#lucien de leon x f!reader
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
he knows (lucien x f!reader)
(lucien x f!reader) | wc: 3.2k | other fics | pic from here
UH HEY! Iâm just gonna drop this here and scurry away to finish the other lucien one shot that i also started today, âŠ.and then iâll return to finishing divorced dad rock joel, and responding to all of the lovely people on hereâbut, like, i really just need this guy in the most emotionally unavailable and fuckable way, i hope one of y'all gets me
tags/warnings/thots: 18+/explicit, smut, toxic ex/fuckboy lucien, sex instead of communicating or processing emotions, angst but we fuckinâ and thatâs the whole plot, we hit raw in my fics bc of my imaginary latex aversion or something, crying, biting, dom lucien vibes (? i never know when thatâs the right tag), big dash of pls sexy man fuck the feelings away, tell me if thereâs something i should add Â
â no editing, no thinking, wrote this in a fever dream while staring at one of the new gifs all afternoon, idk his character! I havenât watched anything! i just saw the chains and the face and let the horny devil in charge of my sole brain cell take the lead, aka he's my barbie, i was trying to challenge myself to just do something short like 1k- but, uhhhh itâs only 3!Â
seeking feedback though (as always) so i can improve!! tell me all ur thots pls!Â
âI know,â Lucien argues, âbut I never meant to hurt you.âÂ
âI donât care anymore.â You speak plainly. Small and quiet. Without conviction. Apathetic. Honest.Â
âAnymore?âÂ
âBaby, please.â He looks at you with those stupid round eyes. Heâs effortlessly put together like the wrinkles in his silk shirt were approved by a team of stylists to give him a hint of carelessness. Your incessant attraction to an emotionally unavailable man, it pulls you toward him like a bitter fate. Your therapist, Angie, says you need to learn how to find healthy attachment attractive, but if you shudder with disgust at the thought then whatâs the point?Â
âJust listen to me,â he continues, talking in circles. Apologizing without taking accountability. Explaining away everything. His behaviors, words, decisions. Apparently, he floats through life at the whim of others. Like one of those ugly deep sea creatures, he tempts you like a glowing lure in the dark. Your eyes glaze over, everything shifting out of focus as you dissociate in your living room. No matter how numb you are, he calls to you.Â
You arenât listening to the words. They donât matter. It doesnât matter if his tone is sincere or if itâs thick with flattery and empty promises. Itâs more basic than that. Simple. The timbre of his voice. Unique to him. Imprinted in the chambers of your heart. A sharp ache spears through you, and something cracks. A fat, hot, tear escapes. With your shoulders drooping, staring at the ground, the tear falls, splashing on the floor.Â
When you look up, meeting his eyes, itâs over. Lucien pulls you close, wrapping his heavy arms around your frame, bracing for the crescendo, keeping you steady. Tears stream endlessly, flooding down your cheeks, sticking to your face and his neck as you bury your face into his warm skin. Heâs still trying to placate you, speaking nonsense, thinking he can comfort you. Thinking he knows why youâre upset. Thinking he understands you.Â
When your therapist asked you to define love you had described it as being understood. Being seen. Being known. Being considered and prioritized.Â
Lucien thinks he knows you. Thinks he understands you. Does he think he loves you?Â
Following this line of thought hurts. Splitting you open, a raw beating heart, glistening, thumping, full of life, or a meal fresh and hot for a carnivore to tear into with its sharp fangs. Plump muscle, rich and dark, bleeding out, helpless. Snapping back into reality you shake, a violent sob racking your diaphragm as the pads of his fingers massage the back of your neck. Soothing. Coaxing.Â
You want it sharper. Rough. Violent. Distracting. Painful. Anything. With wet lashes, swollen eyes, and ragged breath you become fixated. Licking the salty tears from the dip where his neck meets his shoulder, you can feel his muscles and tendons beneath the flesh. So human and alive. He strokes his hand down your spine, attempting to pacify you, but it sparks something lurid and ravenous, instead.Â
You graze your teeth along his neck. âWhat are you doing?â he mutters the question over the top of your head. Maybe he does know you. âWhat do you need?â He growls, lowly, the hand he traces your spine with trails lower this time. Heâs gluttonous and torrid. A hair-trigger to shift from his concern for your pain and the hole in your heart to a sordid desire to mollify you with his fingers and his cock.Â
Maybe itâs a perversion, the tangled experience of despair and desire, the duet of anger and arousal, the sick escape using sex to skip over the emotional suffering. But itâs exactly what you want. Itâs the root of the fucked up toxicity. Of everything wrong between you. He does know. He does understand. The same heat that flickers in your core sparks in his.Â
Voracious and brash. You bite down, sinking your teeth into his neck, igniting a wildfire. An untamable beast. Again and again and again. Biting, sucking, kissing. His skin tender and raw, your lips wet and swollen. You run a hand along the back of his neck, tugging into his hair, anchoring your grip, and pulling a husky groan from his throat.Â
âWhat do you need?â Lucien repeats, this time with a sharper edge. He detaches you from the safety of the crook of his neck. His two hands. Unnecessarily large, warm, and steady brace either side of your jaw, his fingers wrapping behind your neck. He holds you in front of his face. Vulnerable. Messy. Heat radiates from your cheeks. You release a shaky breath.Â
âDonât make me say it.â Itâs a whisper. Pleading and demanding at the same time.Â
The cocky smirk that spreads on his face is sickening. It makes you want to slap him, to hear the crack of your palm against his cheek. It makes you want to surrender. Soft and pliable, ready to please and earn praise. It makes you want to scream. To bite him so hard you draw blood. To fuck him until he canât talk.Â
You tell him all of it. Exactly what you need, what you want, what you refuse to say. You tell him all through your kiss. The hunger in your lips as you press them to his, the violence on your tongue, the desperate and vulnerable need to be cared for in the soft moans that rise from your chest, from your heart, from the blood in your veins. He chases all of it. The punishment and pleasure.Â
He backs you into the kitchen, caging you against the counter like a scene from a movie. Impervious to whatever protest you make as he clears space, blindly sweeping his arm over the counter before lifting you onto it. The edge of the counter digs into your soft thighs, but it doesnât matter. Youâre ready to drown in the vanilla musk and bourbon-spiced scent of him. The bass in his voice that makes your eyes fall shut and your head tip back against the cupboard behind you. The bruising pressure of his grip that he knows you crave.Â
âBaby,â he croons. His words are soft and gentle. As if he propped you on the counter to tend to your wounds. But his hands show no mercy. Roughly ridding you of your clothes. Dropping them into a pile on the floor. Heâs ruthless with you. In ways you canât be with yourself. In ways other lovers could never master. Harsh without being cruel. Deliberate without a plan.Â
He lets you tug his shirt over his head. Skin to skin the intensity is primal. âFuck,â is all you can manage to say. The heat is overwhelming, prickling your nerves and sharpening every sensation. Lucien toys with you like itâs his favorite game. Alternating.Â
First, palming reverently at the flesh, sweeping his tongue over your hard nipples, and teasing the wet skin with his hot breath.Â
You let him make the decisions. Take the lead. Youâre done arguing, done thinking, done with the guilt of letting him in the door, done with acting like youâre any better than him. You brace yourself, one palm flat on the counter, the other resting on his shoulder. Taking whatever he gives.Â
He switches up. Everything becomes pointed and precise. He sucks marks into your skin on the underside of your breasts. He pinches and flicks the pert bud of your straining nipples. The contact of his fingers, tongue, and teeth sends white-hot jolts of electricity straight to your cunt. He bites down hard enough to make you choke on a moan. Your whine fills the room, twisted with pain and pleasure.Â
âYou poor thing,â he purrs. Your face is still wet from your tears. But now theyâre tears of frustration. âJust a mess.â You reach for his belt, impatient, but he stops you. Heâs not done looking. He lifts one of your legs, propping your foot onto the counter and posing you obscenely in front of him. His gaze makes your pussy throb.
