#ITS MY HUBBYS MONTH

[fakeuwus]

ITS OFFICIALLY JAYPRIL YALL‼️🦅🔥🤭😍💯

[alois-vanity]

I hate feeling lonely.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

tatted

words: 1k

warnings: established relationship, husband!rafe, tattoos

“mmm, good morning wifey.” rafe pulls you in closer to him, legs tangled together under the blanket.

“i’ll never get sick of hearing you call me that.” you smile, pressing a kiss to rafes chest as you snuggle into him, the morning light illuminating the room.

you’re both still on vacation mode, having just gotten back from your honeymoon two days ago. “i wish i didn’t have to get up, but i’ve got an appointment, baby.” “wait, what?” you whine, picking your head up. “you didn’t say anything about a doctors appointment.” your bottom lip pouts out, making rafe lean forward to kiss the frown off your face. 

“don’t worry, we will spend all day together as soon as i get back.” rafe slides himself out from underneath you, quickly heading to the closet to get dressed. he waited as long as possible to get out of bed, not wanting to part from you, but now having to rush out the door.

“mmm, i’ll probably stay in bed all day.” your body was still on maldives times, not even bothering to readjust to being back in the outer banks.

“perfect.” rafe leans over the bed, giving a kiss goodbye. “no need for my wife to even lift a finger.”

you smile at rafe, cupping his jaw to give him a firm kiss. “come home soon, i miss you already hubby.” 

--

“that was a long doctors appointment.” you frown as rafe reenters the house. you eventually dragged yourself out of bed, taking a shower and eating what you considered breakfast despite it being past noon.

“you know, darling” rafe says as he toes his shoes off, leaving them in the foyer. “i just said appointment, nothing about doctors.”

“what other type of appointments are there?” your brow furrows together as rafe joins you on the couch.

“tattoo.” rafe says with a shrug, making your eyes widen.

“you-you got a tattoo?” 

rafe raises his left hand. you finally realize he has a clear wrap covering his fingers. you take his hand gently in yours, looking through the film at the first letter of your name, complimented by a small heart on his ring finger.

“i’ll put the ring back on once it’s healed, but just in case i ever have to take it off, i need everyone to know that i’m still yours.” rafe says, waiting for your reaction.

“i love you.” you finally manage to get out, melting into rafe, making sure not to press against his hand as the red skin heals.

--

“i’ve got something for you baby!” rafe calls out, smiling as you skip into the kitchen.

“what is it?” you question, tilting your head to the side, expecting rafe to be holding something in his arms, but instead he lifts his loose sleeve, revealing fresh ink on his inner bicep. 

“whats it say?” you quickly move closer to read the script, eyes filling with tears when you realize that rafes newest tattoo is your wedding vows.

“oh.” you cover your mouth. “rafey, this is so sweet. i love it.” you press your lips against his. rafe clearly saw your reaction to the first tattoo, the way your eyes tracked over it whenever he moved his hands, the way you were practically begging to be fingered with just his tattooed finger, watching it disappear inside of you, the cold press of his ring against your cunt.

“love having reminders of the best day of my life on my body.” rafe never viewed himself as a tattoo guy, seeing himself as too indecisive, but his mind quickly changed when he realized they could all be dedicated to you, the one constant, the one steady thing in his life.

--

“i’m thinking about getting another tattoo.” rafe hums. its been a couple months and the script on his forearm is now fully healed. 

“really?” you hum. “what are you thinking, my name on your dick?” you joke, but rafe still cringes thinking about the needle dragging over his sensitive skin.

“definitely not. i was thinking your eyes on the back of my neck.” rafe turns, rubbing his hand over the area he was thinking.

“wouldn’t that hurt a lot?” you ask with a pout, but rafe just shrugs.

he makes an appointment the very same day, looking through all the pictures he has saved of you until he finds the perfect one. you’re smiling at him on the other side of the table on your two year anniversary of dating. 

he shows it off to you a week later, and you’re surprised how much you like it, kissing down his spine when you help him take his shirt off before looking at yourself in the eyes, but in tattoo form.

--

rafe won’t admit it to you, but he’s addicted to getting tattoos, wanting to cover his body in everything and anything relating to you. he does end up getting a few others, mostly to fill up what he feels are blankspots, a smattering of patchwork tattoos covering his body, along with a few more dedicated to you.

“rafey?” you call to him as he comes home, his hand now wrapped in clear plastic. 

“hey baby.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. you eye the wrap until rafe turns his hand to reveal that he has the word married across the side, yet another reminder of your union.

“i was actually thinking…” you mumble before trailing off, not restarting your sentence until rafe nods at you to continue, looking at you expectantly. “i was actually thinking of getting a tattoo myself. just the letter r on my ring finger. to match yours.” 

you twist your ring on your hand shyly, not sure if rafe would like the idea of you getting tattoos. you’ve never shown any interest in getting them yourself, but you’ve had to take your ring off enough times to swim or wash dishes and don’t want to be without that reminder of rafe even for a short amount of time.

rafes smile stretches across his cheeks. “i thought you’d never ask, wifey.”

rafe sets an appointment for you with his favorite tattooer before you can second guess yourself.

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie

[queenie-the-court-jester]

that isn't very holy of you :/

Yandere church boy x gn!reader

It came out shittier than I hoped for. Not proofread 🌺 I'll fix this when I have the time

Tw: religious themes, noncon mention, minor cult mention

✝️ you had just arrived in the small town of morning star. Having been needing a break from the city life, you rented a one bedroom cabin close by. Planning on staying here for a month, you quickly headed towards your new home, very eager to start exploring the area

✝️ wandering around the town square, it seemed everyone knew eachother. A family like community perhaps? Maybe that's why they all kept staring at you as passed through, must not be use to new faces

✝️that was until a group of children approached, asking you to come play ball with them. You couldn't say no to their puppy dog eyes, and the adult's judgemental stares so you agreed. And it was fun surprisingly! You noticed none of the children had any phones.. or the grown up's for that matter

✝️your first week there you were unsettled, but you just pushed it off as the townsfolks strange behavior, Focusing on unpacking and enjoying your stsy. Until one of the school teachers, a kindergarten one, knocked on your door on a sunday

"hi there honey! On behalf of the people I'd like to sincerely apologize for the cold welcome. It's just been a hard year for all of us! So to make it up you, won't you come to church with us on this fine morning?"

✝️ whether or not you're religious yourself, she managed to convince you to come along. Chatting the whole walk there. Talking about her husband, her children. She mentioned something about having a son your age but you weren't really paying attention

✝️ walking through the grand double doors of the church house, she sat you on the front row with the pastors family, next to a young man. You were startled as she sat on the other side of you, leaning in to whisper In Your ear as she pointed at the pastor preaching

"that's my hubby right there. He's a handsome fella ain't he?"

✝️david looked at his mother in disbelief, he told her a few a times he found you attractive and now look at her! He could practically see the gears turning in her head. thankfully you seemed preoccupied thinking, so he did his best to seem normal while his poor heart beated 300 mph

✝️after the sermon, david turned to you and have you a sheepish smile

"hi.. my name's David, but you can call me dave.. its.. nice to meet you"

✝️you and David hit it off, unlike all the other people. He didn't constantly talk about praising god and forcing his religion down your throat. He was kind, understanding. Laughing at your jokes and nodding along to your words. He never met someone so.. ethereal

✝️growing up, he had a hard time believing in his small towns "god". Watching them cut up and sacrifice newcomers to their false idols, he felt sick to the pit of his stomach heading their screams. But he could definitely devote his cause to you...

✝️he trapped you in this shitty town when he asked you out on a little date a few days later. Unaware he drugged your food and dragging you into his home, waking up chained to a bed. You couldn't tell how long you've been there, but every time you'd try to escape he'd punish you in bed. Not letting you cum or overstimulating you to the point of tears. Why would you want to leave something that can make you feel so good?

✝️he grew up desensitized to blood and gore, so he's confused when you're screaming and crying. Why are you doing that? Don't you know that this is what happens to bad spouses? What do you mean you're not married either? ofcourse you are. Stop being so difficult...

✝️nobody blinks an eye when he strides into town with you on a collar and leash. And that's when you realized, you should have left earlier. Because the whole town was sick in the head. It wasn't like you could call for help because he fucking destroyed your electronics and the people don't even have phones. Something about wifi signals can brainwash you

✝️ he's whipped for you, that much you can obviously tell. but he's smarter than he looks. Eating dinner with his family is just painful,since all they talk about is God god god. It hurts your ears with how often they just Randomly start singing praises. It's bad enough they force you to watch their cult church activities...

✝️if you give in to his demands, he'll let you off the leash but you have to stay close by at all times. If you don't, he'll have to make his punishments a little more extreme. There's also a possibility he'll force you to help around the town. whether that be looking after the children or just running around doing errands. The shock bracelet on your ankle stops you from running into the woods..

✝️if you don't, well.. you wouldn't mind if you became permanently handicapped right?

"don't be so difficult sweetie.. just stay still and it'll cut right through okay?'

[bennitastisch]

soon i’ll be 1 year on hrt!!! <333

[goteique]

| BE SWEET TO ME. + soshiro hoshina, gen narumi, reno ichikawa, izumo haruichi. 

+cw. — f!reader,explicit smut, canon typical elements, established relationship, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, s&m themes, s&d dynamics, oral acts. +syn.— sometimes missions take days, even months but when they return home to find you in a very awkward position; you never knew that being caught while touching yourself could be so exciting. +wc. — 2k

+notes. — i became a lil bit selfish and pushed my hubby!hoshina agenda. | redirect to blog navigation.

• soshiro hoshina.

The shared bedroom of you and your husband is now filled with yearning, stifled moans, and cries seeking his presence. It has been a month. A month without your freshly wedded husband, a month without his touch, a month without . . .  

The house is mostly empty with both the brothers being at work. The ground floor is as usual bustling with servants and staff that work specifically for the clan but in this wing, on the second floor where you and your beloved husband reside, there is nothing but you, your yearning, and loneliness. One of your arms travels down in between your legs. It is almost instinctive, curious even. The hand that you hold against your face after it has just grazed your entrance is glistening with proof of your yearning for him. 

At the very next moment, your hand slips under your kimono again your middle finger finding its way inside you. You could feel yourself clench around your finger but as you slowly start to move your fingers, in and out, your folded legs start to pull away from each other. You lean back against the heap of pillows stroking your finger in and out. Head now arching backward while your finger movements have changed, trying to find the pinnacle of this insanity whilst moving up and down, to and fro, each stroke slightly stronger than before yet you can not seem to place a finger on it, like hoshina did on wedding night. 

Click! Your body jolts, sitting up straight, legs rested one over the other toes almost touching your butt as your thighs aligned as you sat sprawled beautifully like the arch of the neck of a Swan. It is a good thing that you are wearing a house kimono, so easy to carry, so swift to hide the lewdity. My God! Oh, how Hoshina has missed his beautiful wife! 

Still, he acts curtly.

“C’mon, why did you stop?” Hoshina walks towards the bed and sits at the edge of the bed. His body facing away from you yet his head is turned towards you. You could not speak. You could not think. You might have been holding your breath. Yes, you must. For how long has he been standing there? Since the moment you closed your eyes or . . .Hoshina extends his hand to cup your face. His touch is rough, and full of strength on your skin. As he squeezes your cheek a little bit while running his thumb over your slightly parted lips, you curl like a cat under his touch. “You’re here. I — I was just surprised,” you whisper.

“Go ahead. Finish what you started,” You suck in a breath upon hearing his demand. It is not like he has not seen you. But touching yourself while he is still here, getting yourself off while he is all ignored . . .is not right by him nor is in accord with the duties of a wife. But Hoshina happens to think otherwise. Seeing you like this, like a flower in blossom, unaware of what to do he could not help but grab the wrist of your arm that was underneath your robe a few minutes ago. He licks your slick-soaked fingers clean off whispering, “C’mon make those wet again!”

• gen narumi.

“Why did you stop?” Narumi interjects as all your senses and movements come to a halt for moment. His lips are practically thread away from your mouth. There is a visible tent in his underpants yet he refuses to pay attention to it. He would rather focus all his attention on you, who is currently sitting on his thigh without any underwear but the short tee is still intact. Narumi could see how aroused you are. Your nipples are prominent even through the cloth. You have been practically humping his thigh since he walked into the room. How dare you? How dare you use a dildo in his absence while he has been holding himself back, keeps playing games so that he just does not end up giving in to the urge of jacking off in the toilet late at midnight, especially after stressful meetings. That thing? That cylindrical thing— he takes that an insult to him on his manhood. 

