In The Common Room Of Stark Tower:

𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯.

👀unhinged just like I like my fictional men

Hold You Tight: Part 1

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Series Masterlist | Part 2

Chapter Summary: You encounter an unexpected visitor in your home.

Chapter Word Count: Over 2.8k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, breaking and entering, stalking, coercion, threats (not against reader), creepy and unhinged behavior, flashback, possessiveness, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: Welcome to the Turn It Up AU! Thanks to @starlightcrystalline for helping bringing this unhinged Bucky to life and @targaryenvampireslayer and @tavners for the support. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You yawned as you flipped on the light switch in your apartment and set the keys on the table. It was early, but you were ready to settle in for the night after a busy shift. Maybe you could make a cup of tea and curl up with a book to unwind after dinner. Or maybe even a nice, hot bath and a glass of wine.

If only Addison could hear your thoughts now. She’d tease you for not living it up and enjoying the single life. Nothing new.

Your mouth fell open as you walked into the living room, but no sound came out as you skidded to a stop. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest and plummeted to your stomach at the same time as your phone fell from your hand. It was like you couldn't breathe. Because a man was sitting on your sofa.

And you lived alone.

“What…” you exhaled, no louder than a whisper.

The man didn't speak as he stared at you. He didn't even blink. The staring contest gave you a moment to take in his appearance. Intimidating even though he was sitting, his dark suit looked tailored to perfection on his broad frame. Dark brown hair framed his face and matched the stubble on his face, with the exception of a few gray hairs. The dangerous glint in his hard blue eyes did little to put you at ease, but there was something soft there as well.

In any other circumstance, you would've said he was handsome.

You bent down to pick up your phone before he let out a tsk, a subtle warning for you not to try anything. “Who are you? Why are you in my home?” You asked as you straightened up, hoping your tone didn't betray how terrified you were.

Nothing looked out of place. If he was there to rob you, there wasn't much worth taking. While you weren't struggling, you were far from rich.

He smirked and leaned back further into the cushion, his eyes roving over your body. You hadn't noticed right away, but the hand draped on the back of the sofa appeared to be metal. Or was it a glove? He didn't have to stand for you to know he was larger than you. If things got physical, you wouldn't stand a chance.

“Okay…” If he wasn't going to give you any sort of answer or clue as to who he was or why he was there, you’d just leave. You could go to a neighbor’s place or Addison’s to call the cops. But he didn't seem to like it when you took a step back since he pinned you with a glare and crooked his finger, beckoning you to go to him.

Your legs wobbled with the first step, but you righted yourself as you continued to move forward. If he noticed your misstep, he didn't acknowledge it. You swallowed, worried that bile would rise to your throat from how sick you felt when you stopped in front of him. That feeling only grew when he leaned in to grip your waist and roughly pulled you toward him.

A scream escaped this time around, but his hand clamped over your mouth to smother the sound. The cold fear that trickled down your spine would stick with you for days to come as he pulled you onto his lap and shook his head with another tsk. There was no mistaking the evident lust in his gaze as his eyes bore into yours.

What was he going to do to you?

You put your hands on his shoulders to push yourself away, but the hand on your hip held you tighter. You squirmed in his lap before you brushed against the outline of his cock, your body stiffening when he let out a low groan. With wide eyes, you decided moving wasn't a wise decision.

“Keep moving your hips if you want, but don't scream again,” he warned, his deep voice rumbling from his chest as you breathed through your nose. “There’s time for that later.”

Blood rushed to your ears as your heart pounded faster. You wished you could've stopped the tears from filling your eyes, but you weren't that strong. Was he going to hurt you? Kill you? If so, why?

The brunette cooed as a tear slid down your cheek. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? But I will gag you if I remove my hand and you scream again,” he promised, his tone lighter than a moment ago. “Blink once if you promise not to scream.”

You blinked, another tear falling from your eye.

A pleased look crossed his face when he removed his hand and you complied. “Good girl,” he whispered and you ignored the new kind of shiver that rolled down your spine. “I didn't mean to startle you, but I couldn't wait any longer to see you.”