Heâs torn.Â
Studying your face. Everything unsaid in your eyes. The anguish and rage. The acerbic disdain. The nearly imperceptible longing.Â
Admiring your sex, spread open for him. Shining with your arousal. Swollen, slick lips so sensitive for him. Your core, fluttering with anticipation, achingly empty without him.Â
He holds your chin between his thumb and curled forefinger. His eyes swirl with lust and something you canât quite place. âYou have no idea,â he rasps. âNo idea how much it fucking kills me to see you like this. And knowing Iâm the reason why.âÂ
You donât know if he means it breaks his heart to see the way you suffer or if he means the sight of you dripping on the counter has him so hard it hurts. You donât know which youâd believe anyway. Heâs not hard up to find someone else to torment or to fuck. That thought makes your throat dry.Â
âI canât stay away from you,â he traces his fingers down your soft inner thigh, closer and closer to where you need him. âHow could I?â You tip your head to the side, your limbs and head feel heavy, drunk on a cocktail of everything you love and hate about him all at once.Â
âThen donât.âÂ
Your reply makes him smile again. Heâs so handsome when he smiles itâs infuriating. âYou could scream at me, kick me out, hate meâbut you still let me touch you, you need me to touch you. Why do I love that so much?âÂ
âYou like feeling important.â You let your snarky comment out without thinking. His question was definitely rhetorical. A few emotions flicker across his face before, a dark little smirk curls the corner of his mouth.Â
He feeds off of your challenge. âThere she is.âÂ
âI never left,â you snap, frustration spilling over. He laughs, loose and easy.Â
âListen to me,â Lucien says, low and velvety. Subduing you with the tension and proximity. âI know. You want me to use you. Like youâre my toy. Until you canât keep those beautiful eyes open.â
âYes.âÂ
âI know.â He echoes. Then he closes the gap, kissing you with affection. Holding himself back, but you arenât reserved. Youâre greedy; you want it harder. He just said heâd ruin you, why is he being so gentle? He pulls back with something sincere in his eyes. A whimper falls from your lips, pouty and baffled.Â
âGonna fuck you like Iâm trying to ruin you, baby.âÂ
You narrow your eyes at him. Sometime soon, hopefully? You donât snap again, answering with another yes.Â
He leans in, breath fanning hot over your ear. âBut, we both know that tonight youâre the one using me. Ruining me. Iâm your toy.âÂ
Your breath hitches at that. You mouth I know in response, not even able to whisper it. He doesnât need to hear you say it. He nips your ear lobe and you loose a surprised cry before gasping out his name.Â
Heâs swift now. Purposeful. Undoing his belt, shoving his pants down and revealing his cock. Reflexively your hips tense and shift. Just looking makes you salivate. He runs his thumb over the bead of precome, drawing it along his length.Â
He knows how you want it. His fingers can coax you to an orgasm in no time, but you donât want that. You want the resistance, the stretch, the dull ache, and intensity as your muscles work to let him in deeper. Nobody makes you feel the way he does. Full. Complete. Mindless.Â
It could be pornographic, vulgar, raunchy. The way he pushes your inner thigh further open with one hand while he uses the other to languidly stroke himself. The way he grips himself so tightly like heâs punishing himself. The way his jaw hangs slack and he mutters under his breath about how badly you need him.Â
To you, however, itâs a profound admission. A candid confession. The more he goads you the more it solidifies that heâs the one that needs you. That it flows so easily from him because heâs really talking about himself.Â
âYou say you donât care anymore, but look at you now, baby.â He shifts closer, at counter height youâre aligned perfectly. He glides the head of his cock up and down the folds of your soaked cunt. You shudder and moan, mesmerized by the sight.Â
âItâs almost sad how much you need me, like you canât breathe without this,â he keeps talking.Â
He demands that you watch, as if there was a chance you could stop, as he lines up and sinks into you. You groan in unison. Youâre so tight, he draws back out. Repeating the same motion, feeding his cock into you deeper and deeper each time. Your hot, plush walls pulse around him, adjusting. When he finally meets the end of you, he hums, pleased. âYou feel that?âÂ
You bob your head, nodding, agreeing. âYes.â Your voice is breathy. âPerfect.â You grind against him as if you could take him any deeper, begging him to move with your needy display. Itâs wholly overwhelming as is, every nerve within you alight as his cock kicks within you, tensing with the same craving to move.Â
He takes your hand in his, nestling your fingers around him. Somehow he feels even larger than he looks, like he shouldnât be able to fit inside of you, but here you are feeling it and seeing it for yourself. Slowly, Lucien tilts his hips, almost pulling out of you completely before plunging in with force. He keeps up the tantalizing pace, guiding you to touch yourself. He watches your fingers with rapt attention, bracing a hand on your hip to keep you in place as he drives into you with another snap of his hips that edges you closer.Â
He gradually speeds up, a master at tempering his desire. Your hip flexor aches as you hold yourself in place but it doesnât matter. You find your rhythm as he holds steady at a pace that has him landing brutal thrusts that force the words out of your lungs. Soft ohâs and fuckâs pour out of you, under your breath, adding fuel to the fire blazing between you.Â
Lucien savors your chanting and the image of you fixed in place, taking him eagerly. Your fingers move with urgency, chasing the release that looms closer and closer. Your mind is blissfully blank, reduced to something animalistic, removed from the burden of your history. âDonât stop,â you plead, âIâm so close.âÂ
He doesnât stop. He fucks you at the same pace, all the way through it. As you contract around him, when everything pulls taut and snaps within you, crying out his name, when itâs too sensitive and you whip your hand away, and as you shudder and breathe deeper and deeper. As the ache in your legs from being spread wide open returns and your ass feels numb where the edge of the counter digs into your flesh. Another tear spills from the corner of your eye, but you canât say what itâs from anymore.Â
When you fidget, he stops moving, letting you readjust. A sheen of sweat glistens all over your chest and youâre suddenly acutely aware of how loud the slick noises between you are. How easy it is to get lost in Lucien's hot and heavy magnetism. You know you were falling apart before he propped you up on the counter, but youâre sure youâre a complete wreck now.Â
Lucien pulls out but then leans against you, pinning the length of his cock between you, hot, slick, and messy against your sweat-damp skin. He floods your senses, all you can see, hear, and smell. Caging you in his hand find a possessive hold on you, one wrapped around the back of your neck, one wrapped tight around your thigh as you hitch it around his hip.Â