“Weren’t you humping the plushie I gave you?” You were desperate. He was gone for a whole month, leaving you all alone with your yearning and that damn plushie that reminded you of him everytime you hugged it or barely glanced at it.

Gen goads into you further. .. .his head arching, eyes landing on your nape as he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue thinking of, yeah, just thinking of kissing you, marking you. “Narumi please.” you plead hands being clammy due to being held by him at the back of your waist while his other arm rests on his thigh. He grabs the dildo that he kept it on the side table and turns it on. It starts to vibrate in the air and the buzzing sound is nothing but a sound of shame for you now. “How many times . . .” Narumi takes it closer to your entrance and he can feel your skin flexing upon his thighs. “Just how many times did you use it?”

You can not answer that. Not that he would be angry or disappointed if he knew the number but its just that it was his fault that you are here in the first place, so close to your orgasm yet feels like a foreign dream. You just wanna cum while Narumi refuses to give you that until you answer. The only touch between him and you is his show case of strength on you while you drag your lower body up and down his thighs.

“When you send a selfie.” 

Narumi’s hands drop like a withered petal of an old flower that is way past from its bloom. The dildo hits the ground and its still vibrating. Yeah, probably you could have answered that question better it seems. 

“I was barely naked.” He said with such a flat face as if that skin tight suit with mask on, droopy eyes with such a morning face would not turn you on. 

“Oh! Shut up,” You finally snap breaking free from his garb and before he could counterattack your lips were already on his, no resistance, no fighting for dominance just wanting.

• reno ichikawa

There was no funny business for Reno when it came to you. He has informed you earlier that he would be home today so that your heart and body fills with hope and want before he decides to take claim of both But when he saw you through the slit of the door it made him a little dizzy. The drawing room was dark and the light coming from your room was the only source of light. He would have stumbled upon the plant pot if he had not been so habituated with coming home to you after every mission. He takes slow but eager steps to see if the sounds that are coming from your room is really what he thinks it is. Ren stands against the shadow of the door for a while letting the fact sink in that you actually gave in, that you actually listened to him. 

Reno did not think you would. He did not think you would be ready to listen to him without him nagging for it till you give in. It has always been like this so why would he expect anything different this time? But maybe being away from home, for whole thirty days and that too due to mission sure affected you in ways that went far and beyond his imagination. Sure, he thought you would miss him, call him late at nights despite your share of workload, even send pictures maybe nudes sometimes but he never thought you would be busy in your room preparing yourself for him. He suggested the idea just an arrow in the forest but he had no idea it would reach you yet it did. 

It did reach you and now you are on bed trying to suppress your moans by cupping your mouth and legs apart from each other as you push and pull the dildo he parceled while he was away. Seeing you like this, so eager and ready for him has already spiked his heart rate ten times than his normal heartbeat. He opens the door and your lust-filled gaze, glazing sweaty skin is now only for him to soak in.

“Reno—” you moan his name in between working the dildo into your pussy. “What are you waiting for?” Those unrefined movements of your hand, the posture, and the lingering tears in your eyes suggest nothing but the fact that you are new to this. 

“Did I make you too long?” He asks letting his bag hit the floor with a thud and getting on to the edge of the bed. You barely give him a nod with a ‘hmmm’ and the next thing you feel is his lips on yours, soothing the wait, rewarding the ‘good girl’ in you while pulling out the dildo out of your pussy. Your muscles flex around the air as Reno deepens his kiss. He then straightens up, undresses himself, and throws the shirt somewhere on the floor before getting on his knees to hook his arms on your inner thighs. He laps his tongue against your pussy once and peers at you and since you don’t say anything he puts his lips to work this time.  

• izumo haruichi

Izumo thought he would surprise you with his return but his plan had a boomerang effect on him instead. Indeed, you were never the one to be fond of surprises to being with so it already seemed like a gamble to him. But just when he was about to enter the shared bedroom, he heard you: moaning and whispering. He would not mistake your voice even though it has been a month since he properly heard you, heard you like this, calling out his name voice laced with lust. 

The way you are moaning he could imagine in which position you are touching yourself, even how close you are. He hesitated to ruin that approaching high, after all he hates it when you do it with him.

Now, he is standing outside the room leaning against the wall while you are inside the room. The presence of wall has never been excruciatingly painful before. The door of the room is slightly parted giving him enough access to hear your voice as he zips down to take his member and relieve himself from the pain while you are drowning in pleasuring yourself. 

“Fuck,” Izumo hisses under his breath as he clamps his fingers around his cock, his thumb lightly tapping on the tip of his cock. His pleasure stems out in strings, sticking onto his hands. A month full of missions, thirty days without touching himself, saving himself for you so that when he returns home to you he is all you can have, he is all you could imbibe. Of course, there were times when he was tempted to touch himself and it was always in thought of you. But he did not rather he wanted to save himself for you. It is always about you, always has been but standing outside the room while jerking off as he hears you calling out his name mind warped in insanity, desperation, and pleasure. He can enter the room if he wants. Albeit! he can barge into the room and give you what you need and in that process subside the tide that was high in both of you.

But seeing you so desperate, so needy, and that too for him fills him with immense love for you, reminds him of his days during the mission where he would find himself submerged in the thoughts of you, unable to touch you, unable to hold, and not wanting to channel it through him by getting himself off. It must be frustrating, right? To be consumed by need so much that you forget everything but the source. You just need to hold on a little longer. He can tell that you are just a few strokes away from reaching the peak. He is too. . .he thinks  . . . he has now sat down on the floor with his legs sprawled apart as he strokes his cock in quick and rough motions. He wants to cum with you, not after, not before but when you do.

[rookiesbookies]

mischievous COD ideas😈

Heavily pregnant reader knowing that her hubby doesn’t want to be rough in the slightest with her due to her pregnancy and refrains from punishing her, so she abuses that fully to be a brat

To my sweet sweet brat reader, Im sorry if this is not all you hoped as I am a resident good girl. The one time I was a brat I got degraded (“such a good bitch”) and cried. I hope I do a good job portraying the relationships, if I dont let me know and I will edit it or rewrite sections that dont fit. You also didn’t specify so imma write for my usual set of lovelies. (Im also added Krueger because I’ve recently fallen in love with him a lil bit and he kinda fits thi)

The boys with pregnant brat wife

Price

This man is too worried about helping you get your shoes on. “You’re pregnant, isn’t not being able to see your feet punishment enough?” He’s not going to do much other than pinching you. Whether it’s your ass or your arm, and they’re hard “i had to discipline Soap subtly and im a dad” pinches. He’ll also use pressure points. Give the back of your arm the good pinch and twist. He’s just trying not to take it personally.

Soap

He’s googled what positions he can put you in. He’s googled if its safe for the baby. He has googled what he can and cannot do. He has spoke with your doctors about it, as embarrassing as that phone call was. And for certain punishments, its a long game. Like holding your ice cream you crave hostage until you learn. If he can’t make it sexual, he’ll find other ways.

Ghost

Like Price, he’s also using pressure points. Not the ones that knock you out but the ones that feel weird or make you got “ow”. Cannot get hard and it’s not because you’re not hot its bc he literally gets more flaccid than a limp noodle at the thought of possibly hurting that baby. He’s also very good at holding grudges and every time you brat out and walk all over him, he’s making a note on his phone for later.

Konig

Oh but he just got you to whine and cry you admit you want his cock. He knew eventually he could wait out your little game. “You acted out and now you must wait until I want to give it to you. You ask so nicely though, keep trying. I like when you beg.” He’s so mean, he’d make you wait until after you gave birth and however many times you acted out is how many weeks (or months depending on how he’s feeling) after you have to wait to get any pleasure from him.

Keegan

your toys aren’t doing it for you anymore? Nope. He’ll keep fluttering his fingers over you figure and let you use that tiny dildo he got you that cant even stretch you like he can. That’s all you get. His hands wont even go lower than your waist. They wont even touch close to your nipples. This is real torture. Every orgasm is so unfulfilling. I feel bad for you really. Hope this teaches you.

Gaz

He’s a doormat anyway. I don’t see him punishing anyone. He’s too much of a gentleman. I do believe he’d pull orgasm after orgasm out of you casually when you act up with his hands. Never giving you his dick as much as you beg. Pleading, crying for it, he wont budge. No you can deal with the consequences of your actions while he sits here and watches this movie. “Why aren’t you watching, love? You picked the movie. No, no, stop your whining, just sit and watch.”

Krueger

Sebastian doesn’t care. He’ll find other ways. Like right now you’re legs spread and hands flat against the wall as he spanks your ass, every time he does you have to say thank you and apologize for snapping at him. He knows you’re hormonal, but he’s going to make you apologize. Oh and he’s kissing away those tears and asking you if you understand what you do wrong while running you a nice bath and all the rubs and lotion for your poor butt.

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!

[notjustjavierpena]

you mentioned wife being the first person javi opened up to about his mother.

imagine him walking with her around his fathers ranch and just showing her all the places from his childhood, his favourite hiding spots etc and causally just mentioning his mum here and there. reader is clinging to his arm and just basking in the day.

at night they’re staying in his childhood bedroom since it got late and they had quite a few beers with Chucho and eventually javi is holding wife/then girlfriend close and just says “i’ve never told anyone about my mother before like this” or something like that ahhh

Open

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This is extremely personal for me to write about as a person who knows what it is like to lose a parent when you are young. I have written this with utmost gratitude to Hubby Javi because I can process some feelings through him. I hope you enjoy this harsh thing. I hope you know that this heals me and I hope it heals other people too. It might not be completely how you wanted it but I hope you like it better.

Summary: Javier opens up about the loss of his mother inside his childhood bedroom.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, angst, talk about abusive parenting, talk about grief, descriptions of a child experiencing grief and the loss of a parent, descriptions of cancer and its effects physically and emotionally, talk about death obviously, hurt/comfort, love confessions, openness is beautiful!!! kisses, clit stim, sex to deal with emotions

Word count: 4.7k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56911576

Open

About two months ago, you promised Chucho Peña that you would help him with the annual apple harvest and suddenly, the leaves are turning brown, and September begins with magazines filling up with apple pie recipes. 

Today, you have dressed the part for a weekend on your father-in-law’s ranch with your boyfriend. Dressing the part means that you have gone out to buy yourself a pair of denim overalls that make you look mostly like a caricature of a farm girl. Javier promises that he finds it sort of endearing, reassuring you every time you bring it up with embarrassment on your face. 

“Stop worrying,” he says as he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, standing on a ladder that you are holding whilst he plucks apples off what seems like the millionth tree in the orchard, “He likes you, baby.”

“I should have just gone with my usual clothes,” you argue with a little sigh. Javier doesn’t know how much it means to you that you aren’t seen as foolish, how much it would hurt to find out that you are seen as the butt of a joke behind closed doors. He doesn’t know how much you need this approval because Chucho Peña is the kindest and most gentle and attentive older man you have ever met, treating you like his own child with a soft mija (my girl/daughter) that had been enough for you to excuse yourself for a moment the first time you had heard it. He is not at all like your own father. 

“You’re making an effort that doesn’t go unnoticed,” Javier offers as a consolation after you have stayed silent for a little too long, stepping down the ladder and taking off his work gloves. He stuffs them into his belt and kisses you with another reassuring smile, “He likes you.”

“I guess I'll just have to trust you,” you sigh dramatically and Javier pulls you into an embrace, the chuckle he lets out vibrating against your chest. You feel his lips pull into a smile as he rests his mouth against your cheek.

“You are kind and honest,” he compliments and sways you from side to side as he holds you close. You wrap yourself around him too, listening to his sweet words and breathing in his scent, “And he thinks the world of you. I might actually start to feel a little jealous.”

A little smile forms on your face as he squeezes you tighter and when he pulls back just a bit to kiss you, you nod at him, trying to play it cool despite thoughts of self-doubt nagging at you, “I did warn you about how I get around parents..” 

“I know, mi amor (my love), I know,” he acknowledges and holds you close again, “But you did enough to charm him the first time to be invited back. And the overalls really do sell it.”

“Shut up,” you groan as he snickers in your ear. He always manages to make your heart flutter in your chest, teasing you relentlessly but grounding you as he does it. None of your baggage is too big for him, even as you present it with trembling hands from how heavy it feels to you.