You exhaled as he used his thumb to wipe the tears away, your body still stiff as you focused on trying to stay calm. Couldn't wait to see you? You had never seen this man before in your life. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“My name is Bucky Barnes. And don't worry. I already know your name.” He smirked as he rested his hand on your cheek. You managed not to flinch at his calloused touch. “Did you have fun at my club?”

Confusion flickered in your gaze. “What?”

“My club, The 107th. I own it. Did you have fun?” He asked again, looking at you expectantly.

The 107th was the most luxurious and expensive nightclub in the city. Chic and glamorous in design with a friendly staff who waited on people hand and foot, you felt like royalty as you hung out in the VIP section. The upscale venue wasn't one you frequented often. In fact, you had only been once.

For Addison’s bachelorette party.

“Y-Yeah,” you replied, still confused as to what he wanted. “It’s a nice club.”

He hummed, his thumb brushing across your trembling lip. “I’m glad to hear it, but you didn't seem to have as much ‘fun’ as your friends. Did you?”

You nursed your drink as you gazed out at the dancefloor from your seat. The place was packed, the strobe lights flashing over the crowd in various hues as they grinded to the beat. You adjusted the hem of your short black dress as you debated going out to dance. You decided against it since you weren't looking to hook up.

“Come on! Another shot!” Addison yelled, adjusting her tiara on her head. She was lucky the “bride to be” sash was still on straight. “Shot, shot, sh-sh-sh-shot!”

You giggled as she plopped down beside you. “I did a shot. I'm fine,” you hollered back.

Your best friend grumbled something you couldn't make out as she put her head on your shoulder. “But you aren't even driving.”

“I don't want to deal with a hangover tomorrow,” you argued, thanking the server as she brought another bottle.

“Ugh. If you won't drink, at least get laid,” Addison whined a little. “You're wearing a slutty black dress and everything.”

You looked around at the group. Addison was the only one in white since she was the bride. Everyone else wore black. They looked great, but you weren't dressed to get any sort of attention.

“Yeah! Get fucked!” Dana shouted.

“Is that encouragement or an insult?” You teased, glancing at the small blinking light in the corner of the VIP section. You didn't notice it before.

“Raise your hand if you think our girl should get laid!” Addison announced, raising her hand high and spilling some of her drink on the seat. “Whoops.”

The group raised their hands as you attempted to clean up the small mess. “I’m not hooking up with anyone tonight,” you said to their disappointment. “This night isn't about me and my love life.”

“Your love life? Babe, it doesn't exist!” Addison grabbed your left hand and held it up to stare at your bare ring finger. “I don't get it. You're the only one not engaged or married yet. And you're, like, the sweetest one in our group. And you're so pretty! It’s not fair that you don't have a man. You deserve one.”

“And sex!” Dana chimed in. “You deserve lots of sex!”

You gently pulled your hand away and pushed down the sadness that surfaced at the reminder that you were the only single one left of your friends. You didn't know why you hadn't met the right one yet. It wasn't like your standards were too high and you were a good, loyal partner. You wouldn't say you were supermodel gorgeous, but you were pretty. You knew how to have a good time.

Right?

Addison's lip wobbled when she saw the look on your face. “Hey, hey, hey. I’m sorry. I didn't mean anything by it,” she rambled, hugging you from the side. “I just want you to have what Brady and I have. I want someone to love you.”

Guilt crept in before you shook your head and flashed your best smile. You know she wasn't trying to make you feel bad and you didn't want to ruin her night. “And one day, I will. Someone will love me the way Brady loves you and I’ll love him, too,” you assured her, giving the other girls a shrug and wishing they'd stop with the pitying stares. “Shots?”

“Shots!”

Your eyes briefly went back to the blinking light before you put a small smile back on your face. Addison was having fun and that was what mattered. You could worry about yourself and your feelings tomorrow.

“I’m sorry, but did my friends and I do something wrong?” You asked, dodging his question. You booked and paid for the section well in advance. Your group danced around in the area, and behaved overall and kept to yourselves. The server got a nice tip at the end of the night.