âYou feel good?â he asks. You hum in agreement. You do feel good. You know heâs not done yet, and smile wide, still hungry for more. âHow good?â he asks and you know thereâs something coming next.Â
âSo good.â You trail a hand between you, drawing a line down his chest and back up to cradle his cheek in your palm. Something about the prickle of his facial hair along your palm feels so natural, domestic, and sweet. Youâre tempted to kiss his cheek, nuzzle against his ear, and ask him to take you to bed. But you canât. Youâll never have that. Instead, you bait him. âI think youâre holding back though, I know you can fuck me harder than that.âÂ
He scoffs, unamused, blowing a hot puff of air between you. His fingers dig deeper into your thigh, applying the kind of pressure that stirs arousal low in your belly.Â
The dark glint in his eye gives you butterflies. âI will, Baby,â his rumbling voice is innately sensual, but the condescension in his tone makes you tingly. Youâre so close to him that you can feel his heart beating in his chest, you can feel the same pulse thrumming in his cock, still flush against you as he slants his lower half along yours. Heâs all things heavy and firm, strong and sculpted, yet fitting so naturally against you. You need more, wriggling and squirming against him, you canât contain the restlessness.Â
âYou know,â he says slowly, drawing your eyes back to his. âYou can keep trying to move on, but no one else will ever know you like this. No one else will ever ruin you the way I do. You can tell me you donât care anymore, but youâll never let anyone else in the way you let me. They wonât touch that part of you, the one thatâs mineâbecause itâll always be mine.âÂ
It trickles through you slowly until your blood feels like itâs boiling. Theyâre tears of anger now. Itâs like a sick double entendre.Â
âI know,â your words are steeped in every emotion cascading through you.Â
You donât know if itâs worse that heâs right. That thereâs a Lucien-shaped mark imprinted on your heart that will never fade. Or if itâs worse that he doesnât even know it applies to him just the same. That he always comes back because heâs trying to fill the same void.Â
Maybe he does know. Maybe he does know and this is all he can do to make it up to you.Â
Maybe thatâs why he leads you to your bedroom and lives up to his word.Â
Why he fucks you so hard you see stars. Why he doesnât stop even after he comes deep inside of you with a possessive always gonna be mine. Why he litters your skin with more false promises and confessions. Why he gives you so many orgasms you lose track.Â
Maybe thatâs why heâs still there when the sun starts to peek through your window. Why he fucks you slowly when youâre too tender and exhausted to take him any harder until youâre floating in limbo between a dream and reality. Why he stays there, just cradling your back into his chest and listening to the rhythm of your breath.Â
Maybe he does know.Â
PLEASE COME YELL WITH ME ABOUT THIS FICTIONAL GUY BC I NEED HIM IN A SUPER NORMAL WAY or tell me if my writing was incoherent or if you can't relate to the toxic ex that is still the best fuck of your life (cruel and twisted fr)
dividers by @/cyberangel-graphics
tags for the babes that let me annoy them with my thots <3
@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange @itwasntimethatdidit40 @ivoryandflame
@magneticecstasy @indiegirlunited @syd-djarin
#lucien de leon x f!reader#pedro pascal character smut#lucien de leon x reader#lucien de leon x you#pedro pascal#ppcu fanfic#pwp fic#the uninvited#lucien flores#but not#lucien x f!reader
380 notes
·
View notes
Text
fourth time's the charm
lucien de leon x f!reader
summary: when you turn up for your reservation, you don't expect him to be there. uninvited.
warnings: 18+. smut. bathroom smut. dislike to lovers? wordcount: 5.5k an: thank you to @secretelephanttattoo for letting me be delusional for several days and also to @pedgito who without, i wouldn't had the courage to do part one in the first place. **there's NO spoilers for the film in this oneshot. you do not need to read part one, but it might help.
READ ON AO3
#lucien flores x reader#lucien flores x you#lucien de leon x reader#lucien de leon x f!reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal#the uninvited#lucien de leon x you#lucien de leon#pedro pascal characters#lucien flores smut#pedro pascal character smut#lucien flores fanfic#lucien flores x y/n#pedro pascal fanfic#jo: meets in sequence
256 notes
·
View notes
Text
THE PARTY || Lucien De Leon x f!reader || 580 words
Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, NON CON, unspecified age gap, unprotected piv.
Hugs and kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta readingđ
****
Your red lipstick is smeared all over his palm, but youâre not screaming anymore. Not with the way his thick cock slides in and out of your treacherously wet pussy.
âYeah - yeah - yeahâŠâ Lucien rasps into your ear with every thrust, âya like it? Good girl.â
His strong fingers are digging into your left thigh leaving marks and pain in their wake as heâs holding your leg against his hip, opening you up for him to fuck. His fist bunches up the skirt of your red dress, the color of the flower he plucked off a bush for you just a few minutes ago. You thought he was sweet, not expecting him to turn into this monster, eyes boring into yours, gaze dark, carnal, hungry, as heâs ruthlessly using your pussy for his pleasure.
You should scream, must scream but canât. Lucienâs pounding into you by the wall in a dark corner of the garden, and all you can do is whimper and take it like a good girl. Like he told you to.
Youâre not sure anyone will hear you anyway, his violent act is concealed by the loud music of the party.
âPrancing aroundâŠtits almost outâŠswaying your sexy assâŠbeen asking for it all night, little slut,âheâs growling in your ear as he slightly lifts your body against the wall, plunging his cock even deeper inside your channel. You cry out and start moaning clutching his silky shirt as his fat tip abuses your cervix with sharp strokes.
âMade me so hardâŠFuck, youâre tight, baby.â
âStopâŠ,â you mewl helplessly but even you donât believe yourself. Your mind has shut down some time ago, making you concentrate on the pleasure coursing through your body and relieving your psyche from the horror of his lewd act. At least for now.
Lucien laughs at your plea, the hoarse sound interrupted by his breathy moan as his cock finally erupts and he shoots his cum deep inside your burning core.
He pumps you full of his warm seed still rolling his hips as your pussy squelches around his pulsating length.
Finally he stills, pulls his cock out and lowers you down. Your shaky legs give up and you would surely fall if not for his strong arms catching you and holding you up.
He chuckles through the heavy panting,
âFucked you good, huh?â
You try to stumble away from him but he pushes you back against the wall, pinning you to the cold hard surface yet again.
âDid you come? Donât think so,â he says lifting up your skirt for the second time this night and you start sobbing.
âShh, donât cryâŠmy girls always come.â
In a second his fingers are rubbing your hardened clit using his cum dripping out of your hole as lube and soon you unravel under his touch, shaking, moaning, hating him and your body for succumbing to his ministrations so easily.