“Just a few more minutes here and we can have a well-earned fucking break. I love you but not enough to skive off in my Dad’s garden,” he tells you and starts to loosen you from his embrace, “That okay?”

You nod and then you finally break apart. Javier gets back onto the ladder to pick the remaining apples off the tree in front of you. He starts the repetitive task once again, handing each one to you so you can carefully put them in the basket on the ground so they don’t bruise. While you do it, you find your mind drifting to the day you met Chucho. 

You remember the drive to the ranch, your heart pounding in your chest at a million miles per hour, and the fake smile you had given Javier each time he had asked if you were okay. During your stay for dinner and drinks, and as you smiled and charmed, you hid the anxiety until you were all the way back at Javier’s apartment once more, only then letting your facade crumble and telling him that the dizzying nervousness he had seen on the drive back had nothing to do with his father and everything to do with your own. 

Javier had asked you if your parents had ever hurt you and with a shaky voice, you’d had to explain that while the answer was no, what you received instead of deliberate cruelty was cruel indifference. 

“I don’t know what’s worse,” you had said with stinging tears in your eyes, “Being hurt or being invisible.”

“You’re not invisible to me,” Javier had whispered into your hair. He had held you tightly that evening, right in his hallway, feet planted on the floorboards that have become yours too, his arms a harbor of reassurance that things will never be like that again, “I will never allow anyone to treat you like that again.”

Now, as you place another apple gently in the basket, you think about how different Chucho Peña is from your father. Chucho’s attention is genuine and warm, listening to you with the same interest as Javier shows too, letting you know where some of your boyfriend’s mannerisms come from, whereas your parents’ show of care was always fleeting and conditional to the point where you wondered why they even decided to have you. 

“Hey,” Javier’s voice breaks through your thoughts. He’s looking down at you from the ladder, concern on his face and gloves already off again, “¿Estás bien? (You okay?)”

“Yeah, sorry,” you feel embarrassed that it’s so evident on your face that you aren’t at ease but decide to be honest, “Just thinking about parents and overalls.”

Javier steps down onto the gravel again, laying the gloves on the top step of the ladder. He tuts, face serious for a moment. 

“C’mon, you’ve been standing in the sun too long. Let’s take a break now and go for a walk in the garden. Still got a lot to show you,” he says with his hand reaching out for you. You take it with an unsure smile, but as you are interlocking your fingers and gently swaying your arms between your bodies as you start walking, you find that it feels more than alright to let yourself be comforted by him. 

Javier leads you through the apple trees until you are out of the orchard completely. He talks quietly about the ranch but there’s a slight hesitation to dig deeper than the materials and the construction of his childhood home. You decide not to push it, knowing that it was not easy to reveal your secrets, and instead admire the many flowers that will bloom in next year’s Spring. 

Javier seems to notice you taking in all the different bushes and flowers and you’ll never admit to seeing his shoulders slump slightly just before he starts talking again, “Mom loved this garden, you know. She spent hours here, tending to every single plant until her fingertips were green and dirt-smudged. I used to follow her around, pretending to help but mostly just getting in the way.”

“Didn’t get into trouble, did you?” You tease and lean into him as you walk. 

“Loads and I would hide up there when she got angry with me,” he points to an old and slightly weathered oak tree, a rope ladder in even worse condition hanging down the trunk, “But she’d always soften if I apologized. Once she said she liked her hyacinths without their heads to make me feel better.”

“I’d swap parents in a heartbeat,” you sigh with your head on his shoulders and he moves to let you hold onto his arm instead. He goes a little quieter and you allow him to hold onto her memory by himself for a moment, looking up to see a slight crinkle on his forehead. 

“Even when you’d only have one?” He eventually murmurs into your hair and from the way he exhales, you know that he regrets saying it, “I mean… I know you would.”

“You have beautiful memories of her, I can tell,” you say as gently as possible, “If you ever want to tell me more about her, I’m here to listen, you know.”

Javier clears his throat, “Thank you.”

A moment passes but nothing more happens. This would be the perfect opportunity but the silence stretches out until you walk beside him again, holding his hand instead of basking in his half-embrace. You want to say something but you are at a loss, searching for the right words to comfort him but failing just long enough for him to change the subject. 

“We should go see how far Pop has gotten,” he suggests lightheartedly and steers you back where you came from, out of what used to be his sanctuary with his mother. 

“Yeah, sure, baby,” you reply. 

Another time then.

—

When the sun has gone down behind the horizon and the cicadas have come out from their hiding places, singing their hearts out, Javier takes you to his old room upstairs. The both of you have had alcohol with dinner and while Javier had offered to take a cab, his father had scolded him for even thinking about such nonsense, telling him that it was a joy to have him home so wholeheartedly. Your father-in-law had looked at you with a warm smile as he had said it. 

Now, you lie in Javier’s old bed - just a little bit too small for the both of you - with the quilted bedspread lying neatly folded in the end. It somehow feels more intimate to be in his childhood bedroom than it would be to go through his underwear drawer. 

Right above you, several posters are pinned to the ceiling and overlapping each other. The corners of the posters curl slightly and their colors have dulled since the 70s but they display the men of rock bands like Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd. Some display the band logos too, they exist on the CDs that you have found in Javier’s glove compartment but he never listens to them when he drives you around. You make a mental note to casually put one of them on during your drive home tomorrow. 

Seeing those iconic faces from the 70s stare down at you, you can’t help but glance fondly at Javier when he isn’t looking but instead standing by the open window on the opposite wall, smoking a cigarette. Suddenly, his wardrobe consisting of denim jeans, colorful shirts, and leather jackets makes sense. 

You try to imagine Don Chucho coming in here with the determination to put out the cigarette in his son’s hand, holding in a lecture that would only have made the teenager roll his eyes. Then the snark that would have come out of Javier’s mouth, his face mustache-free and full of spots, and you smile so much that you turn around onto your stomach to hide your expression in his pillow. 

It smells faintly of sweat and the cheap cologne only a teenager would have bought, so you turn to peek at your boyfriend again. He taps his fingers on the window sill, overlooking the garden that you have come to learn so much about earlier. 

You spot small pieces of who he is everywhere; a stack of sociology books, paperback horror books with titles in both English and Spanish. The most worn down and loved one is El Resplandor which you guess to be The Shining. There’s also a corkboard on the wall with ticket stubs and polaroids, a framed photograph on the desk that you haven’t had the courage or chance to look at yet, beside it a figurine of La Virgen de Guadalupe that’s been tipped over in what seems to be frustration. Your smile drops a little as you feel the weight of the unfairness he must have felt. 

From the window, Javier exhales a puff of smoke and reaches up to rub his eye with his free hand. You glance again at the photograph on the desk, curiosity getting the better of you as you rise from the bed and walk over to it. 

As expected, the picture is of Javier's mother. What you didn’t expect is seeing your boyfriend at the age of what you calculate to be younger than ten. The resemblance is striking; her features are mirrored in his even with how much he still looks like his father. 

You chew on the inside of your cheek as you pick up the religious figurine next to the picture, placing her upright once more so her head is tipped toward Javier and his mother. There’s a surge of emotion in your stomach that you try to suppress, a sense of urgency to reach through the photograph and comfort the little boy who has lost half of himself. 

You hear him stub out his cigarette on the wood paneling outside, followed by the dry sound of him trying to brush the ashes off the wood again with his calloused hands. In his late thirties and still acting as if he’ll get caught by his father. 

He turns back towards you and you act like nothing has happened, holding out your hand for him to take. He glances in the direction of his mother’s photo but decides not to say anything even as he notices the figurine standing upright once again. You flex your fingers to draw attention to your hovering hand, “Come to bed.” 

You’ve both already been in your underwear for a while since it’s late and you’re alone - the overalls hang on the back of his door, scowling at you - so he simply takes your hand and you walk backward until the edge hits the back of your legs. You let yourself fall down onto the bed and into the mattress, moving backward until there’s room for him too. 

Javier sighs the second he is lying down next to you, your shoulders touching from the missing width of the bed. He turns onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow and staring down at your face. 

“What?” You ask with a little smile.

There’s a flash of something in his eyes and the fact that he hasn’t said anything yet makes you want to squirm nervously. He reaches out with the arm he has been lying on, splaying his fingers against your cheek as his thumb rests underneath your chin, and then he crashes your mouths together in a kiss that you know is him resolving back to past methods of dealing with it all. 

However, you find yourself kissing him back at first, grabbing his wrist, and leaning into him to make out with him in a way that his younger self wouldn’t have believed was possible to experience. There’s a warm feeling in your stomach as you tangle your legs together, desire for him swirling below your belly button. 

You gasp against his lips when his free hand slips into your panties, your heart hammering in your chest as he smears some of your wetness over your clit. He rubs you off until you breathe heavily, fingertip dancing back and forth over the hard nub.

“You’re so wet,” he moans quietly and slowly increases the pressure of his fingers. He really wants you to come, it seems. You didn’t have getting laid in your boyfriend’s childhood bed down on this year’s bingo card but you can feel your orgasm approaching so damn quickly that it makes you not able to think straight. 

“Baby,” you babble, horny out of your mind from the intense emotions in the air, “I’m not gonna— in your dad’s house.”

“Yes, you fucking are,” he says in a low voice, kissing your open and panting mouth to shut you up. You might come but he won’t have you making noise loud enough to reveal what you are doing. He growls in the back of his throat, “You want my fingers? Don’t reply. Just nod or shake your head.”

You dig your nails into his wrist hard enough to create little crescent-shaped marks. You want to nod your head so badly but it feels wrong to be nothing but an outlet, a distraction from what you should be talking about. So instead, you shake your head with a moan, on the brink of bursting, “Stop, Javier. Stop.”

Javier raises his brow but immediately brings his hand to a halt, watching as you whimper from being edged. You clutch at your own chest, rolling away to not tempt him to fall back into his bad habit. 

“¿Qué pasa (What’s going on)?” He asks with a crease on his forehead. He tries to kiss you again but you put a hand on his chest to create some space between the two of you. He scowls, “What? You’re not having sex with me because we’re in my Pop’s house?” 

“That wasn’t sex,” you bite with frustration throughout your lower body, reaching down to fix the waistband of your underwear. The fabric sticks to you and your throbbing clit tells you to beg for forgiveness so it can have its release. You ignore it, “That was you avoiding the elephant in the room with intimacy and I don’t want to be a part of that.”

Javier lets himself fall onto his back, reaching up to push the heels of his hands into his eyes. He groans and lets his palms run down his face until his arms rest along his sides again. He heaves a big sigh, “Shit. Shit, sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you promise because it is. You aren’t even mad despite how you probably should be, only feeling the way your heart aches for the boy who had to grow up too fast. Without a word, you reach down to entwine your fingers and give his hand a reassuring squeeze, “I promise. It’s okay.”

“We talk about her but we don’t talk about her,” he says to the ceiling. You go quiet and choose to simply listen instead of breaking the streak of him opening up about something so vulnerable. Instead of using your words, you rub his hand in soothing circles. 

“Pop likes to mention her occasionally but it’s with a little smile on his face and a funny story,” he continues quietly, “And that’s fine. Really, it is. I like remembering the good but he says all the right things without making it hurt. It feels as though he expects me to keep all the bad in check and believe me, there was a lot of awful shit. So much that sometimes it feels like I can’t move when I am reminded of it. Hospitals with never-ending halls, that poisonous shit they shot into her veins, her losing her hair, even her goddamn eyelashes, and suddenly not—“

He stops for a moment and swallows thickly. You turn onto your side and rest your forehead against his shoulder, still clutching his hand to let him know you are not letting go. He clears his throat to sound as if his voice isn’t wavering, “Suddenly not recognizing her anymore. This terrible sight of her turning yellow during her last few weeks. I was just a kid and it was horrible and unfair. I wish he’d acknowledge how horrible and unfair it was.” 

You kiss his bare shoulder a few times. There are so many things you want to say but mostly, it is that you are so sorry for what he went through. 

“I think I learned that nothing lasts forever,” he adds without looking at you, staring down at where his fingers are entwined with yours. He is quiet for a moment and you feel your heart pick up in rhythm as you try to find something to fill the silence with, something that debunks that belief. However, just as you are about to say something, he speaks again, “But I would like this to be. I would like us to be forever.”

“Javi,” you finally say softly. 