So what was the matter?

“Not at all,” he said, tilting his head. “I’m just sorry I couldn't introduce myself to you that night.”

“I don't understand. You broke into my home just so you could introduce yourself to me?” You asked as he traced small circles on your hips, the motion making your head spin a little. “How do you even know where I live?”

He chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, before he got serious again. “I have my ways. And I can be a little intense and forward at times, but you’ll get used to it,” he said, your eyes wide again. What was wrong with this man?

“Okay, Bucky,” you said slowly, seeing something wicked flash in his eyes when you said his name. “Being intense and forward doesn't excuse breaking into my home. And since my friends and I didn't do anything wrong at your club and you formally introduced yourself, I think it's time for you to leave.”

A second passed before he shook his head. “No, doll. It’s time for you to get the love life and man you deserve.”

Fingers brushed your throat as you struggled to take your next breath. “What did you say?”

“I'm going to take you out to dinner tomorrow so you can get to know me and you’re going to wear the dress I bought for you,” he explained as if he didn't hear you, nodding toward the hall. “It’s waiting for you in your bedroom and, yes, it’s your size.”

How did this man have the nerve and how long had he been in your place? “You went into my room? You-”

“And I bought you that perfume you recently ran out of. I know how much you love it. I know everything about you,” he continued, running his nose along your neck as your blood ran cold. “Oh, we’re going to have so much fun together.”

You moved back, desperate to get away as your stomach twisted. He didn't let you get far, easily yanking you close again. How did he know anything about you? How did you catch his eye?

The blinking light in the corner of the VIP section …

“And if I say no?”

Bucky pulled back, his eyes calculating as he studied you. “I’m not going to force you into going out with me. It’s your choice to say yes or no, but I want you to think carefully about that choice.”

Dread pooled in your gut. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I obviously know where you live and I can get in and out undetected,” he pointed out. You wondered now if this was the first time he had been in your place. “I also know where your friend Addison and her fiancé, Brady, live.”

A wounded sound escaped at the thought of anything happening to your friends. “Please, leave them alone.”

“And the shop you work at, I know where it’s located. Those floral arrangements you make are stunning. Your boss even gave you a raise recently. You should be proud,” he smiled.

Your eyes watered again. The man was certifiably insane. Maybe this was a sick joke or a bad dream. Soon you'd wake up in your bed.

But the iron grip on your body reminded you that this was very real.

He waved a hand dismissively. “But we both know you’ll make the right choice because you're a good girl… a smart girl,” he said like he hadn't just threatened your friends or livelihood. “Just take the night to think it over. Have a glass of wine and draw yourself a nice bath while you do.”

He surprised you by moving you from his lap to the sofa. His hands and eyes lingered on you momentarily before he released you and stood up. Towering over you, he gave you a tender smile as he buttoned his jacket.

“I’m going to lock the door behind me when I leave and I’ll be back tomorrow at 7pm so you can give me your answer. And if you try and tell anyone I was here tonight, I’ll know about it,” he said, grasping your chin when you tried to look away. “It’s taking all of my control not to drag you to bed, but I can wait a little longer.”

Fear prickled the back of your neck as you tensed up. “You couldn't just ask me out like a normal person?”

You almost regretted asking when he narrowed his eyes, but he huffed out a laugh. “Where's the fun in that?” He winked as you shrank back in your seat. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I won't hurt you. And you know what? I just thought of something. You still need a plus one for the wedding. I’m free. I’ll get a suit to match your bridesmaids’ dress. We’ll look perfect together. And Addison will be so happy that you aren't going alone.”

His tone was light and happy like it was a suggestion and not an order, but the ferocity in his gaze had you trembling. “Why are you doing this?” You asked above a whisper.

“Because I want you and I get what I want,” he said as a matter of fact, releasing your chin. “Like I said, it's time for you to get the love you deserve. And I know you'll give it to me in return.”

It was like your spirit floated out of your body as he bent down to kiss your forehead. You couldn't move or speak. Was this what shock felt like? Or was it complete and utter fear?