Finally satisfied he slides his big hands up your sides and wraps them around your neck, thumbs gently rubbing your jaw. Cold blown eyes locked with yours, he gives your throat a light squeeze and makes your heart freeze with terror when he growls,
âOne word about this and Iâll tell your dad his little girl seduced his best friend. I still have your nudes as proof.â
He gently kisses you, taste of champagne and cigarettes on his lips, and then whispers against the corner of your mouth before leaving,
âHappy Birthday, baby.â
*****
Thank you for readingđ
Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciatedđž
MASTERLIST
General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre
#pedro pascal#lucien de leon#lucien de leon x reader#lucien flores#pedro pascal characters#tw dead dove#tw noncon#lucien flores x reader#lucien de leon x you#lucien flores x you#lucien flores x f!reader#the uninvited#dead dove do not eat#drabble#dark!lucien#lucien de leon x f!reader
588 notes
·
View notes
Text
Not Without You
Pairing:Â Lucien De Leon x f!reader (nickname: Poppy)
Word Count: 2800+Â
Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!
Warnings: Just like ao3, âcreator chooses not to use warnings.â If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that youâre the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.Â
Notes:Â Listen. I saw that clip of him making out in The Uninvited. That's it. That's the explanation. This is not betad. This one is for the sluts.
**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!
â€If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)
âTell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)
**Reader is not described
Main Masterlist
Lucien Masterlist
--------
I get out of my car, staring up at the ridiculous mansion in front of me. The sound of the ocean, just out of sight behind the giant home, is soft and gentle in my ears, calming me. Giving me a little mental boost before I sigh, smoothing down my dress. I make my way to the front door, weaving between a few cars that were parked out front. Expensive cars.
It's not that I'm jealous of my childhood friend. Emilia deserves to be happy and she's happy that she married money. Some fancy producer out here in LA that fell for her big eyes and bright smile the second he saw her.
But that doesn't mean I wanted to come to one of her dinner parties, having to schmooze and pretend to be interested in what everyone has to say. I've been here before, met the people, fucked the party boy actor that eventually broke me, and yet here I am, unable to say no to Emilia.
I raise my hand to knock, dreading what the evening will bring but the door flies open before my knuckles touch anything. Emilia stands before me, a few rollers still in her hair, stress all over her body.
"Poppy, you're early! Thank GOD!" She pulls me inside and hugs me, the door closing heavy behind me.
"I always come early because you need me," I smile as she chuckles, lightly punching my arm. "What can I do to help?"
"You're angel, I swear! Can you make sure the table settings are right? There's extra silverware in the-"
"I know, Emilia. Everything like normal?" I'd been to so many of her parties, I know exactly what the set up is.
She nods, her smile growing wider. "Keep it simple and classy. You know me!"
I nod. "So what kind of party is this one? Another schmooze for Mr.?"
She waves her hand. "Yeah something like that. He's meeting with a bunch of actors for some upcoming project. He's hand selected them."
"Cool."
Emilia thanks me again before running off to finish getting ready. I pause for a moment, looking around trying to remember where the dining room is. I head down the hall and into what I think is the dining room. It turns out I remembered correctly, my eyes roaming over the table and making small adjustments to the settings already there. I end up pulling out more silverware, fixing them to Emilia's standards. I hate that I know this stuff, but I've saved her ass more times than I can count at these things so it helps to know what to expect.
As I work, my mind goes back to all the parties past. The ones she brought me to when she first started dating the producer several years ago. She had been so nervous, as if the producer wasn't already head over heels for her. That's where I met-
No. Not going down that road again. I can't do that to myself.
I shake my head and finish the settings, adding some minor touches to the decorations and finally lighting the candles. A knock at the door brings me out of my head and I walk over to answer it. An older gentleman stands there, putting out a cigarette with his shoe. He introduces himself as the director. What an ego.
Several people arrive after him, a mix of actors and a screenwriter. They all mingle in the sitting room for a few minutes before Emilia and the producer make their way in, everyone doing introductions.
The producer claps his hands together, looking around. "We're still missing one, but I doubt he'd mind us getting started. Who's hungry?"
Everyone gives their approval but as they move towards the dining room, a knock raps on the front door.
"That should be him. Guess I tried to start too soon!" Polite laughter at the producer as Emilia moves to answer the door, a quick glance in my direction before she disappears down the hall. The producer is telling some little story about a prior movie he was involved in, one I've heard a zillion times. But his story is short and he motions behind me.
"Just in time! We were about to eat. Welcome, Lucien."
My back stiffens. The room starts to spin my chest heaving. He didn't say Lucien. Did he? Maybe it was another Lucien. It couldn't be my Lucien? No. He's not my Lucien. He made that very clear when he wanted to continue partying and I wanted to settle down.
"Perfect! I'm starving."
Fuck. There was no mistaking that voice, the one that sets my skin ablaze, makes warmth pool between my thighs, the one that told me he needed to focus on his career and couldn't be with me. Not in the way I wanted him.
A small hand on my elbow squeezes me and I know it's Emilia, gently guiding me towards the dining room.
"I'm sorry, Poppy. He invited him and I didn't make the connection until the last minute."
"You couldn't have given me a heads up?" I yank my arm from her grip and swallow hard. I can't let him see how he makes me feel. He doesn't deserve that. I turn, letting the others file past me until he stops in front of me.
"Poppy. I..I didn't know you'd be here."
I'm determined to show him how much better off I am, that he means nothing to me now. I look up into his eyes and all of my resolve goes completely out the window. Were his eyes always that big? That round? So soft? I want to yank him to me by the thin chain around his neck, press my lips to his and never let go.
Way to show him, Poppy.
"I didn't know you'd be here either."
A silence stretches between us, a heavy, loaded silence. His eyes soften the longer he looks at me and is that regret I see? No. I'm projecting. But then he offers me his arm, taking me completely by surprise.
"We can be adults. Shall we?"
Don't do it. Don't take his arm, Poppy. Don't do it, don't do it, don't-
My fingers close on his offered up arm. "I'm sure this is a great opportunity for you."
Fuck, he's still warm. His skin smooth where my fingers touch him. Way to go, Poppy.
He escorts me into the dining room and I feel Emilia's eyes glued to us. He pulls out my chair and I sit, him scooting the chair in behind me before walking around the table, looking for his name card. Which was conveniently placed directly across from mine.
The producer clears his throat after everyone sits and starts making some speech about the project, about handpicking everyone here, blah blah blah. I zone out, trying to use my peripheral to steal glances at him. It's been several years since that night we split, the yelling match that had devolved into quite possibly the hottest sex I'd ever had. No, don't think about that. I need a better look so I turn my head to take a drink and chance a glance at him, only to find him already looking at me, still with the soft eyes. I nearly choke on my drink, managing to swallow it and clear my throat.
He finishes his speech and everyone claps politely, starting to eat and talk amongst themselves. I sit, deciding to choose silence while eating but then Lucien looks directly at me.
"So, what do you think?"
"Uh what?"
Fuck him with those big, stupid eyes.
He gestures towards the producer with his fork. "The project."
"Oh. Well I'm not involved so," I shrug. "I'm just here for Emilia."
He chuckles. "How many rollers were in her hair this time?"
I laugh, my body betraying me. "Four."
"But seriously. A good project?"
"I think..I think it's an honor he hand picked you. I'm not sure what the project itself is, but I'm sure it would be great for your career."
His eyes study my face as I take a bite of my food. "It's not always about the career though."
Anger surges up through me. "Isn't it?"
"How are we doing over here?" Emilia had walked up, cutting off whatever Lucien was about to say to defend himself.