He lifts his gaze to lock it onto yours. He looks at his most vulnerable, eyes brown and big as he waits for you to continue. You take just a moment too long and he is off again, suddenly very chatty.

“I know I haven’t asked you to marry me,” he says, “But I promise it’s coming. I just need to get it right.”

“You don’t have to talk about that right now. You know I love you and I know you love me too; I know it’s coming,” you say to reassure, pushing the idea of only letting him speak away because this topic is too big to stay silent on, “I’m not lying here with you because I want a ring on my finger, and I’m certainly not treating it like a condition for you to open up to me. I want to know you, Javier.”

“Thank you,” Javier looks grateful to hear that, saying nothing for a moment before looking at the ceiling again. He laughs softly, “You fucking terrified me, you know, the first time we sat down together.”

“I terrified you?” You furrow your brows, huffing out a laugh of disbelief.

“I pull my grief up to every table I share with a person I would like to have in my life, mi amor (my love). I was terrified the first time we were on a date,” he admits, “I kept thinking when you were going to ask about family… If I was close to my mother. I hated to imagine the way your smile and curiosity would drop but I don’t want to just focus on the way I want to remember her. You were so kind and thoughtful and damn bright-eyed - that was before I knew about your dad - and I didn’t want to share how I actually remember her because you might have not wanted to see me like that.”

“Javi,” you let go of his hand to put your palm against his cheek, turning his head towards you. You weigh your words, “I want to know everything about you. I want to know everything about her too. Especially if you’re gonna marry me.” 

“She was incredible, loved music, always honest even if it meant war, and read so many books that Pop had to build her bookcase after bookcase,” he tells you with a tremble in his voice and a tear that threatens to spill down his cheek even as he smiles in remembrance of her, “But as warm and loving as she was hard. Believe it or not, Pop used to be the softie of those two.”

“I can imagine,” you say fondly. You let your hand fall down to rest on his chest, palm laying just where his heart is. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen a woman so defiant in her ways but she grew up with a lot of expectations of how she should live her life,” he continues, “I think that hardened her a lot. I think it brought a lot of trouble too. She was so fiercely independent. She was fiercely protective of me and Dad too but sometimes even more of herself. I guess I know what it’s like to defend oneself from all the bullshit people give you.”

“Fiercely protective?” You tease, “Sounds like someone I know.”

“Yeah, I guess. Maybe I got that from her,” he admits with both pride and sadness. He puts a hand on your wrist, rubbing it with his thumb as a way to fidget, “That’s why it got so hard when she got sick because that defiance just crumbled. I was just a kid but I was old enough to see through the facade she put up every day. I was happy to eat takeout all the time - I was barely ten, so who wouldn’t be? - but I knew it was because she was too exhausted to cook. The music was too loud, the TV muted so she could sleep on the couch all the time or maybe it had the sound turned up all the way because she was throwing up in the bathroom.”

It seems he cannot stop himself now, hand tightening around your wrist and tears falling from his eyes, “She would look at Pop with a scared expression because she knew she had to leave him all alone with me. I don’t think we ever talked about that fact. I think I just realized it for myself one day.”

Your chest constricts at seeing him cry for the first time in your presence. You’ve seen him in the aftermath of it on the nights when Colombia creeps into his head as he sleeps, where he excuses himself to the bathroom and comes out a few minutes later with puffy eyes and a reddened nose. Seeing him now, upset like this, hits you harder than you thought it would and your heart aches as you listen to him talk about the loss of his life. 

It is years of bottled-up cruel pain and sorrow flowing out of him, so you follow your instincts and throw your arms around him even if his arm is still trapped between you. You hold him tightly and feel his reluctance for a millisecond before he allows himself to tremble in your embrace. 

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” you say softly, “You were just a little boy, and you had to watch your mom suffer. No one should have to go through that.”

Grief is a funny thing because as you close your eyes, feeling his shuddering breaths against your chest in the midst of his emotional motion sickness, you swear that it is not an adult Javier that you are hugging but rather the version of him that had to let go of his mother. 

When your muscles start to ache from squeezing him so hard, you pull back a little to stare into his tearful face, watching his eyes glisten. You wipe a tear away but it is just replaced by another. 

“I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to mess this up,” he says and you’re not sure if it’s him or the little boy in him that speaks. 

“You won’t,” you reassure him, your voice steady like a lifeline that he can hold onto, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.”

Javier sniffles with a hesitant smile. Like the instincts of a mother, you lift the hem of your shirt to wipe a few tears from his face. You lean close to kiss him afterward and then move to lie face-to-face with him, so close that your noses almost touch. Your voice is sincere, “I know she meant a lot to you and your dad, so thank you for telling me. It sounds like she was an amazing woman. I wish I could have met her.”

“She would have loved you,” Javier replies, “She had this way of seeing right through people, knowing if they were genuine or not. And you, you’re the most genuine person I’ve ever met.”

Despite the warmth outside, you feel a different kind flow through you at those words. You brush your lips against his in a tender kiss, “I need to make sure that I tell you that I love you even more when you are so open and gentle with me.” 

He looks tired now but it’s the tiredness that fills the body after relief, “I love you too.”

“I think you should get some sleep,” you say softly. 

“I’ve never talked to anyone about my mother like this before,” he adds, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You never have to find out,” you tell him and reach to rub a thumb between his eyebrows, “Close your eyes, baby.  I’ll stay awake until you’re asleep.”

He does as he is told and smiles until sleep takes over, his face relaxing, his mouth going slack, and his breaths slowing down. He is so beautiful like this, looking peaceful, looking like home.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[yanderehsr]

Hii! May I request a break up but with Wriothesley? If not its alr dw, u r free to ignore my request <3

Been waiting to write something for my favorite new hubby🥰

Hope you'll enjoy😄

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapping

Wriothesley is in his office when you break up with him, you couldn't deal with his possessiveness anymore, you hadn't seen the sun for months, hell you weren't even a prisoner, he just didn't allow you to leave.

His heart clenches, it hurts that his beloved would want to leave him. Wriothesley starts with asking you why you want to leave, maybe he can fix this. You still want to break up and turn around to leave. Then he begs you to stay, throwing away all the pride he has to make sure you don't leave him, Wriothesley would even grovel at the ground. His pride isn't as important as you are to him.

If you still want to leave then Wriothesley doesn't have a choice, he grabs your head and slams it unto his desk, you get knocked out immidiatly, he is so sorry but he can't let you leave, he loves you so much, it would feel like dying for him to let you go, he'll make this up for you during the years you will live with him from now on.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to hurt you but you left me no choice, but to be fair it was partly your fault as well. Just so you know, no one will help you here except for me, so be good for me and stay here while I get your food"

[lovelytsunoda]

life in the fast lane // miles teller

summary: the life and times of trailblazing indycar driver y/n y/l/n, and her celebrity husband, miles teller. in the weeks leading up to the indy 500, the pair have a very special announcement that will alter lives forever.

pairing: miles teller x andretti driver! reader

author's note: its hard to write an smau about a man with no public instagram account lemme tell you that real quick-

y/ny/l/nteller just posted!

indianapolis, indiana.

liked by josefnewgarden, monicabarbaro, valkilmerofficial and 4,578 others

y/n/y/l/nteller indiana never felt like home to me until i had you on the open road.

indy tests start monday, and we are officially one month out from the five-hundred. let's do this, indiana!

see all comments

valkilmer you got this kiddo! we're all rooting for you!

-> ynylnteller 🥺🫶🏻 love ya Val!

kyle_kirkwood i have known your husband for four years now and he still looks awkward in every single photo that gets taken of him at the track. how does he do it?

user babe come home, the children miss you?

-> y/n/yl/nteller miles and i don't have any kids (yet)

ashleynewgarden shocked we got through that dinner without josef and miles singing beyoncé at the karaoke bar

-> josefnewgarden that happened ONCE. I wish miles had social media so he could help me defend these accusations

-> y/n/y/l/nteller take it up with the hubby, not me

user does she look like she’s out on a bit of weight?

-> user it’s probably muscle lmao she’s an athlete bud

patriciooward most photogenic couple in the paddock!

monicbarbaro booking my flights rn

-> ynylnteller girls weekend here we come!

y/ny/l/nteller just updated her story!

ynylnteller just posted!

liked by reesewitherspoon, coltonherta, glenpowell and 5,145 others

ynylnteller god I’m going to miss all of this

*this caption was deleted*

ynylnteller days like these 🫶🏻

see all comment

user did anyone see the original caption?!? where is my girl going!

stingrayrobb thanks for making my nieces day so special! she looks up to you so much and she spent all day talking about how awesome you were. thank you and god bless!

-> ynylnteller your niece was an angel, it was my pleasure!

coltonherta your straight line speed this morning was absolutely incredible. are we thinking an andretti 1-2 is in the cards this weekend?

-> ynylnteller absolutley! let’s get it!

glenpowell everyone is talking about straight line speed and I’m just amazed that you can balance on the tires like that-

-> ynylnteller it took five years of practice to be this good glenn

ynylnteller just posted!

liked by monicabarbaro, katherineracing, scottdixon and 4,653 others

ynylnteller as much as it pains me to say it, the todays Indy 500 will be the end of my 2024 season. while I’m upset that this season is coming to an end prematurely, I am also beyond excited. if the pictures above didn’t give it completely away (and my husband was able to keep his mouth shut all weekend), I am beyond overjoyed to announce that miles and I are having a baby! we tried to keep it under wraps for as long as we could, but as of the next race, baby teller would be too big for me to race without hurting them or myself,

while I won’t be on the track itself for the rest of the season, I couldn’t give this place up if I tried. Instead, my car will be driven by the amazing callum_ilott and I will be joining my bestie jameshinchcliffe in the commentary box.

when I was little, I only had one dream: to be a race car driver. but as I got older that dream began to change, and I realized all of that meant nothing if I didn’t have anybody to share it with. I wanted a family.

We are so excited for this new chapter in our lives.

Lots of love,

Miles and YN Teller xx

see all comments

scottdixon I’m so happy for you, darling! that baby is going to be so loved and so cherished. please pass my congratulations on to miles as well!

-> ynylnteller none of this would have been possible without you, so you’re the real hero here!

user mother is going to be a real mother now!

valkilmer congratulations yn! if you and miles ever need anything at all, you know where to find me (or mercedes and jack)

-> ynylnteller thank you val!! ❤️

glenpowell I am going to be the best godfather this kid has ever had

-> ynylnteller first of all who said you were the godfather?

-> coltonherta yeah it’s gonna be me actually

-> ynylnteller actually it’s going to be neither of you

-> coltonherta but why? I’m already a great uncle?

-> glenpowell yeah so am I!

-> ynylnteller everybody be quiet or we’re making Val the godfather -Miles

-> coltonherta you’d pick the old man over us?!?

-> ynylnteller he *is* less annoying

ashleynewgarden so pleased for you both! this will be your next great adventure! kota is looking forward to having another little buddy to hang out with 🫶🏻

callum_ilott I promise to take good care of the car! rest up and relax over the next nine months, god knows you might never sleep again

user miles is becoming a dilf!!! miles teller is becoming a dilf!!!

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @cartierre @lorarri @diorcharles @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @thatsdemko @userlando

[kusakiguzen]

Hello..how are you?.Well,I don't mind what you want to do anywhere. Headcanon or detailing fic. I got that thought make me wonder until I eat. I imagine this Cale Henituse/Han Yoojin already got the start of his own strong allies so (Y/ N) felt that she was a burden so or she thought they didn't need her anymore that's why she disappeared without telling them..That's more or less my imagination..I'm sorry for rambling(⁠ꏿ⁠﹏⁠ꏿ⁠;⁠)..

Take care of yourself, writer.. Make sure to drink a lot of water.. Goodluck for study or work(⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

Hiii thank youu!!

When i read your request it was more like this in my mind

Our dear reader who didn't realise that her bf/hubby was a yandere, went out in secrate since its his birthday was coming up. Her timing was wrong and no one noticed she left. When he realises she isn't in her room, he searches the whole building/mansion. He doesn't have much stamina so you can imagine how tired he must have been after running from room to room hoping you would be there. He started panicking and called all his subordinates, practically ordered them to find you. His right hand man finds you in a male accessory shop looking for something. He zooms their pretending to just stop by. He finds it so cute when you blush and stutter trying to make excuses since his gift was supposed to be a secrate, but all in vain when the shop keeper brings out the custom order you had placed months ago and only went to collect it. It was a thin neckless, with a small openable? locket with a picture/ painting of you two (painting which u made by hand) also adorned with gems complimenting both of your eye colour . And he is over the moon. He escorts you back with him and then picks you up, takes you to the bedroom for a long night. He keeps whispering 'you are the best gift' while thrusting hard and fast. He tell you he want to wear it now while fucking you so you could see how good it looks on him.