You stared ahead as he picked up your phone and unlocked it with your passcode. He knew that, too? “Can’t leave without giving you my phone number,” he smiled, putting his information in before he set the device down. You didn't respond. Once he was gone you could scream and cry. But you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of breaking down in front of him. “I’ll be back tomorrow night, 7pm. Get some rest. You'll need it.”

Even as he left you alone and locked the door behind him as promised, you didn't move from your spot as tears streamed down your cheeks. You didn't dare go to your bedroom to see the gifts he left for you, your hand shaking as you wiped at your face. The scent of his cologne lingered, as did his touch. It was like his shadow covered you, leaving you cold and afraid. Your home was no longer safe.

You weren't safe.

With his subtle threat looming over your head, you’d have no choice but to go out with him. Maybe he’d get bored of you quickly and move on. Or maybe not. You had no way of knowing. All you knew was that your average life was upheaved by the owner of The 107th.

And you were going to be his girl whether you liked it or not.

Bucky isn't wasting time. Where is he taking you on your first date? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

Awn, good for reader for standing up for herself

Would love to read a continuation with Clark 💜

Mini skirt

Holacia Note: This started as an idea from the song Minifalda but spiraled out of control and this is what I got 🤷‍♀️

Summary: You and your friends head out for drinks and dancing when you run into your stupid ex-boyfriend. 

Ransom Drysdale x reader

Word Count: ~860

Warnings: history of unhealthy relationship, drinking, lady sticking up for herself. Remember to never drink and drive! Surprise cameo 

Tag List: @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @thiskindahotkindamusic​

Continuar a ler

Evgeni Tcherkasski

Rioting is happening in philadelphia for Walter Wallace. He was shot 10+ times by police while his mother stood by and begged them not to shoot. Witnesses say he had a knife but he was not near police nor was he coming near them. There was no attempt to de-escalate the situation before he was murdered.

Police have lost control of the city, and at least 12 police are in the hospital after altercations with protesters.

No one is talking about the situation. It is not trending. There is barely any media coverage for the situation, all information I have received has come straight from people living in Philly.

Raise awareness, look into the situation, speak up. Philly is in the midst of a revolution and we are hearing nothing about it.

I'm 21 but can I tag along?

This is adorable, I love them!

Downshift

Pairing: Motocross!Ari Levinson x Female Reader Summary: Ari thinks you're too good for his neighbor and he's, sadly, proven right. Word Count: Over 2.2k Warnings: Pining, hurt/comfort, some angst, fluff and feels, cheating (not by Ari), swearing, motocross!Ari Levinson (he’s a warning, okay? A/N: Meet Beast and Sweetart! Set in the same AU as Starting Gate and Lapper. Should I start making Wednesdays a dedicated motocross day? Beta read by the beautiful @maladaptivexxdaydreaming, but any and all mistakes are my own. Banners by the talented @maysdigitalarts. Shoutout to my lovely for helping with the reader's nickname (I can't tag you. BOO!). Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!

Ari Levinson is a beast. One of the largest and toughest riders in his class at 6'5", combined with his dark beard, shaggy hair and rough exterior, he received the nickname in passing and it stuck. If you asked any of his exes, he was a beast on and off the tracks. He didn’t mind. There were worse names out there. 

Most riders weren’t easy to intimidate, but not many wanted to go toe-to-toe with him. Others in town tended to stay out of his way, too, when he wasn’t smiling. Jensen teased that people probably expected him to growl. He could admittedly be an asshole when the occasion called for it, but he was a good guy. 

A beast with a heart.

One of the only people he could remember in a long time who never seemed put off by him was you.

Someone “taking his breath away” seemed like complete bullshit until you showed up. When you looked his way the first time, you flashed him a kind smile and wave. You looked sweet, making him want to devour you to see if you tasted the same. Arousal spread from his gut and you hadn’t touched him.

I could eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner and it wouldn’t be enough.

Your eyes caught his attention next. The sincerity and warmth weren’t anything like the pit lizards who threw themselves at him. He stared and hoped his blue eyes reflected a resemblance of kindness. He didn’t want to scare you off. He wanted to ruin and keep you safe.

