstrom’s Thick Thighs Exactly what it says on the tin!

∘₊✧ Wake Up To Me Every Morning Lars gets a taste for you

∘₊✧ Lars and sexual desire thoughts and an imagine about Lars’s sexiness

∘₊✧ Thoughts on eating Lars’s pussy

∘₊✧ Lingered Lips you move in next door. Lars helps you settle in (and warm up)

∘₊✧ Lay With Me, I'll Lay With You (afab!Lars) Lars follows your directions when he’s desperately turned on but can’t take any more touching

∘₊✧ I Guess I’m Already There Lars has a wet dream

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

SIERRA SIX ✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Sierra Six blurbs, imagines, scenarios etc.

Fluff ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Alone Together you share a carnival date with Six

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Aftercare headcanons

∘₊✧ Sense drabble - Six can sense what you want

∘₊✧ Just Another Wednesday Six surprises you after a long day

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

STEVEN WINGDINGS ✧₊∘

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Keyboard Smash Steven is not pleased with the font you’ve used. Until you find one he really likes

∘₊✧ Keyboard Caress Steven makes peace with Papyrus

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

JULIAN THOMPSON ✧₊∘

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Touch Julian needs to learn he’s worthy of being touched

∘₊✧ Comfort Hurt/comfort and smut with Julian after the fight

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

OFFICER K ✧₊∘

∘₊✧ K blurbs, imagines, scenarios etc.

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Take Me Home A sleepy morning with K

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

NOAH CALHOUN ✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Noah blurbs, imagines, scenarios etc.

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

SEBASTIAN WILDER ✧₊∘

Fluff ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Dreams post-canon comfort drabble

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Midnight Thoughts (Sebastian Wilder x Jacob Palmer) sexting

∘₊✧ All of Your Flaws are Aligned with This Mood of Mine Seb goes too far during an argument

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

LUKE GLANTON ✧₊∘

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ I've Got You On My Lips Luke gifts you lipstick. It's for you, and for him

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

COLT SEAVERS ✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Colt blurbs, imagines, scenarios etc.

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ I’ll Do Anything You Say If You Say It With Your Hands Long hair Colt + praise + overstimulation

∘₊✧ Stay Quiet, Stay Near, Stay Close You help Colt unwind with a hot bath and a massage

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

RYLAND GRACE ✧₊∘

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ The Stars Look Very Different Today Ryland is relieved to carry out a new command from the computer

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

JACOB PALMER ✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Jacob blurbs, imagines, scenarios etc.

NSFW ────────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Midnight Thoughts (Sebastian Wilder x Jacob Palmer) sexting

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

[jhermes]

First Julian edit from a while ago

[hello-there]

Communities are a new way to connect with the people on Tumblr who care about the things you care about! Browse Communities to find the perfect one for your interests or create a new one and invite your friends and mutuals!

[drivinmeinsane]

Holiday Party ※ 12 Days of Goosemas

Day Five ※ Julian Thompson / Reader

{12 Days of Goosemas Masterlist} ※ {Regular Masterlist} ※ {ao3}

※ Summary: Julian's brother always hosts the worst parties. This one is no different.

※ Rating: 18+ for explicit mature content.

※ Content/Tags: Pre-Canon, Questionable Relationship Dynamics, AFAB!Reader, Prostitution, Fingering, Erectile Dysfunction, Canon-typical Bullying/Harassment

※ Word count: 1449

※ Status: Oneshot/Complete

Mirrors make it impossible to hide. Even now, as you pull your dress up over your chest, you can see Julian reflected behind you. Your employer is seated with his hands firmly gripping the armrests as though he might be tempted to do something else if he were not hanging on so tightly that the skin is bleached white over his knuckles. He’s been having to restrain himself more and more frequently. Lately, he has been having you blindfold him in addition to tying him into place, leaving him to bite his lips bloody at the sounds of you pleasuring yourself. 

The dress that he had mutely requested you wear for tonight is scandalously short. It barely covers your crotch, the entirety of your legs are on display. Despite its revealing nature, it fits the kind of party that you will be attending with Julian tonight. His ever generous brother has decided he is going to host a holiday party to “give Thailand a taste of real American culture”. It’s a thinly veiled excuse to host a sex party. Billy makes your skin crawl and the way he treats Julian is appalling. 

You’re putting the finishing touches on your hair when you catch movement in the mirror. Julian has stood up and is approaching you while he fishes a small box out of his pocket. He opens it and tosses the empty box aside once he has retrieved the object from inside. It’s a necklace. He brings it over your head and you bare your throat to him so he can drape it over the column of your neck. You then tip your chin down. His fingers make the barest contact with the skin at your nape.

“Zip me up?” You ask him quietly.

He finds the zipper nestled in the small of your back. Over your shoulder, you watch the way he lingers. He closes his eyes and makes a motion as though he was going to kiss the side of your neck or your exposed shoulder. He refrains, his knuckles drag up your spine as he slowly works the zipper of your dress closed. Julian hooks the small latch and steps back, looking pained. You let out the breath that you’ve been holding and resist the urge to bridge the growing gap between the two of you. 