"Great, Em. I'm just going to get something from the kitchen." I set my napkin on the table and push my chair back, Emilia giving me the smallest squeeze to my arm before I turn and head into the kitchen, the door closing behind me and effectively cutting off the sounds of the dinner party.
I lean over the kitchen island, my hands splayed out over the cool marble, trying to calm myself down. I hear the door open, the chatter from the party momentarily loud again before the door swings shut and it's quiet again.
"Em, I'm fine. Really. He just...caught me by surprise. I can hold it in."
"What if I don't want you to hold it in?"
My head snaps up, meeting his gaze, embarrassment making my skin heat up. "Oh. I thought you were Emilia."
Lucien takes a few steps towards me, the light glinting off the thing chain around his neck. "You didn't answer my question."
I stand up straight, crossing my arms. "We've done this dance before, Lucien. It didn't end well."
He smirks and I want to slap him. "I think it ended just fine. In the doorway, on the floor, in the front yard. I had to move my neighbors were too jealous."
My body betrays me with a small smile at the memory but then I reign it in. "I'm still not paying for that end table."
He's closer now. When did he move closer? Almost close enough to touch. His voice is low and raspy. "I'd destroy every end table on this planet if it meant having you under me again."
Fuck. Me.
I turn away from him, not giving him the pleasure of seeing what he does to me. "Flattering. But you made it very clear I was not number one in your life."
"I was stupid. I guess I needed to prove to you, to myself, that I could actually do this acting thing."
Finally composing myself, I turn to face him. "And how'd that work out for you?"
His eyebrows furrow together. "Have you not seen any of my films?"
I had. I had seen them all. I know I shouldn't have, that it wasn't helping me get over him. But Lucien has this pull, this hold on me I've never been able to fully shake.
"Some. But I'm asking your opinion. Off camera."
His jaw ticks a moment before he takes a swig from the glass I only just realized he was holding. "It brought me here."
I scoff. "Yeah, the producer hand picking you is actually a very high honor. I'd be-"
"No, you misunderstand." He shakes his head and sets his glass down on the counter. "I lied earlier."
It was my turn to furrow my eyebrows. "When? You've lied to me a lot."
"Earlier, when I said I didn't know you'd be here. I knew, well...more like hoped you'd be here. Knew it was a long shot but the only way you'd talk to me again."
My heart was racing, nearly bouncing out of my chest as he takes another few steps right into my personal bubble, my lower back against the counter. "I already told you I'm not replacing that end table."
He's right in front of me, the warmth from his body radiating onto mine. "I was a fool, Poppy. I..I love you."
I've waited years to hear him say those words to me again, to hear him actually mean them. To hear them not sandwiched between things like "but I have to focus on my career".
His lips are so close to mine, his breath fanning over my face.
"You broke my heart, Lucien."
"I know. I'm sorry. Let me put it back together."
"Lucien, I-" but he cuts me off with the softest touch of his lips I've ever felt, a whole slew of emotions flooding my body, including the one pooling between my legs.
"I can't do this without you, Poppy."
"Do this?"
"Life. I don't want to do it without you."
Fuck.
I grip that chain around his neck and pull him to me, our lips crashing together, his body pressing into mine. But then the counter scrapes across my spine and I jolt, breaking the kiss to gasp in pain. Lucien steps back, offering me his hand.
"Let's go somewhere where we won't break the furniture."
I shouldn't take his hand. I can still back out. But a small voice in the back of my head believes that he means it. That he wants a life with me, wants what I wanted all those years ago. And right now, I'm letting that voice win. I take his hand and he smiles, that smile that makes me feel like I'm the only person in the world. He guides me out the back door, past the pool, past the changing tents between the pool and the beach, and down the walkway alongside the neighbors cement wall that leads down to the beach.
He spins me and I laugh, tasting the salty ocean air on my tongue. I back up towards the wall and he follows me, lowering himself to my level. His large hands wrap around my hips, gliding down to cup my ass, and I moan into his kiss, my hand gripping his shirt to pull him closer to me. He kisses me, his tongue sliding into my mouth like it had so many times before. One hand still firmly on my ass, the other slides up my side, cupping my face so tenderly, full of love. He pulls back slightly and looks at me, like he's shocked I'm really here. That he's really kissing me.
"I love you, Poppy. I never should have let you go."
"Then don't let me go. I've always been yours."
He kisses me again, his hips pressing into mine and I can feel him hard, my cunt desperately throbbing, begging to feel him inside me again. Somewhere in my haze of desire, I hear myself begging, whispering pleas in his ear to take me, that I need him inside me before I die. His hands slide my dress up my thighs, reaching under and ripping my underwear in two, tucking them into his pocket. He had ruined so many good pairs of my underwear that way, but I honestly couldn't care less. My fingers fumble with his zipper, but I manage to get it down, reaching in to grip him, a sharp intake of breath when my fingers close around him, pumping him a few times. His hands slide under my ass, lifting me up as he presses me against the wall. He slides into me and the world stops moving, colors are brighter, and I finally feel right, like I'm actually here on this planet. Every thrust of his hips brings him deeper into me, holding me here, holding me to him. His breath comes out in short pants, desperate pleas of love and apologies between our moans as he fucks me against the wall.
And then the light blooming inside me breaks, my head pushing back, my nails digging into his skin, my entire body tingling as pleasure radiates out from where we connect. Lucien follows suit, moaning my name as he spills himself inside of me, pushing as deep as he can. We stay like that for a moment, trying to catch our breaths.
"I want to stay inside of you but my legs are fucking shaking."
I laugh and he yelps, quickly trying to pull out of me as my laughter contracts my body around him. He sets me on the ground and zips his pants as I smoothe out my dress, my laughter slowly fading. I look at him and he looks back at me, his eyes still soft and gentle. He tucks some hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek again.
"I wasn't kidding, Poppy. I was fucking stupied before. I need you next to me. When we're together, I feel...right. like I belong here. I don't think I can face this life without you."
I know it's a possibility this will end the same way it did before, but something in his eyes is different this time. He's had time to think, time to experience life without someone with him. Without me. He's grown, matured - well, matured some at least. But do I want to open my heart back up to him? Knowing that he could shatter it again at any moment?
"I'm still not replacing that end table."
He smiles and it lights up my entire world. "That's ok. I have plenty more furniture we can ruin with our love."
-------
General Taglist:
@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed  @ladykatakuri @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol  @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry @mysterious-moonstruck-musings Â
#lucien flores x reader#lucien flores x you#lucien flores x f!reader#lucien flores x female reader#lucien flores#the uninvited#the uninvited ff#the uninvited fanfiction#the uninvited fanfic#lucien flores fanfic#lucien flores fic#Lucien Floires ff#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal character ff#pedro pascal characters#lucien de leon
250 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mutual | Lucien De Leon x f!Reader
summary: you and lucien have both been invited to this dinner with explicit instructions: play nice. but it's kind of hard when you can't stand each other. even harder when the meaning begins to blur with his hands on you.
pairing: lucien de leon x f!reader
ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. smoking, drinking. idk, hate fucking essentially. misuse of a champagne bottle, edging?, sexual tension, f!masturbation, unprotected p in v (you know what to do, and it's not this), oral (f!receiving). reader wears a dress and is implied to be shorter than lucien, but is otherwise undescribed.
wc: 4.8k
an: i succumbed.