It didn’t matter what he did.

You were dating his asshole neighbor, Carter.

It didn’t make sense to fall for someone so quickly, but it hurt each time he saw you go into or leave Carter’s place. Especially when you smiled his way or stopped to chat for a few minutes. Your boyfriend was always quick to pull you away with a cocky smirk or a smart-ass comment, which prompted you to tell him to be nice and mouth “sorry” back in his direction.

Why are you with him?

From what he knew about the guy, he came from money and traveled a lot. Even his dressed down clothes were name brand. He gambled occasionally, but Ari never saw him at the track. Maybe it had something to do with keeping you away from the riders. He never liked the prick, but seeing a sweet girl like you with him put him on his permanent shit list, along with how he treated you. Like you were an object or a doll for him to play with.

There was a difference between being somewhat possessive and treating someone like a possession.

Doing his best not to take his frustration out on his bike, he still couldn’t figure out why you were with him in the first place. You didn’t seem like the materialistic type and you were kind to everyone. Were you settling? He wanted to grumble so many times that you were too good for him, but he would’ve sounded crazy since the two of you only spoke a few times in passing.

It wasn’t like Ari to sit back and watch something good pass by. He knew from racing what happened if you let opportunities slip away. Even if he was selfish in wanting you, was it really his place to ruin your happiness? It wasn't meant for him to interfere.

Looking back, maybe he should have.

The knock on his door pulled him from his slumber, groaning as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. After work and practice, all he wanted to do was get some fucking sleep. 

“Just a minute! Fuck!” he yelled at the second knock, throwing some shorts on before he made his way to the door.

His sweet girl You stood there with tears streaming down your face as the door flew open and he wanted to apologize for snapping when you shrank back. You were in your work clothes and you shivered despite the warm air. 

“I’m sorry. I, um, I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll go.”

“Are you okay?” he asked when you began to turn away, skipping the pleasantries. It was the only thing keeping him from putting his first through the wall. 

Who knew the sight of your tears would bring out the animal in him?

“My boyfriend. Well, no. EX-boyfriend now,” you said quickly, swiping at your face to brush the tears away. “I just caught him in bed with…”

“Fuck,” Ari whispered, not fully hearing the rest of your words, his blood boiling as you cried harder. He knew the guy was a prick, but a cheating prick? How could anyone cheat on you?

I bet Barnes and Rogers would help me hide a body.

“Can I use your phone, please? I dropped it when I left and I can’t go back there.”

Ari nodded and let you inside, having to step back so you didn’t brush against him. He was happy that the place was clean. It likely wasn’t as nice as Carter’s place, but he did well enough and he took pride in it. 

He imagined you there many times, but not like this.

“Thank you. I’ll be out of your hair soon,” you sniffled as he directed you to the couch, wincing slightly. “I’m sorry, but could I also ask for some ice?”

“Stop apologizing, please,” he nearly begged before he went rigid. “Ice? Are you hurt?”

I’ll kill him if he touched you. I’ll fucking kill him.

“I punched him?” it came out as a question, holding up your hand to show him. “Never punched anyone before. I don’t think I did it right.”

Ari fell for you a bit more. “He had it coming,” he said before he could stop himself. “Sit tight. I’ll get my phone and some ice.”

“Thanks, Ari,” you said, rubbing the top of your hand.

His gaze lingered before he left the room to grab what you needed, wishing he could pull you in his arms to tell you it would be okay. Anything to put your smile back on your face. 

The only tears he wished you’d cry were tears of pleasure.

Maybe one day, I can do that. And maybe not while you’re healing from this.

“You know, I could teach you how to punch,” he said after he came back and sat down beside you, gently placing the wrapped ice on top of your hand. He took up a portion of the couch with his size, but you didn’t seem to mind how close he was. At least, he hoped you didn’t.

You inhaled sharply, but managed a small smile. “I bet you could. Doesn’t everyone call you ‘beast’?”

He was happy that you knew his nickname. “They do. What do people call you? Sweetart?”