Before you head out the door to the venue, Julian offers you a suit jacket, his own, and you slip it on over your shoulders for warmth. The only sounds on the walk through the streets are the distant rumbles of the occasional car, the clack of your heels on the pavement, and the softly rustling fabric of your clothes. Your employer doesn’t speak during the journey, he rarely does anyway. You can understand why. 

You know that Billy and his groupies will have some kind of complaint prepared the minute they lay eyes on the man at your side. They always do. Little Julian just isn’t good enough. He doesn’t have a big enough dick, doesn’t fuck as well as his brother, isn’t mean enough, isn’t perverted enough. He’s too quiet, too loud. Why don’t you talk, Julian? Why don’t you ever shut up, Julian? Why don’t you just kill yourself, Julian? It doesn’t matter what he does. He exists and that is a crime worth punishment on its own.

The party goes as predicted. The men initially try to paw at you because you belong to Julian. They end up being bitterly disappointed because you don’t seem to care about the man who has bought your time, and he does not seem to pay you any special attention either. If neither of you care, there is no fun in using your relationship as another way to torment Julian. 

Smoke hangs heavy in the air as the guests begin to take seats for the night amongst the gaudy decorations. Their chosen company drapes their bodies over them, teasing and touching if not borderline fucking right there in plain sight. A few of the men go to the stage and obnoxiously start belting out Christmas songs in a mixture of Thai and broken English. 

Julian sits down with some sort of festively garnished Old Fashioned in a glass. You take a seat on his lap. He tenses. You pay it no mind and catch his free hand, putting his arm around you and nestling against his side. He needs comfort even if he would never admit it. You've gotten good at knowing what your employer needs and how much of it you can give to him before he withdraws. One by one, the other men start to trickle out of the party hall with their purchased company.

“Merry Christmas, brother.” Julian’s sibling says to him with a sneer as he takes his own leave. “Shame your dick doesn't work or that pretty thing on your lap might actually get some action for once.”

Billy departs, a pair concerningly young girls with him, leaving you and Julian alone. The man’s hand is warm against your side, and you feel the occasional tremor run though him. You desperately want to tell Julian that his brother is a scum of the Earth asshole whose opinion doesn’t matter, but you don’t. Your employer is unwaveringly loyal to his family outwardly despite whatever he might believe privately in the less beat-down parts of his mind. 

Pushing the boundaries tonight, you decide to make him feel as though he is needed. You’ve come to genuinely care about the man. You press your face against the side of his neck, feeling the jump of his throat, the uptick in his pulse. You want to mouth at the sensitive skin, but you don’t. It would be too much for him. The two of you rest there and breathe for a moment, letting Julian’s pulse come down.

On his own accord, the hand not resting on your side moves to cover one of your exposed knees. It lingers for a while before he slowly starts easing it up and over the curve of your thigh. His fingertips reach the hem of your dress and pause there. You spread your legs in silent encouragement, the motion hikes the material up higher. He takes the hint and continues. His thumb comes to rest at the inside of your thigh, barely avoiding the juncture of your legs. You nod against his neck and his fingers hook over the waistband of your underwear. In one smooth movement, he pulls them down and off before his hand returns to its previous home. You take it in yours and insistently press it against yourself, letting him cup the shape of you in his palm, letting him feel the wetness of you against his skin. 

His fingers dive between your lips and you have to stifle a moan against his neck. Encouraged, his fingers gather slickness up at your entrance and glide over your clit. He circles it and your body twitches and flexes under his touch. You’re dripping, the tissue becoming engorged as Julian primes you to fuck you with his fingers. He slips two of them into your body, his pointer and his middle. He pumps them inside, shallow thrusts with a slight crook to them on each outward drag. His thumb finds your clit and steadily rubs against it. 

In response, you grab at his shoulder with your left hand, squeezing down tightly enough that he lets out a small, pleased grunt. You’re rewarded with an uptick in speed, your cunt clenches around his fingers. The sounds filling the empty room are obscenely wet.

A firm press to your swollen clit and the grind of his thick fingers inside of you is what sends you over the edge. Your thighs clamp down around his wrist and he works you through your orgasm. You muffle your moans against his neck, daring to kiss it with frantic scrapes of your teeth and needy lips. The hand on your waist tightens warningly but he doesn’t stop you. He’s shuddering right along with you, his legs trembling. You know he’s come soft, untouched in his dress pants. 

Julian pulls his hand free, you reflexively clench around nothing. He puts his fingers in his mouth to suck them clean, tasting you, before tugging the hem of your dress back down to a barely more modest length. He makes no effort to push you off of him, and you make no movements to vacate. The two of you simply exist in this false wonderland. You’re just as out of place as the presence of the festive decorations in this room. There is no point in fighting your shared fate.