The only thing you and Lucien De Leon have in common is the need for a cigarette after dinner.Â
Nothing else.
You stand on opposite sides of the patio outside the open glass doors which lead back into Anna and Alexâs house, and you know that Anna, at the very least, will be watching you. Making sure you play nice.
Something youâd vowed to do when sheâd called to invite you to this dinner party. Lucien will be there, sheâd said, itâd be great for me, for us, if you two just tried to get along.Â
So far, youâve succeeded. Youâd listened politely to his stories at the table, hadn't even rolled your eyes when he laughed and joked and flirted with your fellow guests. Youâd drunk your wine and stayed quiet through it all, offering your own contributions to the equal delight of the friends who'd gathered. Youâd been surprised when Lucien had smiled along with them, even going so far as to chuckle at your story about the dog next door.
And now, outside, the rule still stands. You eye each other as you smoke, finding yourself amazed again by the way he doesnât speak. Not a snide thing to say, no quip to make, just him watching you. Eyes flitting from your legs, to your hips, to your chest, to your face. And youâd tell him to quit it if you werenât doing the same thing. If you werenât enjoying the way his silk shirt hangs off his broad shoulders, the way his curls flop over his forehead, the way his chains catch the light, the way his stupid, pretty eyes glitter across from you. You hate yourself for it, want to crack some nasty sentiment across the stone, but you donât.Â
Youâre on your best behaviour, after all.
Something which Lucien has clearly forgotten as he pushes himself off from the wall heâs leaned against, stepping closer, closer to you by the bush with the red flowers. You brace yourself for whatever it is heâs about to say, for whatever smoke heâs about to blow in your face, gearing up for the taunt youâll throw back.Â
He stops before you, barely an arms length away. You tense, waiting.
He holds out the bottle of champagne heâd swiped from the table on his way out. You blink at him.
âWhat are you doing?â
âIâm playing nice.â
You stare at him, sceptical. This is not Lucien. This is not something youâre used to.
But maybe heâs trying, too.Â
You take the bottle from him, and he lets it go easily. You watch him as you bring it to your lips, tipping it up until the bright fizz of the bubbles meets your tongue. He watches your mouth, pink slip of his tongue flicking out over his bottom lip as he drops the butt of his finished cigarette to the floor, not looking where it lands. You swallow, take another gulp for good measure, and hand it back to him. His fingers graze yours as you do.Â
You freeze at the jolt of electricity his touch brings, hand remaining outstretched as he brings the bottle back to his side. You watch, aloof, as he plucks your cigarette from your fingers and flicks it into the darkness before slotting your hands together, mind swirling as he pulls you closer.
âCome on. Want to show you something.âÂ
Maybe itâs the wine, but you canât find the words to protest as he tugs you away to a deeper part of the garden.Â
Lucien turns you to face him at the furthest wall he can find, and you finally find your words as your back hits the concrete.
âWhat did you want to show me?â
You glance around behind him at the flowers that burst from the ground, bright even in the darkening half light. The water feature Alex had installed last year trickles musically somewhere to your left, though you can't see it.
His answering grin is dirty, something fluttering in your tummy as you grind your teeth, nostrils flaring. You do not have the patience for this man, or the butterflies churning in your stomach.
âLucien.â
His hands find your waist and the curve of your ass in a flurry of movement, his grip strong, the bottle cold through the material of your dress. The air leaves your lungs. He hums as he draws himself close to your lips.
âHow beautiful you look tonight.â
You snort at him, disbelieving. He canât be fucking serious.
âLucien, what the fuck -â
He cuts you off quickly, dipping to fit his mouth to yours in a searing kiss, hand moving from your ass to your jaw as he licks into your mouth. Your blood roars in your ears as your own hands scrabble to find purchase on his chest, slipping against the silk. You mean to push him away, but somehow you pull him closer, your body doing the opposite of what itâs told as you open your mouth further to him, groaning softly. He tastes like champagne and cigarettes, and you grip his neck to bring him further in, your other hand smoothing over his bunched shoulder, his strong bicep, down to his waist, fisting his shirt. He chuckles against your lips, and sharp anger surges in your gut. Shit. This is Lucien.
You use the hand at his middle to push him roughly away from you.
âGet the fuck off me.â
He smirks, one hand still on your hip as he takes a swig from the bottle of champagne. You watch him, breathing heavily, stare as his lips close around the mouth of the bottle, and you're betrayed by what youâve only pictured in your most secret moments. Your eyelids flutter, fingers twitch for him, cunt clenches around something that isn't there. He comes towards you again, and this time you close the gap, leaning forward to crash your mouth against his. You lick at the seam of his lips but he keeps them obstinately shut, and with irritation flashing through you, you drag your nails hard down his forearm in retaliation. He grips the nape of your neck, pulling your head back, and taking advantage of your open lips, spills the champagne off his tongue and onto yours. It's warm, still sparkling. Tastes like him. You swallow it down greedily, reminding yourself that you should be disgusted, certainly shouldnât be pulling him in to kiss him again, shouldnât moan so loud when he grinds his hips against yours as he rumbles how you drive him fucking insane against your neck. Shouldnât be so wet, pinned up against this wall by a man you have long held such disdain for, shouldnât grind back against him, shouldnât be panting into his mouth like some kind of dog, shouldn't be forgetting where you are, who youâre with -
This time, youâre more forceful. Lucien stumbles back with hooded eyes and shining, swollen lips, his own breathing coming fast and deep. You stare back at him, still stunned, and without meaning to, your eyes drop down to his crotch, finding the fabric there tight with his arousal. Heâs big, must be with the way his zipper is straining. Your mouth runs dry, your stomach swoops. Fuck.
You watch with as much disgust as you can manage as he palms himself roughly to relieve some of the ache, your own hands itching to do the same.
âSo pretty, baby,â he teases, stepping forwards, head falling towards yours again. Why wonât he stay away? âSo pretty, wanting me like this -â
âStop,â you hiss. Itâs unconvincing even to your ears, and he smirks like he knows. He knows. âI donât - I donât want you like this -â
He presses his forehead to yours, not touching you this time, instead letting his nose trace your cheekbone, your jaw, down to your neck.
âYou donât want me like this?â He purrs. You manage to shake your head. You can feel his smile as he laves a hungry, open-mouthed kiss to your pulse point, and you whimper, hot all over, so wet, so needy for him. He chuckles again. âNo,â he confirms. âThen maybe⊠like this.â
He sinks to his knees in front of you, curls mussed, lips parted, eyes blown. He stares up at you, reverent, taunting, as he skates his broad palms over the tops of your thighs, stroking the skin, murmuring how soft you are. Oh, and you are so fucking angry. So fucking angry as he grips and soothes your flesh, as he squeezes and kneads your ass, as you hold onto his strong shoulders and breathe his name. Even more pissed when he doesnât have some kind of asshole comment to make, furious as he leans into you and presses kisses to where his hands have been, mouthing at your skin, leaving it wet with his spit, with champagne, so fucking mad as he sips from the bottle again and spills the liquid from his mouth onto your thighs, as he kneels back to watch it trickle over your knees, down your shins, to your feet, to drip onto the floor. You are on fire.