“Don’t you mean ‘sweetheart’?” you asked as you took the phone with your other hand.

“Nah. You look sweet and you are sweet, but you apparently pack a tart punch. Like the candy.”

Fuck, I sound like Jensen. He rubbed off on me.

You began to laugh after a second, your eyes shining a bit brighter through the pain. “Sweetart. I like that.”

Clearing his throat, he stood up and looked down at you. Most women were smaller than him, no matter their height, but the urge to wrap you in his arms and keep you safe wouldn’t go away. “I’ll let you make your call.”

He made sure to grab some tissues and a glass of water as well as you called your friend, doing his best not to listen when he heard tears in your throat. You asked if you could crash at her place and explained that you weren't in the best headspace to drive over there. He should’ve offered you a ride. It was the least you could do.

You set his phone on the coffee table once you were finished. “My friend should be here shortly. One of the only numbers I have memorized.”

He sat back down beside you as he handed you a tissue, his knee touching yours. “I know it doesn’t help, but I’m sorry.”

You dabbed at your eyes, sniffling. “Probably better that I caught him now and not later. I just feel stupid, you know?” 

“You’re not stupid, he is. He’s a fucking prick, too.”

“He never liked you,” you said, smiling a little. 

“Well, the feeling’s mutual,” he said, sighing as he leaned back against the cushion. “Could never figure out why you were with him.”

Fuck, why did I say that?

“He’s a family friend. Charming. Sophisticated. The kind of guy my parents wanted me to be with. When he asked me out, I agreed. I knew he had his flaws, but I looked past them,” you explained as he turned his head to pay better attention. You swallowed a little before you continued. “Which is another reason I feel stupid. I cared despite the red flags. I set myself up to get hurt.”

“You ignored your instincts because you cared, but that doesn’t make you stupid. Stop calling yourself that.”

You nodded, reaching for the water. He caught the ice before it could slip from your hand, keeping it there as you took a sip. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“The girl he was with was an old girlfriend. A stunningly beautiful socialite who just happened to be in town. They thought I’d still be at work,” your lip trembled. “She didn’t even look sorry that I caught them. It was like she knew she was better than me. And I know deep down he wanted me to be more like her.”

Fuck that.

“Anyone who jumps in bed with a guy and knows they’re with someone else isn’t better than you. They deserve each other. You deserve better.”

“You really believe that?” you asked, a tear falling.

Before you could wipe it away, he reached over and caught it with his fingertip. “I do. And I know it hurts like hell. He should’ve been faithful and worshiped the ground you walked on. You don’t deserve anything less than that.”

Ari thought he said the wrong thing when your expression went blank, setting the ice pack on the table. “Can I have a hug, please? You’ve always been so nice to me and I could really use one.”

Whatever you want.

The second he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, a fresh wave of tears came. Wetness gathered on his chest as you let it out. He wasn’t used to people turning to him as a source of comfort, but he instinctively rubbed your back and nuzzled the top of your head with his chin. He wanted to rip Carter limb from limb for reducing you to this. The demented part of him wanted to stay alive just so he could watch you thrive without him. 

No matter what happened, Ari would make sure you were happy.

Your tears slowed after a minute, but you stayed in his hold. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled against his chest. “You’re really warm. I think you are a beast.”

Ari chuckled, his large hand sliding up and down your back to soothe you. “You figured it out. Don’t tell anyone.”

“It’ll be our secret,” you said, lifting your head. Having you against him, you robbed him of his breath again. “Could I ask one more favor and I’d be forever in your debt? And you don’t have to.”

“Name it.”

“Would you be willing to help me get some of my stuff out of there later? I can pay you.”

“I don’t want your money. I can help,” he assured you. He would do it for free just to see the look on that prick’s face. “On one condition.”

“Name it,” you smiled, echoing his words.

“Come to my next race?” he casually suggested, hoping it didn’t sound like a date. He didn’t want you to think he was insensitive to your current feelings. “No pressure. No expectations. I know you just ended a relationship, but I think you could use a friend.”