Lets just say you both liked the result of you sneaking out.

Ps. He fucked you harder on his birthday while wearing the neckless. You found out you were pregnant like a month later......

And i'll make headcanons since i really liked your idea!

☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

[shuamorollss]

unfortunate unexpectations — l.hs x f!reader

In an everyday attempt to avoid the man you eternally loath. Of course, the universe isn't always by your side as you accidentally reach a dead end, with no other choice but to dance with him.

romcom, regency era, enemies2lovers, just cute bickering warnings— not proofread, first time writing this kind of trope pls bear with me. 2.6k wc + reblogs are greatly appreciated!

author's note— I'm back again with another piece ( I'll disappear for a few months after this)! I wrote this exactly on Hee's bday but I only decided to post it now since i didn't really feel satisfied with this when i finished this a few days ago :/ i still don't so I may delete this when I'm in the mood to make changes ^_^ BUT HERE IT IS!! Happy belated birthday to my hubby wubby @Heeseung 😅❤️❤️

perm tags— @jangwonie @jungwonize @luhvlyuna @w3bqrl @ineedaherosavemeenow @leaderwon

"Would you be so kind and get that for me?"

Oh how annoying. You thought, gently tricking your finger up to block your ears and releasing in an instant, wanting the bothering itchiness to fade. His arms stretched beside you reaching to the the man holding a tray with glasses of wine.

Oh how you knew he did it intentionally.

Heeseung's boldness to give you an order was extraordinary, baffling even. You were not in a higher position than him, and he wasn't much higher than you, though he was just there, and heeseung didn't want to play the "he was just there" role in your life. He always feels the need to spite you at any given time, similar to a cricket making noises while you attempt to sleep.

Though much to his dismay, you certainly do show his own place as just a nobody in your existence; to which he never seems to catch the hint of your unintrestment.

Or he might do, only walking in and out of your life in terms of spitting utter nonsense to your peace.

Honestly, it did work. It made you fume and it certainly made you want to do more than just give out the usual glare and other threatening expressions to the other.

You turn around with utter confidence, meeting the man's eyes unbothered. Your eyes observed his structure, his unfortunately dashing attire, and his pretentious face.

As you check out the details of his sleeves, your eyes darted to Heeseung's exact shift of expression, smirking.

It was certainly expected, yet so mind flaming. You'd rather just explode right then and there than to keep up with whatever he wants to pull to you.

"You know, if a lady looks at someone from head to toe for too long it must mean that they yearn for that someone." He lets out a prideful scoff, eyes mockingly going through you as he sips from the wine glass.

Disbelief in what you heard, you halted your eyes from any further notice. Proceeding to roll your eyes at the man who had unknowingly tinted your cheeks red.

"Don't be silly, I was looking at your outfit. Actually baffling but not surprising for you to wear something so… Eye-vomiting." you spit. Twirling against his view and proceeding to waltz away from his standing figure, not setting a single glance at the man behind you. A fuming smoke sets up your chest at the realization of what you had just done to that awful of a man.

You explore more of the manor by yourself, enthralled by every piece of art plastered on the clean walls. You found an inner piece at the volume of the hallway, no noble bands performing and people crowding the room as they tap their feets and hearts out, it is truly a wonder to feel.

"Lady Y/N!"

Of course, every pinch of euphoria has their cut to its end, as one of your acquaintances calls you out.

"Oh, Lady… Lily? Was it?" You asked softly and loudly, as the woman clicked her heels towards you.

The girl smiles, "Oh yes! Though please, just call me Li."

"Alright, Lady Li."

…

For moments to what felt like hours, chit-chatting with Lady Li as you both walk around the manor corridors. The both of you had now reached your very destination which was the party itself that you so desperately want to be separated with.

You timidly smile at the girl beside you, eyes widened agitatedly at the crowd. "Uhm, Lady Li," The other nodded, her eyes also seemed to be searching through the sea of nobles.

"Why did we decide to return to this room?"

Lily simpers her smile as her eyes turn fixated on one figure, "There he is!— Thank you so much Lady Y/N for keeping me company through the manor." She gives you thanks, walking away with delight eventually linking arms with a man who Lady Li might have been searching for. great.

Another woman infested with men's validation, how unfortunate.

Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the couple in disbelief, letting out a brief sigh at the thought of almost every woman here might be just like that.

"Feeling all bitter now, are we Lady Y/N?", you trembled at the sensation of his teasing breath tickling your ear.

"What on— oh... it's you again."

"The one and only." Heeseung lets out a ridiculous triumphant smile, the smile that makes you feel itchy in all aspects of your body, it was extremely bothersome reaching to the point you would rip your hair out to the unspeakable rage you feel for the male.

"Don't make that face now, a real lady doesn't do that, well— that is, if you are even a lady." He chuckled, always digging deeper into your little actions in an attempt to reach you to the edge. How delightful.

"Your words remind me so much of my younger brother's pitiful counters." You face the opposite once more, your heartbeat slowing down at each step you take far from Heeseung, hoping to have a similar instance from earlier to happen once more.

Unfortunately, the things one desires don't really happen twice. As you hear the footsteps of the man through the crowded noise, the only shattered expectation you wish did not.

"Oh so I remind you of your family now? How thoughtful." His smirk added to his audacious response that could be sensed at such a distance you didn't even know was possible without even taking another look.

"It means you're just as annoying as my brother, don't take it as a compliment."

"I presume older sisters still love their annoying brothers nevertheless, so that must mean you secretly feel that way for me too if I remind you so much of your annoying brother."

"Oh how great, you can go stay in your own personal pride zone Mr. Lee, though that zone, will tell you to cut it out very soon."

"I doubt that, I think I can sense what's true and not true."

"Being ever so ethical now, aren't you?"

"You know what they say… I am that of a gentleman."

"Well so ethical now anymore, 'cause, you see… you claim to be a gentleman which in fact is ridiculously wrong, no, you're not a gentleman."

"Okay lady, I figured that was a mouthful to sneer."

Your eyes widened, subconsciously sighing aggravatingly, utterly lost of the others' words. "Please don't follow me."

"I'm not following you."

"You are? Don't make me feel stupid."

"I don't think I'm doing that."

You continued to walk further and further, you don't know where, it could be just anywhere to be out of this man's grasp.

not even reaching an uncomfortable minute of making your way, Heeseung finally made it way up to you for god-know-what reason.

Only a few more threads left to untangle until you implode, besides showing this man what you're capable of doing, you weren't about to do anything in front of hundreds of people.

You swiftly turn to face the man following, "Look Mr. Lee, don't even attempt to come and step closer—" the hissy grin never ever fading from his look. Before you snap even further, you raise your head as the lights suddenly turn dim, the current music start to tone down as the band plays a new mellow romance.

The both of you faced your worries, silently questioning the sudden change of atmosphere.

"Now, it is time for the party where the gentleman… dances with the first lady they set their eyes on, Amuse-toi bien!"

…

..

.

His eyes were on you, and yours on him. Slowly developing the idea you most certainly would refuse to believe.

"No." You shook your head promptly with no hesitation.

"Y/N."

"No, don't even"

"Y/N—"

"No. Not ever. Never in my life. Never in a millennia. You can serve the mediocrity of mediocrity— I am not even paying attention to what I'm saying, but just so you know, I am not dancing with you."

You groaned continuously at his spews, this chit chatter going nowhere at all. Heeseung was also growing exhausted of your opposed responses. Hearing your never ending hatred for him is never known to him, although being in this position during an all rounded dance segment, he was not about to embarrass himself in front of such nobilities.

"Y/N just—" His hand abruptly slid up your waist sending your internal nerves through every stage of shockwaves.

"What are you—" Your words began to halt from his tightened grip, slowly putting power on pulling you closer… and closer… too close to say the least.

"Just this once, we don't want to leave a bad impression at a party we're just mere visitors at." His breath fanned your neck and sent shivers down your spine. Truly a feeling between his embrace that you have never felt before.

Too much of a guilt to even feel, considering this is the man you swore your whole life to loath yet here you are. No other way of escape out of this man's grasp, other than to spend a minute and more with him following the melodious rhythm serenading within the whole room.

"Fine. This doesn't change the fact that I want to scar my name on your face."

"How romantic." His lips curved sarcastically, eyes shifts into pure mockery as it lays on you. You couldn't say if you were teased by his softly menacing gaze or comforted by it. Eitherway, you couldn't register the right words.

"Besides," Heeseung continues, eyes darting away from yours, looking elsewhere within the ballroom, suddenly a light flashes your vision, snapping you back to your current position, right in front of Lee Heeseung.

"I don't even think we could get away from this anyway, we're literally in the middle of the dance floor." His head shifts in every direction to deem his assumption correct, which you mirrored.

It's true, the both of your are really in the middle of the ballroom.

You felt blockage on your throat, as if your vocal chords refused to spit words out of your mouth. The close proximity between you and Heeseung felt extremely new, you wanted to escape it so quickly yet, quite in a state of culture shock of his careful and kind demeanor as his every step to the rhythm of the music are seemingly careful not to make a mistake or you could say in other words, step on you.

The distance soothes, your hands still intact as the both of you walk in circles. His gaze locked onto you as if a man had seen the beauty of the moon for the very first time. He was allured, not only to the sight of your eyes but also your entire attire.

Who was he kidding? He was making fun of how you looked earlier, or was it you who taunted his? Even he couldn't remember. What is this contact causing him?

His eyes followed the direction of your eyes shifting all the way to your linked hands rising, following the rhythm and everyone else's. Only then Heeseung was able to return to his composure.

Being quiet with you didn't exactly make him feel like himself. It's indeed a peculiar case, his eyes fixated on your focused figure attempting for a thought, any words, any attacks, frankly quite anything.

"I feel conceived Lady Y/N," He started, your eyes now transferring to the man.

"Did you walk all the way here on purpose just to lure me in this dance?" He smirks, deeply hoping he did not look ridiculous in your eyes, which in fact, he did look ridiculous to you, though in basic sense, he always does.

You scoffed, "Don't be such a crude, I was walking away from you, or if you didn't understand that, I was escaping you. however, you followed me. If anything, you expected this dance to happen beforehand." You sneered at your words, feeling vastly proud of regaining the upper hand.

"Now now, shifting the blame onto me?" He jokingly asked, swaying forward and backward, then continuing to circle in unison.

"Well, I couldn't be wrong." Your raised your brows at the man, receiving a tuneful chuckle.

"You're ever so ethical now aren't you?"

you scoffed, "Touché."

After a few warm-hearted rhythms, the distance slowly basking in, his hand starts to tenderly slide from your hand up to your shoulder. Now facing your back at a dangerously close proximity. The way his fingertips barely made contact onto your skin yet it still tickled, sending you into unreasonable wonders.

Lee Heeseung? Sending you to unreasonable wonders?

"What if I tell you that I really expected this dance to happen and followed you to be able to have this dance with you?" he breathes out.

Your mind stood place, frozen. It couldn't function solely because of those words.

You knew this was his tactic of his obvious teasing yet... that had sent your heart into places you did not expect for it to reach. Your breathing abruptly stopping at every emphasis you place into his words.

It wasn't any different for the man, he was hellishly anxious.

The way his hand stood still on your shoulder, then slowly sliding it down to your hand the same thing he had done at the start. He felt crazy, he couldn't grasp the feeling whether he's disgusted at this contact or was it, satisfactory?

Heeseung's breath unawaringly hitched in unison to yours.

The high-rising tension the both of you are desperate to escape yet… would embrace it more long.

As Heeseung's hand reached your hand, the distance once more soothes, or did soothe for you? Did it to him?

One spin had the same closeness return, now you two are entirely facing each other.

How did this moment feel too slow? normally the dance routine did not walk this type of pace before, usually it happens quickly before the music finally comes to its end.

The silence echoed immediately through the other's ears, having the slight worry of gkving you discomfort.

Worried? Heeseung, really?

Heeseung lets himself battle his own internal conflicts as the outer silence continued. You were in a desperate measure of developing a genius idea for a comeback yet none came into mind. The unexplained whimsical threw you off, the fact this man had to send you in this type of frenzy was never in your lists of expectations.