âSee? Beautiful.â He murmurs. And oh, what youâd do. What youâd do to him. Youâd pull at his hair and scratch at his chest and bite into his neck and youâd make him suffer, make him ache, make him feel the same heat youâre feeling. You just canât seem to move.
Canât seem to move as he brings his mouth closer to your cunt, splitting the folds of your wrap dress further, pushing his hands up to your hips, holding you still as he takes in your lace panties, the only thing covering you from him. He looks up to you again, burning with desire. Your cunt pulses painfully, and you hiss his name.
He smiles, cruelly.
âRelax, sweetheart,â he murmurs, âWeâre playing nice, remember?â
Your retort dies in your throat as he presses his face to your clothed cunt and breathes in deeply. He moans loudly, and you whimper in response, hands flying to his hair at the feeling of his hot breath on you, tugging as he mouths at your pussy through the material. You feel his tongue, warm and strong, drag over the lace covering your clit and you groan, going slack against the wall. He nudges the swollen nub with his nose, his free hand coming between your legs to touch you.
âSo wet,â he breathes, âThat what Iâm doing to you?â
You shake your head no even though he canât see you, still playing with your pussy through your underwear. A plea bubbles up your throat, and you swallow it down. You will not beg Lucien Flores to touch you. You donât even know how you got here in the first place.
But thatâs forgotten as he moves again, kissing your clit through the fabric as he brings his other hand, still holding the bottle, between your legs. You hiss as he presses the lip of it to your hole, all protests forgotten as he grinds it against you, the pressure easing a small amount of the ache you feel.
You forget that itâs wrong as he uses it to push your panties to the side. Forget as he runs the cold glass through your wetness, almost do beg him to touch you, to lick you, to do something before he settles it against your slit, right where you think you might need it most.
âStill donât want me?â he breathes against your skin.
A shallow breath escapes you.
âFuck you.â You whisper, no conviction behind your words. He rests his forehead against your hip, and begins to press, begins to relieve some of that ache, that want -
âLuce?â Anna calls out from the direction of the house. You freeze, fist tightening around his curls, but Lucien is unphased, working the mouth of the bottle past the tight opening of your pussy. You gasp brokenly at the cool feel of it, fingers constricting even further. Lucien moans beneath you, moving to nose at the crease between your thigh and your cunt, pushing the neck of the bottle further in. You moan loudly, knees giving a little, and he clutches your hip tighter to keep you from falling.
âLuce?â Anna calls again, a little closer this time. You groan his name in response, torn between wanting more and wanting this to end before disaster.
The next Lucien? comes even closer, and you use your grip on his hair to pull his face away from you, tipping his head back so that he meets your eye.
âStop.â You bite out. He grins and gives one more pump of the neck of the bottle. You whimper, head falling back to the concrete behind you as he removes it completely, rising to his feet with a groan. You watch, bleary eyed, leaking, chest heaving, as he dusts off his pants and adjusts himself, his eyes never leaving yours. He steps back and away, eyes raking over your body as he raises the bottle to his mouth, licking around the neck before taking a deep drink and disappearing back up the path.
Heâs sick. You hate him.
You return to the house on shaky legs through the backdoor, hoping to make it to the bathroom, only to be intercepted by Alex. Heâs scraping leftover food into the bin, and smiles as you enter before double taking at your appearance. You must look wrecked.
âAre you alright?â He asks, brow creasing with concern.
You hum, clearing your throat before answering.
âYeah, Iâm fine.â
Alex raises an eyebrow at you.
âDid he say something to you?â he asks.
âDid he - what?â
âLucien. Did he upset you?â
You blink at him. Right. Play nice.
âI - no. He didnât. He was actually quite pleasant.â
Alex stares at you.
âPleasant?â
âYeah.â
You hold his gaze for a little longer, feel a guilty little heat crawl its way through your belly.Â
Youâre warm, so unbearably warm.
âIs it alright if I go and lay down upstairs for a bit?â You ask. âI feel kind of funny.â
Alex frowns, placing the plate he was holding on the counter.
âSure,â he says, âDo you need anything?â
You smile weakly, shaking your head.
âNo,â you reassure him, âThatâs okay, thank you. I just need a moment.â
The guest room on the top floor is cool, and the curtains are open. Warm, orange light floods in from the street outside, and you settle yourself on the middle of the bed, ready to get this over with. Thereâs no way you can go back downstairs with this need, this coil wound so tight in your belly. You swoop your palms over your body, nipples tightening beneath your dress, feeling the swirl, the drip of yourself between your legs. You grind the heel of your palm against your mound and moan softly, rucking your dress up to your hips so you can slip your fingers beneath the lace.
Fuck, you are so wet. So goddamn turned on by that stupid man that you may as well throw your underwear away. You sweep a finger over your clit, hips twitching at the contact, eyes falling shut as you dip the digit to your entrance to collect your arousal, working the nub in tight circles.Â
Your legs fall slack as you build yourself up, moans falling from your mouth in quick succession as you imagine what it would have been like to have him take you there, against the wall. What it would have been like to be fucked with the bottle, to have his tongue really on you, mimicking your movements now, to fall apart against his mouth, see him pull away with your slick covering his face. You rock your hips against your hand, quickening your movements, fingers dipping in and out of your slit between working your clit as the coil tightens and tightens, as the hot, heavy feeling grows and grows, as sweat beads at your temples and the valley between your breasts, as you try not to moan his name -
Like youâve summoned him, Lucien clears his throat in the doorway.Â
You snap your legs shut, heart hammering in your chest, heat blooming through your cheeks.
âYou fucking - asshole -â you seethe, and he laughs, eyes roving over your sweaty body. âGet out.â
âWanted to check you were alright.â
You gape at him.
âFucking bullshit, Lucien,â you grit, snatching your hand out of your soaked cunt. You bundle it in the silk of your dress as you try to cover yourself, but his eyes follow, tracing the glint of your slick in the dim light.Â
âSeems like youâre okay, though,â he continues, slouching against the doorframe. âJust look like you could do with some help.â
You choke on a laugh, frozen, glaring at him from the bed. He bites his lip.
âYouâre fucking insane.â
âInsane enough to fuck you.â
You inhale sharply, trying to ignore the flash of arousal that shoots through you, clenching your jaw.
âYou are not going to fuck me.â
Lucien steps away from the doorframe, moving into the room, letting the door fall shut behind him. Without looking, he reaches out with one hand and twists the lock with a click.Â
He comes towards you slowly, eyes hungry. Your heart is in your mouth as you watch him, adrenaline kicking in so hard even youâre not sure what you want. Arenât sure whether you can admit what you want.Â
He reaches the end of the bed before dropping a knee onto the mattress, reaching out to grab an ankle, pulling your leg flat. You burn at the feel of him holding you, preventing you from moving, from hiding.
âThen stop me.â
You donât. You canât as he crawls his way up your body, as he touches every inch of skin he can so gently, so delicately. Fresh slick pools out of you at the feeling, at the sight -Â
His stupid puppy dog eyes and floppy curls and broad shoulders beneath his silk shirt, silk shirt that looks like sin as it drapes over him, moves with him like water, and his chains, his chains, how theyâd look swinging over you as he buries himself inside you, raw and hungry and -
You canât stop the moan that slips from your lips as his hand cups your cunt, as his mouth finds your neck. Body quickly liquid, molten beneath his touch, legs falling open.