“I’ll be there,” you promised, bringing a smile to his face. He hoped he didn’t look too excited, especially since you were still hurt. “I’ve been wanting to go for ages and now I have no reason not to.”

“I think you’ll like it. And don’t worry about your stuff. If you know where it needs to go, I’ll get some of the guys to help me out. In fact," he took your hand, the one you punched Carter with, and brought it to his lips. He swore he heard a slight whimper when they met your skin. "I'll even get your phone back before you head out."

"Thank you," you said breathlessly, clearing your throat as you looked away for a second. It felt good knowing he took your breath away, too. "I mean it. Thank you so much, Ari."

Ari knew your friend would show up any minute, so he cherished the feeling of holding you for a bit longer. He meant what he said about you needing a friend. The wound would take time to heal and he would help you see that you were perfect.

 A sweet and tart girl who made everyone around you smile.

He just hoped you wouldn’t hold it against him when he punched Carter in his smug face.

*****

We'll see more of Beast and Sweetart, along with some other riders, soon. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Jaskier did not shiw his ankles?! 😲😲 The audacity, the indecorum!!

Geralt trying to be respectful but there's only so much a man can take

People call Geralt old fashioned, as if just because he’s nearly a century old he doesn’t understand modern sensibilities. But that’s not it. He understands perfectly well that the world changes, but he still thinks there’s some value in a certain sense of decorum.

Jaskier, however, has no decorum whatsoever.

As if it wasn’t bad enough that he goes around with his doublet undone, showing off a lacy undershirt beneath – because that’s the fashion now, apparently, and young people these days have no problem with that sort of thing – there are even times when he removes his doublet entirely, leaving Geralt to deal with a lot of billowy shirtsleeves and uncomfortably transparent fabric.

It’s hard not to look, okay, when there’s all of… that on display. (Broad shoulders, the firm swell of his chest muscles, a tangling of dark hair that you want to dig you fingers into -)

It’s even worse when Jaskier choose to roll his sleeves up past his elbows (revealing the soft, pale skin of his forearms which aches to be kissed). Worse still when Jaskier continues to gesture wildly as he talks, hands flicking back and forth in Geralt’s field of view, constantly flitting distractions of skin and joints and blue veins barely visible.

Geralt steels himself. It’s just Jaskier being Jaskier. It doesn’t mean anything. He ought to be ashamed of his… blatant ogling. It’s unbecoming of a man his age.

“… Geralt? are you listening?” Jaskier snaps his fingers in front of Geralt’s face and his attention is caught by the delicate lines of his wrist, the scent of lavender emanating from his pulse point, the faint, faint sound of blood throbbing beneath the skin.

He schools his face into a carefully neutral frown. “Hmm,” he says, hoping that will induce Jaskier to drop it.

Jaskier narrows his eyes but says nothing, soon distracted by throwing himself onto the room’s single bed. “My feet are killing me,” he complains, one hand pressed to his forehead dramatically. “And it’s all your fault for making me walk everywhere.”

Geralt averts his eyes as Jaskier removes his boots and peels off his socks, damn him. Some things were not meant to be done in company.

Jaskier thrusts one foot toward Geralt and wiggles his toes. “Give me a foot rub?” he says, as if that was something you casually asked your friends to do.

Geralt makes the mistake of glancing over and is greeted by not only the elegant arch of his foot, but also a shapely, fine-boned ankle and the soft, inviting swell of a calf.

He feels light headed. His heart is pounding. This is beyond the pale, even for Jaskier. His ankle is right there. It’s indecent. It’s scandalous. It’s downright shameful.

Geralt commits the sight to memory for… later consideration.

“Come on,” Jaskier wheedles. “Help a fellow traveller out. I’ll call for a bath and we can share the tub while you massage my toes.”

The… the audacity. The impropriety. The blood is roaring in his ears. He thinks he might faint.

He sets his face into his most intimidating grimace and growls, “Fuck off, bard.”

Jaskier just laughs, high and light. “Oh, Geralt, you really are too much fun.”

Geralt pouts. He doesn’t see what’s so damn funny.