Yet now, at this very moment, changed your very view on your surroundings.

All because of this very man you swore to loath ever since his eyes laid on you.

One last twirl to the maiden as the band's instruments faded into the void, completing the romantic waltz.

As everyone in the middle applauded their elegant and coordinated routine just now, both you and heeseung processed your breathledd tension just earlier.

Finally having all the words reached the right parts of your brain, finally having control of your conscious, your hatred to the man came back with it.

"Aww, you really do feel deep adoration for me, Lee Heeseung." you politely curtsied. contrasting to the tone of your voice, as you reply to the man's words from a few minutes back.

Heeseung lets out a chuckle, "You know what? Maybe I do have a thing for such abominations."

"Haha. Aren't you a clever guy." You gave him a wide infuriating smile, as you turn around walking away from his presence, now leaving the man at the middle of the dance floor.

It was a peculiar state for you. You swore you completely lie instense hatred for the man, yet now you're smiling at his mere words that usually drives you to banging your head on the wall, sometimes the urge to bang his head on the wall.

Yet what happened just earlier felt, extremely out of place, something you couldn't quite explain for the time being.

You were conflicted about being bothered by it.

How it bothered your feelings, bothered you deeply.

A memory that surely the both of you would engrave in later lifetime.

.

..

...

"Wow, she called me clever."

© seungiepup. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

[angryschnauzer]

28th November 2023.

Myself and hubby went to see his Neurologist yesterday. He is going into hospital tonight and they will operate on the tumour tomorrow, but its a 'we're going to try and give you as much time as we can together' kind of deal rather than a 'we're going to fix this'. The kind of brain tumour is one that will grow back, and will likely need radiotherapy and chemo to fight it off afterwards to give him a few more months so to get his things in order and plan how i am going to be a single parent in the future and how to run the household etc.

My husband has terminal brain cancer.

[tervaneula]

Okay call me crazy but it's 5 AM and am thinking about YOUR leo x usagi (sue me/lh) but listen here... Listen.. Listen...

I love my fluff like my France fries dipped in sauce 🩷

So i thought of about one of your previous NQK chapters where leo tries to wake up but can't because he's just exhausted or burned out but he have to!

When he was with his family - after going back in the past - he somewhat had to wake up and do something unless his family would get worried about him but after marrying his honeybun Usagi?

I can imagine leo feeling guilty like " I need to do something today, something productive... Doesn't matter what " and Usagi whom sleeping next to him is like " Do you have too? " Like Usagi has no problem spending the whole day with his hubby, cuddling in bed, having a nice breakfast in bed (bet they feed each other) and doing bad flirts and top it off with saying how much they love each other as they share kisses.

You know. YOU KNOW. This has been my go-to comfort ask for over a month now and it's been so, so needed. Thank you so much for sending it. It's beautiful.

And now that I haven't been well, I needed even more comfort so I wrote a little ~800 word thing for it :') <3

Leonardo blinks.

And blinks again.

His blurry gaze sharpens slowly, the switched-off ceiling light above him coming into focus little by little. He takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out, finally closing his eyes.

He doesn't know how long he's lain awake just staring at the ceiling, unseeing, barely hearing the rain outside, the thoughts inside his head yelling at him to get up. Get up, be useful, get up, get up, get up.

He can't get up and he can't make the voices go away. He's stuck and he can't do anything about it, his fists clench in the sheets, a frustrated sob forcing its way out of his dry throat– 

"Mmh, Leo? How long have you been awake?"

Leonardo twitches his head to the side and sees two brown eyes glinting in the low light of the late morning, looking at him, fuzzy from sleep but intent, and a brow furrowed in concern. He tries to reply but he swallows the words instead, closing his eyes again with a barely-there shake of his head.

He hears a soft hum, feels the mattress next to him shift and soon two arms are wrapping around his neck, a warm weight settling on his chest. Yuichi nuzzles his cheek, then his neck, and presses his face against him. His fur is so soft on Leonardo's scales.

"You don't have to get up, you know," the white rabbit murmurs, voice gentle but still rough from sleep, "we've nothing to do today."

Leonardo disagrees.

"...breakfast."

"There's cereal in the cupboard and berries in the fridge."

Leonardo huffs at the straightforward reply and somehow that spark of amusement lets him finally regain control of his own body. Yuichi has trapped his right arm under him but the left one is free to move, and he moves it straight up to bury his fingers into his partner's sleep-fluffed hair. He earns a soft chitter for it and he purrs in response, feeling a sorely needed warmth spreading from his chest outward.

-

Yuichi forbids him from getting out of bed, getting up himself, and bringing a tray filled with various low-effort breakfast items with him when he comes back. There's the promised cereal along with a carton of yoghurt, a big bowl of assorted berries, a bunch of grapes, a cold coffee drink and two glasses of orange juice.

Leonardo drags himself upright and the tray is carefully set on his thighs. Yuichi burrows under the blankets, emerging right next to him and pulling the tray towards him so they both have equal access.

"Well then," the rabbit smiles, light and loving and loved. "Dig in!"

-

They finish eating, unhurried and comfortably silent, content to enjoy the taste on their tongues and the warmth of each other's presence. Yuichi picks up the emptied dishes and moves them to the floor, then turns back to Leonardo, grinning from ear to ear.

"Guess what's next?"

"We… get up?"

"Nope!"

-

It's late afternoon when Leonardo wakes up. He stirs slowly, indulgently, so very different from before, feeling warm and cosy between his mate's arms. His beak is buried in silky soft fur, his head cradled in an embrace so gentle it's as if he's something precious, something to be treasured and held with utmost care.

He's been on the verge of tears the whole morning – well, the whole day at this point – and they finally start to fall. It's a quiet cry, merely a release of the anxious energy that's finally letting him out of its grasp, a relief.

He breathes in Yuichi's scent, comforted and– and happy, he thinks, so very happy.

No matter how cruel Leonardo's mind is to him, Yuichi makes sure to never judge. They both have their bad days, Leonardo's being worse but it's never been a problem for the rabbit.

He looks at him and accepts him and is there for him, for better or for worse.

He reminds him that it's alright to take it slow. It's alright to just exist.

He loves him, his jagged edges and gooey core, the whole of him. 

And Leonardo knows he loves Yuichi more than he could ever put into words, more than his actions could ever express. 

More than there are stars in the sky. 

Leonardo doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve a love like this but for once in his life, he doesn’t question it. This good thing that he has, this new life he’s built with his family strong by his side – it’s not something to doubt, to ruin by stubbornly waiting for the other shoe to drop. He feels deep in his chest that this is it. 

This is it for him, and no matter if he’s earned it or not, he will hold onto it with everything he’s got. 

(he holds onto Yuichi just a little bit tighter.)

[notiddygxthgf]

12. three months

★ pairings: plug!wakasa imaushi x f!reader

★ synopsis: the one where you have the hots for your dealer, and Wakasa is always eager to please a customer. (don't let your bf stop you from finding ur hubby)

★ content warning: smut, angst, lotta porn w a lotta plot, car sex, dealer wakasa, cheating, oral sex, sneaky link, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, sex while high, consensual drug use, mentions of abuse, unprotected sex, so much more...

★ a/n: so.... I have definitely been on hiatus. So so so sorry about that my little pookie bookies. life has been so cray cray lately. ur fave premed student has been struggling ngl. but I'm back up on my grind and I'm cranking out these chapters again! This one took a while to write because its definitely not a writing style I'm used to, but I needed to get this out to get to the good good. waka girlies, u will enjoy this chapter... I'm not spoiling but, stay tuned!!! love u allllll

★ w.c.; who even knows bru

previous part | next part

BLACK STILETTO HEELS CLICKED AGAINST linoleum, one after the other – the sounds rhythmic and soothing. You could faintly hear the fabric of your pencil skirt rustling as your thighs rubbed together, strutting down the aisle of the office with confident ease. You ran these streets. Least, that’s what it felt like when you came down that aisle every morning after you clocked in.

Right. Let’s run it back.

Three months had passed since your last meeting with Wakasa. You had taken some time to mull the whole thing over, and while a part of you wanted to hate him, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

Three months of thinking, eight months of loneliness, three months spent repeating the same day over and over again. Three months at a job you didn’t really like, trying to make ends meet after Takeomi had cut you off.

Three months without him .

The unopened message sat in your phone the way it had been since you’d sent it. It seemed like years, now, that you had been running your tired gaze over the small field of text below the drunken mash of letters you had sent.

Read 12:01 AM

Swishing the burgundy booze around the bottom of your glass, you rested your head against the cold, unforgiving surface of the bar table. 

You swiped your ID through the reader, punching out for the day. Pocketing the little card and lanyard, you continued onward. You came up to an elevator, same one you used every day. You pressed the same buttons to get down to the same door you left through every day.

Every day.

With a quick nod of your head, you greeted your coworker – who was on her way in just as you were making your way out. You weren’t too big of a fan of her, in all honesty. You felt she was too superficial. Then again, who wasn’t in a place like this?

You were making good money, though. That’s all that mattered.

The rush of cool air that greeted you as you pushed past the gold-rimmed office doors provided a brief respite from the stuffy office. The city streets stretched before you, bustling with activity as people hurried by.

You took a deep breath.

Heels clicking against the pavement with every step, you walked with a purpose. The air of confidence you strived to exude seemed to mask your internal turmoil – feelings you felt were much better left unsaid, feelings that had been bottled away in the cellar of your mind for the past three months.

Three months of repetition.

Three months of regret.

Three months spent trying to remember the intricate valleys and curves of his body, the small features you had come to adore.

Three months spent trying to forget him.

Though you had struggled initially with your feelings toward Wakasa, you couldn’t really bring yourself to hate him. You had spent a good quarter of a year mulling it over in your head, breaking your last interaction with him into microscopic bits and pieces.

You had concluded that he had done it to protect you.

You knew he had been right to an extent but, shit… a man of his standing should have been able to find a way to make it happen…

…right?

You hadn’t heard much about Takeomi since the fight with him and Waka. Not even a peep. You didn’t know whether to feel alarmed about that or not.

You felt like you were being watched from a distance. Always. It felt like you were trapped in a never-ending cycle.

With your phone in hand, you dialed the number for a cab. The familiar anticipation began to build again while you waited for the vehicle to arrive. 

On the streets below, the city lights flickered to life, casting an amber glow on the sidewalk. You looked around for a moment, and then something piqued your attention.

Vrrrr.

There was a deep, rumbling sound in the distance, one that seized your heart in its grasp. For a moment, you were right back where you had been eight months ago. Your eyes searched the street until they fell upon a motorcyclist who had slowed to a stop in front of your building. Well, not in front of it, across the street. 

The sight of the rider stirred a pang of nostalgia deep within you.

In that split second, memories flickered through your mind. Memories of stolen laughter, hidden kisses… Memories of hushed promises against soft lips, some broken and some kept. His silhouette triggered an unexpected surge of hope.

You strained to see the rider’s face, heart racing. You yearned for that familiar, lazy gaze – the warmth it once held. 

But as he popped the helmet off of his head, it wasn’t blond hair that fell over his shoulders. No, just regular old brown hair and a stubbly face. 

It’s not him.

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut.

Your gaze fell. 

The cab’s arrival disrupted the moment, its tires screeching against the pavement until it came to a stop by the curb. With a weighted sigh, you climbed into the cab.

Your heart throbbed with a bittersweet ache. As the cab pulled away, you couldn’t help but wonder about the chances you wished you had taken with Wakasa, the what-ifs that lingered in the recesses of your mind. 

The cab carried you away from the scene, leaving behind the phantom of a love that had become a haunting memory.

-

The cold, yellow liquid felt refreshing as it burned its way down the back of his throat, that familiar acidic texture eating away at his stress. He sighed, setting the glass down on the counter.

As the bittersweet elixir numbed his senses, the pulsing beats of the club melted away, merging with the cacophony of laughter and chatter all around him.

Lost in a haze of intoxication, Wakasa let out a heavy sigh, setting the glass down on the counter with a thud. His friends eyed him up warily, faces etched with that familiar look of concern. He heard voices, people telling him to slow down, to regain control.

Of course, he paid them no heed. Glazed eyes reflecting a distant detachment, senses dulled from the liquor… worries numbed, just the way he liked it. In that numbing embrace, he found solace. Time and time again.

“I think you need a therapist, man,” Benkei whistled, nursing his own strawberry margarita. “If you’re still hung up over a hook-up this long after the fact, there’s something wrong with you.”

He pushed his friend’s concerns aside with an air of indifference and a quiet hum, too caught up in the muffled chaos of his own mind to truly acknowledge his worries.

“I think you need ‘ta hop off my dick,” He retorted, pursing his lips. “I know what I’m doin’, Kei. ‘M 27 years old.”

Benkei knitted his brows, muttering something into his margarita along the lines of, “Sure don’t act like it.”

“‘M fine, guys. Promise,” He smiled, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He knew he hadn’t been himself in a while, of course, but he would be damned if he admitted that. “What, a man can’t drink in peace?”

“No, Waka, the problem isn’t you drinking in peace,” Shin added matter-of-factly. “‘S the fact that that’syour eighth beer of the night.”

Waka glanced down at the half-empty drink in his hand – or half full, depending on how you looked at it – as if he, too were surprised at the number. “‘S Friday night, anyway. Go hard or go home.”

Waka thought he had put on a good show. He thought that, if Shin squinted hard enough, he could mistake him for a sober man. 

He thought wrong.

Shin shook his head, “It’s fuckin’ Thursday, man.”

Although he refused to acknowledge it verbally, he knew Shinichiro had brought up a good point.

Who was he kidding, anyway? It didn’t help. None of it did. The booze, the clubs every weekend, the faceless hookups and lap dances – none of it distracted him from the mess you had made in his heart.

Three months.

“It’s okay to admit you need help, Waka, y’know we love ‘ya,” Shin tilted his head. “Seriously.”

“Honest to God,” Benkei hummed.

The whole world knew he was a mess. Why couldn’t he just admit that something was wrong?

Waka ran his tongue over his teeth like the sharpened edge of a blade. He almost hoped it would draw blood. Anything to make him feel something.

“I…” He hummed, trailing off for a moment. “I think I need one more shot, then I’ll go home.”

Benkei shook his head.

Shin looked disappointed. Still, Waka couldn’t quite bring himself to care. 

Not even when his two friends had to carry him home.

-

[ 2:00 AM ]

Outgoing Message - 2:00 AM

You get home safe? 

.

Incoming Message - 2:00 AM

Yeah man. Thx 4 askin.

He holdin’ up ok?

.

Outgoing Message - 2:00 AM

He’s alr now, im staying w him tn

Gotta make sure he don’t puke in his sleep

Lol

.

Incoming Message - 2:00 AM

This ain’t healthy for him…

.

Outgoing Message - 2:00 AM

Ik… we gotta do smth man

.

Incoming Message - 2:00 AM

Ik, h8 2 see him like this

.

Outgoing Message - 2:01 AM

Idk i mean my lil sis is friends w her i think?

It may be time for ummm

.

Incoming Message - 2:02 AM

An intervention lol?

You know how Waka feels ab us gettin involved w his antics

.

Outgoing Message - 2:02 AM.

Not us.

I know a way

.

Incoming Message - 2:02 AM

It don’t involve Take’s ex girl, do it?

.

Outgoing Message - 2:03 AM

Jus follow my lead, alr?

.

Incoming Message - 2:03 AM

… I don’t like where this is headin, shin.

But I trust u.

Delivered.

-

[ USER CALL LOG ]

Best Bud (Waka)....... (Incoming) 5:00 PM (30 sec)

Lil sis (Emma) ………. (Outgoing ; declined)  2:10 AM 

Lil sis (Emma) ………. (Outgoing ; received) 2:11 AM (26 mins)

Benkei …………………. (Outgoing ; received) 2:12 AM (1 min)

Shibuya Pizzeria ……. (Outgoing ; received) 2:30 AM (1 min).

[ END OF USER “Papi Sano”S CALL LOG]

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[2:05 AM]

[Automated]: you have 3 new messages. Play back?

[USER] Selected:

[NO] …

… [View Inbox]

…

[ Last 3 Months ].

[REPLAY>>] Message from ‘Pretty Thing’.

Transcription:

“ Hi Waka, It’s me… I know ‘s… [hiccup] been a while. I’m- Just. Wanted to let you know that I’m in the area. And, first of all… fuck you, for what you did to, to me, you– ugh. You bastar- [hiccup] -d. I’m calling to let you know that I’m much better off without you. Me and my girls are havin’ a ball… a… a ball here tonight. Without you…….. Ugh, who am I kidding. I don’t even know why I called you. You probably haven’t even thought about me in months. I know I’m g’nna [hiccup] wake up tomorrow and forget I even sent this message so– [hiccup] just do me a favor, okay? You owe me that, after breaking my heart the way you did. Just forget you never saw this message, okay? Delete it. It’ll be better for both ‘f us if we just pretended this never happened. Fuck. How do I delete a voice message? I–

[???]: Girl, who are you talking to?

I gotta go, Waka, but… [sigh] I miss you. Okay? Fuck, I really miss you. I would never admit that sober. Thankfully I’m gonna delete this message before you ever see it, so it’ll be like it never happened. Not like I would have remembered anyway. Okay. Which button is it again? Ah, wait, shi –”

[ End of Message. ]

[Automated]: Would you like to play the next message?

[ No. ]

[ Play ]

[Automated]: Replaying message from ‘Pretty thing’.

-

The harsh neon lights buzzed against the night sky tonight at the Eclipse. Even from where you were standing on the curb, you could hear the bass throbbing through the pavement, the vibrations in the air, the smell of sweaty bodies grinding a few yards away. 

YOU  |  I’m here babe wya

Hitting send, you pocketed your phone. You took a deep breath, tightened your grip around the strap of your purse, and then stepped forward. The moment you entered the club, a wave of sound and sensation enveloped you. The air was thick with perfumes and colognes, the faint aroma of liquor lingering somewhere – probably the ground. 

Disco lights painted the crowd in fleeting bursts of colors, highlighting dancing bodies, dazzling outfits, and sin. 

In all honesty, you had no idea why Emma had even thought to invite you out here tonight. It had been eons since your last trip to the club. But, still, she said some event was happening and she didn’t want to go alone, and who were you if not the world’s best friend?

You searched the crowd for her familiar face and, sure enough, there she was, standing by the bar on the far end of the room. Blonde hair down to her back and a sweetheart dress that revealed just enough cleavage for you to know she was scouting out free drinks tonight, she was hard to miss.

You couldn’t help but smile as she waved you down wildly, gold bangles glinting beneath the club’s kaleidoscopic lights. There was an old song playing, one you couldn’t quite remember.

Emma’s grin only widened after you approached the bar and took a seat next to her. You scooted a little closer, cupping your hands over your mouth and shouting, “You weren’t kidding about this place!”

She laughed, a sound that you could almost hear in your head despite not being able to catch it over the music. “It’ll be fun! You brought ‘ya dancin’ shoes, right?”

Your eyes darted over to the dancefloor, where bodies writhed beneath the bass of the music. The sensation you felt was somewhere between excitement and hesitation. “I ‘dunno if I’m there yet, Emma– It’s been a while!”

“What?” Emma shouted. She rolled her eyes, glancing down at the other end of the bar. “I didn’t bring you here to mope, babe, we’re getting plastered!”

On cue, the bartender returned with two green drinks in hand, furnished with tiny little umbrellas. He set them down in front of the two of you, reached behind the bar, and then set two more red cocktails down before you.

“Let’s get this party started!” Emma squealed, sliding one of the green drinks your way. She held her drink in your direction, “To girls’ night!”

You clinked your glasses together in a toast.

Taking a cautious sip, you allowed the sweet concoction to flood your parched mouth. It was coconutty, with a hint of lime and –

The liquor hit you like a punch to the face. You scrunched your nose up, coughing a bit. 

“Shit, that’s strong,” You remarked.

“It’s a Coco Loco!” She answered the question you had yet to ask. “With two extra shots of rum! I knew you’d like it!”

You weren’t really a fan honestly, but you didn’t want to tell her that. Not after she had just spent money on drinks for the both of you.

“It’s good,” You said anyway. 

Emma clapped a hand on your shoulder, “That’s the spirit!” She exclaimed happily. Her makeup was creased a bit around the corners of her lips, where you knew she had been smiling all night. “Melt the pain away, girl.”

-

Wakasa stumbled out of the car, pulling his arm out of Shinichiro’s tight grasp. His annoyance was palpable in the way he kicked the car door shut behind him, paying no mind to the driver as he pulled away. He stood now on the edge of a bustling sidewalk in the middle of what might have been the shadiest-looking corner in Shibuya. He took a long drag from his cigarette, tendrils of smoke melting into the midnight blue around them.

“The hell are we doing at a seedy joint like this?” Waka grumbled, voice a low growl of discontent. With a scowl, he readjusted the collar of his deep purple dress shirt. 

Shinichiro bounced on the balls of his feet, stuffing his hands into his pockets with a sigh. His breath materialized into the air in front of him, a cloud of white amidst the darkness. 

“Figured we’d let loose a ‘lil tonight,” He spoke with such casualty that it almost came off as a little dismissive. He nudged Wakasa playfully, a humorous glint playing in his dark eyes. “Find some loose local girls for a quickie, yeah?”

Under any other circumstances, he would have been jumping at the opportunity. Seeing as he had spent the last few months attempting to drink his regrets away, however, he was anything but chipper at the prospect.

Waka’s annoyance only deepened, brows furrowing. He took another puff of his cig, blowing out the smoke with a quiet scoff. “I’m over fuckin’, man,” he groaned. “I’m goin’ celibate… startin’ today, no more bitches f’me.” 

“Like I’d ever believe that from you,” Shinichiro snorted, a subtle grin playing at the corner of his thin lips. He slung an arm over Wakasa’s shoulders. The height difference between the two of them was emphasized as they walked side by side. “Jus’ give it an hour, Waka,” he urged, tone oddly persuasive. “If you hate it, we can leave. If you don’t have a chick’s legs wrapped around your neck by the end of the night, I owe you fifty.”

Waka sucked his teeth, irritation melting away with newfound curiosity. “Might do it ‘jus to spite ‘ya,” He retorted.

“Right. Wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Shinichiro replied, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. There was something in his tone that raised Wakasa’s suspicion, the slightest feeling that Shinichiro might be up to something. “And don’t be bitchy with me ‘jus because I won’t let you pregame a fuckin’ liquor bar.”

Waka shot Shinichiro a fiery glare, cigarette ember glowing bright, before flicking the thing onto the ground in one deliberate motion. “Blow me,” he muttered beneath his breath. 

The two men stood in front of the club’s entrance. Wakasa slowed, locking his gaze onto the club’s exterior. Then, with a reluctant sigh, Waka entered the building.

-

As the night wore on, you found yourself lost in the spell of the music, lost in the endless sea of dancing, grinding bodies. The colored lights were hot against your sweaty skin. You knew the makeup would be melting off of your face by the end of the night if you kept going on at this rate. Hell, your mascara had started migrating already.

Emma’s Just-dance-inspired moves were contagious. The two of you were dancing on one another, performing a routine you seemed to remember all too well for someone who hated playing Just Dance so much.

The club seemed to ebb and flow like a living organism tonight.

You had lost track of time a long time ago. The songs had begun to bleed together seamlessly. Somewhere along the way, you lost your sweater. The dress you had decided to wear was stuck to your waist, plastered down with sweat. 

Yet, in spite of this, you were having more fun than you had anticipated.

Your flow was broken only when Emma grabbed you by the arm and led you to an empty corner. The both of you caught your breath.

Cheeks hot and flushed, you sighed contentedly, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, Emma, but you were right.”

“You havin’ fun, girly?” She giggled, giving you a playful sock in the arm. “Told you you’d feel better if you got out of the house.”

You nodded, feeling slightly liberated. She was right. You were actually kind of glad that you came out of your shell for tonight. 

Emma raised a playful brow. “You want to get a refresher?”

With a nod and a thin-lipped smile, you let Emma lead you over to the bar.

The two of you took a seat for the second time that evening, taking a moment to cool down and catch your breath. 

Emma turned her attention to the bartender – the same one she had just tried to hit on 30 minutes ago, “Two waters, please,” She ordered.

You tuned the bar out after that. Feeling a little melancholic, your eyes scanned the scene. The lights, the bodies, the music, the drinks. It was all so… messy. Yet, still, there was that unmistakable electricity in the air tonight.

Just as you were about to turn back to Emma, your gaze locked onto a figure against the wall. Immediately the recognition set in, and your heart skipped more than a few beats. It seemed to stop altogether.

There, standing in the dim corner, the lights danced over his familiar features – pretty button nose, downturned eyes, arched brows. His hair was back in a messy bun tonight. Even now, he had that passive, unamused look on his face.

He looked exactly the same as he had the day he closed the door on you.

Well, if you want to be technical, you closed the door on him, but you meant that in the metaphorical sense.

His piercing eyes scanned the crowd with a touch of his signature indifference. He exuded an air of mystique, momentarily entrancing you all over again.

And even now, three months later, his effect on you had not wavered.

Emma’s touch on your arm brought you back to the present, breaking the spell he had cast. “Hey,” She asked, concern evident in her voice. “You good?”

Your eyes were drawn back to the entrance, and your heart sank when you spotted your blond, ex-situationship once again. Panic surged through your veins immediately, seizing your lungs. It felt as if the walls of the club had gotten much smaller, all of a sudden.

Waka was standing there by the entrance, only a few yards away, with Shinichiro by his side. He looked every bit as breathtaking as you remembered him to be.

And he was looking right at you.

He can’t see me.

I need to hide.

He can’t see me.

You whipped your head back around towards your friend, flashing her a faux smile. “I’m gonna,” You swallowed, voice unsteady. “I’m gonna go back to the floor.”

Without even waiting for a response, you turned abruptly and slid off of the barstool. Your pulse was racing as you pushed through the wall of bodies behind the bar and made a beeline for the dance floor.

Emma was calling after you. You didn’t care.

The urgency to put distance between you and your past had consumed you whole. The bass pounded in your ears, matching the rapid thrum of your heartbeat. The music drowned out her voice as you merged with the sea of people once again.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried your best to lose yourself in the rhythm. Your movements were a frenzied, frantic mess of anxious movements. This time, when the lights flickered over you, the shadows they cast brought back memories of your history, your mistakes. 

I will not let him ruin my night, you told yourself.

Yet, still, you dared one last glance around. 

It was to scout the area for a suitor. That’s what you told yourself. 

Subconsciously, however, you searched for Waka amidst the colorful, blurred throng. Your heart began to race again when you spotted him by the bar, head turning slowly, eyes flitting over the club scene. It looked like he was searching for something.

The realization hit you like a train.

He’s looking for me.  

a/n: aaaand we are back with another cliffhanger! I'm so sorry. i have been, so bad to u all lately. life has been crazy! I think I may be shadowbanned, idk, I still dk how tumbly works. anyway! I did not like writing this chapter but it was a totally necessary segway into the next one, which will be very very very very very... jus trust me yall will love it. you know the drill, leave comments, suggestions, anything in down below and I will like, cry reading ur messages as always. Next chap is gonna be my fave like everrrr omg...

I obviously do not own tokyo revengers or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @tokyorevengersslut69, @mikeys-bike-slut, @midtwenties-angst, @sleepysnk, @enneadec, @noaabean, @galactict3a, @em1e, @drakensdarling, @wakashawty, @satanlovesusall666, @sin-and-punishment, @mztoman, @sanzuicide, @bontensbabygirl, @strawberrychrome, @scaraphobia, @bertholdts--butt, @xiedoll, @missgab, @keiskyutie

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[notjustjavierpena]

Late Night Feelings

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Hey people, my first fic in a while. Hubby will be back soon but be patient.

Summary: Lucien enjoys phone sex with you… his ex who is in a relationship.

Pairing: Lucien Flores x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, verbal humiliation, infidelity 

Word count: 2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55842253

Late Night Feelings

It is like clockwork by now. Lucien has made a ritual out of it and set up a routine for himself. He waits with his phone lying next to him on the couch, a box of tissues nearby, and a beer bottle, half-drunk, on the coffee table in his living room. He is already hard and aching in his underwear from the anticipation and knowledge of what will come, already without his usual slacks on and with his shirt unbuttoned to expose his beating chest. 

You should have called him by now, so why haven’t you? He impatiently shifts a little on the spot. To distract himself, he takes another sip of his beer and drums his fingers on his thigh to not think about the iron grip you have around his balls. 

You have had him in the palm of your hand like this for almost two months now. You call once a week, every Wednesday after your boyfriend has gone to bed, and then you beg him to talk you through it and remind you of how he used to fuck you when you were together. The first time around, you had said that he was the only one who knew your pussy well enough to do it and his ego soared above the clouds. 

Lucien knows it is wrong but the forbidden nature of what you are doing makes him have the best jerk-off sessions of his life. He doesn’t care about your motives, can’t be bothered to even ask because it is none of his business and he gets to come. People suck and fuck, it is in their nature, so he has no intention of playing the detective.

He adjusts himself in his briefs as an excuse to touch himself, hissing bitterly as time goes by without you, and he cannot keep himself from palming his cock through the straining fabric. He lets his head fall backward on the back of the couch, a groan slipping past his lips as he starts touching himself on top of his underwear. Steadily, a patch of his precome forms on the front because you are dancing naked and sexy behind his lids in his mind. 

The phone ringing nearly has him coming from the surprise because he has worked himself to the edge without even holding his dick in his fist. He swears under his breath, removing his hand to frantically search for his phone on the sofa only to find that it has slipped into the space between the two cushions. 

He answers with annoyance, “Where the fuck have you been?”

“Got held up,” you don’t apologize. He notices your ragged breathing almost immediately, can almost feel it against his ear and through the receiver. You are panting a little, probably flustered, cute, and wet from having been denied him like he has been denied you.

“Started without me?” He asks with a shit-eating grin, clenched fist lying along his side despite wanting to finish the handjob he was imagining you giving him.

“Not exactly,” you say without elaborating and the water in your shower turns on in the background. It is different from your usual pattern. Usually, you use the toy that you keep in bathroom drawers next to your hairdryer. 

Lucien narrows his eyes in suspicion. When you refrain from answering a second too long, his eyes widen when he figures it out.

“You little whore,” he smiles into the phone after the initial shock settles. In his underwear, his cock moves involuntarily at the thought of how used and desperate your pussy must be now, “You’re freshly fucked, aren’t you?”

“Stop,” you whimper with shame at his crude words.

“So how was he? And why do you even need me?” He pushes your patience, gives in to temptation, and lifts his hips to shove his briefs down over his thighs. His cock springs free and stands in the air in its touch-starved state, the head reddened from having been edged once.

You are silent for a moment but then sigh in defeat, sounding annoyed but it can only be with yourself from the words that leave your mouth and stroke Lucien’s ego dangerously, “He was fine but he can’t make me come.”

“That’s what I thought,” he says triumphantly, squeezing around the base of his excited cock. He gets comfortable on the couch, scooting towards the edge a little, “So tell me what you need, baby. Are you getting out the toy?”

“No, I need to clean up,” you tell him. He groans when he realizes you are probably naked on the other end of the line, most likely dripping with your boyfriend’s come - you always liked getting creampied when you were with him - and feeling horny out of your mind because your boyfriend has left you unsatisfied. He’d never do you dirty like that; clit throbbing with the need to get its sweet release, blood rushing through your lower body until it aches and has you squeezing your thighs together. 

“Tell me what you’re doing,” he orders to find out exactly how far you are in your session, not wanting to start without you in case he comes too soon. He hears you stand in the tub to detach the shower head from the wall. 

“Using the shower head,” you say simply and he spots a bead of precome running down the side of his dick, “It’s quick and easy.”

“So you have that in common,” he smiles at the scoff you let out, hearing the sound of water hitting the bottom of the tub while you move to lie down on your back. He dares a few strokes to his cock, his heartbeat all over his body, “You make it so difficult to wait. Need to hear you.”

“Gimme a moment,” you reply and there’s more shuffling, “There’s actually a lot at risk taking my phone with me in he— mhm…”

Lucien nearly loses his mind at your soft moan. He squeezes his cock again, wanting to tell it to calm down like he would a happy and excited dog. He breathes your name slowly. 

“Talk me through it,” he demands as he touches himself carefully, “Fuck, I’m so hard.”

“I’ve turned on— oh god, the jet stream,” you sigh in satisfaction, giggling a little like all his snark is forgiven now that pleasure starts flowing through you, “It’s so good, I wish you could feel it.”

Lucien swears under his breath, moving his hand languidly up and down his cock until his pelvis starts moving involuntarily. How he misses being inside of you, feeling you giggle like that when he gets you in the mood. He had never imagined that it would be hearing you use the shower head to come that would make him all nostalgic. 

“You are so fucking adorable when you get your clit played with,” he muses with a slightly breathless voice. 

“And I still smile when I come,” you say and he tenses up when the image flashes in his head. It doesn’t help when you moan a little louder, “It’s really intense.”

“How the hell are you doing that?” He groans. He strokes a little faster, trying not to get lost in the relief that it brings to finally get himself off in case he doesn’t concentrate properly.

“It’s just moving the stream up and down on my clit,” you explain, breathing heavily into the receiver, “The water feels warm and— oh, Luce.”

“And?” He almost gasps for breath by now, heart slamming against his ribs. 

“And then I just hold it steady when I’m just about to—“ you are interrupted by a sudden loud moan and he knows that you have moved the stream to your center, letting the water pound down on your clit until you cannot help lifting your hips towards more. 

He cannot help himself; his imagination goes wild. It wasn’t supposed to happen so quickly and he almost wants to mourn that it’s almost over. He speaks filth as his cock throbs from teetering on the edge together with you.

“Is the orgasm I’m giving you gonna make that little pussy cry?” He asks with a mocking tone, a moan slipping from his lips as pleasure starts to build at the bottom of his spine. He can see your pussy in his head, spasming with each excited jump of your clit, “You gonna spill his come all over the bathtub?”

“I’m giving me this orgasm,” you correct him during your climbing cries, panting into the phone and he starts going faster on his dick to meet you there. Fuck, he loves coming alongside you. 

“Bullshit. Say I’m the best you’ve ever had,” he barks out and follows it up with a desperate swear, reaching up to focus on the head so he doesn’t have to move his hand a lot. He closes his eyes and he can see you, brows furrowed and eyes rolling back as if you are possessed by pleasure. 

“You’re the best I’ve ever had,” you don’t even hesitate to respond. He can hear that you have started to hold your breath, gasping for air every few seconds, and he knows you’ll come even if you didn’t announce it like you always do for him.

“I’m gonna—“ you gasp again and he knows you’re concentrating on getting there. Another gasp and he knows you are quivering, “Gonna come. Fuck, Luce, I’m gonna come. Gonnacomegonnacomegonnacome, I— ah!”

He remembers what your face is like when you peak - that dirty little smile that turns into furrowed brows - and the image of the last time he had you on your back with him pops into his head. He can’t contain himself anymore, hearing you sob through the water cascading down on your swollen clit, knowing your thighs are tense, and your cunt is pushing out the last evidence of another - more unworthy - man. His balls draw up, his dick throbs and then he grunts a fuuuck as come shoots from the tip of his dick. He strokes himself through it, timing it with each spurt of white from his cock until he has milked himself dry and he grows so sensitive that he has to stop.

“All I have to do is ask you, isn’t it? Then you’d leave him,” he taunts you as you both come down from your orgasm, breathing softly against each other’s ears through the receiver. You usually hold a hand over your mound as you relish in aftershocks, sometimes daring to touch your overstimulated clit to see if it’s all over. 

“Luce,” you drag out his name with a breathy moan and he knows you are doing exactly what he imagined. There’s a hint of annoyance in your tone because how dare he remind you of such a true fact? 

“What?” He challenges, pulling a few tissues out of the box on his coffee table. He has the phone neatly tucked between his shoulder and head as he wipes himself down and tries not to hiss at the sensitivity, “Don’t deny it.”

“Fuck you,” you say bitterly, “I’m hanging up the phone now.”

“You want it so badly,” he continues to taunt. He throws the crumpled tissues onto the coffee table (he’ll clean it up later), “Why don’t you break up with your little boyfriend and then come over so I can get you fucking pregnant?”

“Lucien,” you say his name sharply, “Stop it. I can’t do that.”

“I would stop if that’s what you really want,” he replies, amused. He loves shocking you. 

You fume quietly on the other end, “I’ll call you next week.”

He doesn’t manage to answer with some other bratty remark as the line disconnects. However, he isn’t worried because he knows you will… and he knows he is right.

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