âPlease -â it slips from your mouth before you can stop it, but it feels good, finally, to have him give you what you need.
âGood girl,â he says, âPlaying so nice.â
He slips his hand beneath the lace of your panties, trailing two fingers through your arousal, mirroring your moan as he does. He circles your clit, dragging you back to where you were, drinking down your noises with his mouth close enough to swallow your breath, but not close enough to kiss. You stare up at him, eyes wide, mouth open, a line forming between your brows. You gasp, so pretty, and he hums, slowing his movements to an agonising pace before slipping them from your heat entirely. You whine at the loss, huffing against the mattress, pouting at him pathetically as he smiles down at you.
âLetâs get these off.â
He kneels back to pull your underwear away from you, and you wriggle at the cool air that comes into contact with your cunt. You watch, breathless, as he bundles them up and slips them into his back pocket, irritated, but not irritated enough to demand them back. They were expensive.
He drinks in the sight of your bare pussy with ravenous eyes, resting his cheek against the flesh of your thigh. The scruff of his beard tickles and scratches, the feel of it so Lucien, but you can't find it within yourself to care. He brings a single finger up to trace through your folds, and you whine desperately, embarrassingly at the sensation.
âPretty enough to make a grown man cry, baby,â he hums, nuzzling your thigh as he blinks up at you with burning eyes. âYou ever made a man cry before?â
âYeah,â you breathe, âWanna see if I can make you cry, too?â
He grins, a dirty little thing, before closing his teeth over the soft skin at your hip. You moan again, and he leans in closer, licking a long, hot, wet stripe from your hole to your clit. You shudder, a broken sound escaping your mouth. God, what is wrong with you?
âSo sweet,â he murmurs, âYou always this wet when someone teases you?â
You arch your back against him, head turning in the sheets.
âNo,â you groan, âGet this wet when Iâm about to make myself come.â
He huffs a laugh against you before driving his tongue against your clit, sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth. He is hot and wet against you, so strong and soft like velvet as he tastes you, holds your thighs apart with his strong hands, fingers pressing in so hard youâre sure theyâll bruise. You writhe beneath him, hands flying to his hair, grinding up into his face. He licks and licks, devouring you, moving his head from side to side, gripping your hips to keep you moving against him as he quickly builds you again back to your high, sliding two fingers inside easily, curling them up into the spot deep inside you.Â
You canât tear your eyes away from him, the strong curves of his body, the sweat on his forehead, the way his eyelids flutter at your noises, those deep brown eyes watching you with something carnal, something possessive in them.
You whine and moan above him, keening as he reaches his other hand up to swipe a thumb over your nipple, pinching it as you plead for more, as you tighten around his fingers, as you flood his mouth, as the toil tightens again, as you teeter on the edge -
Lucien pulls his mouth from you with a wet sound, withdrawing his fingers at the same time.Â
You cry out.
âNo,â you whimper, âNo, Lucien, please -â
âAtta girl,â he says, âI knew you could ask nicely. Knew youâd beg.â
Your back flies off the mattress as you reach to claw at him, ready to rip him to shreds, but heâs too quick, kneeling back again to undo his belt, unzip his fly, pull himself out, and oh -
Oh. Fuck. Heâs big. The heavy weight of him held in his fist as he pumps himself slowly over you turns your clawing into gentler hands, and he moves so you can wrap yourself around his cock. He feels like silk, so close to his shirt, rock-hard and twitching as you move your hand languidly up and down his length, squeezing, swiping your thumb over his tip as it drips precum. It's hard not to admire him like this, hard to remember why you hate him so much. The ache between your legs borders on unbearable.
He groans loudly, rocking his hips before wrapping his hand around yours, untangling your fingers to hold himself again, guiding his cock towards your entrance. He runs his length back and forth between your folds, covering himself in your slick, feeling your clit twitch beneath him until you beg again - âPlease, Lucien, please - fuck me -â before heâs sliding home in one long stroke.
The air is knocked from you at the feeling, at how full you are. He hinges to cage you with his arms, and you clutch at his shirt as he begins to move, slow, so slow. He licks his lips as he watches your face, your mouth in a little âoâ, neck straining against the pillow, and you move a hand to the back of his neck, wanting to kiss him, wanting to taste him, taste him taste of you. You want to take his plush bottom lip between your teeth and hold it there, hold it there until you taste blood. Bu he picks up the pace, thrusting harder and faster, and you lose your grip, back arching as the delicious burn returns yet again.
âFuck -â you gasp, âHoly fuck, Lucien, oh my god -â
âI know, baby,â he whispers, fucked out and broken as you already. âI know.â
He groans from somewhere deep in his throat, head thrown back to expose his neck, and you want to kiss him again, swallow him down, consume him whole.
You close your teeth over the chain thatâs swinging in your face so he can't pull away, and he moans, forehead knocking against yours. You bite down harder, wanting it to break, wanting to shatter it, shatter him. As if he can feel it, he grinds deeper, harder inside of you. You feel yourself clench, feel it begin to spiral. You spit the jewellery out to whimper, scratch down the length of his back over his shirt. He feels so good. Feels so fucking good, and itâs infuriating.
âI hate you,â you whine breathlessly. He moans into your neck, breath hot and damp against your skin.
âYeah,â he gasps, âFeelingâs mutual, baby.â
He marks the sentiment with a particularly dirty kiss to your throat, and with that, you see stars. You clench and break and stutter around him, splintering and bursting around his cock, crying out so loudly that he secures his large palm over your mouth.
âYeah, good girl,â he pants, âGood fucking girl.â
You moan again, and he can feel your body twitch with the aftershocks, contracting and leaking around him. He takes both your legs in his hands and places them on his shoulders, folding you into yourself, fucking into you deeper, harder than before, hitting another angle even more intense than the last. You cry desperately into the pillow, wincing as you tighten again, impossibly fast, too intense, too far away to warn him. But he knows. He can feel it. Tries to hold himself back a little longer to fuck you through it, reaching down to thumb your clit, swiping through the mess youâve made, heâs made, entranced by the sounds youâre making, the slick sound of him moving in and out of your cunt, the lightheaded feeling heâs got, the desperation, the urge, the need -
He breathes in the scent of your skin as his thrusts get sloppier, inhaling deeply through his nose. He wishes he could kiss you again. Wants to feel the press of your mouth against his, the breaths you take, your tongue against his.
But if he does, itâll be over. The game will be up, because he wonât be able to hold back the real want he feels, where all this anger stems from. Heâs so nasty, so mean because he wants you so bad. So bad, from the moment you met. From the moment you looked him up and down and listened to his arrogant introduction with a little sneer. He wants that attitude -Â wants to fuck it right out of you.
Your ankle smells sweet against his cheek, and he turns his head to kiss and bite the bone there, feeling you tense and pulse around him at the scrape of his teeth. You twist in the sheets, breathing ragged, eyes scrunched shut, fists clenching the cotton as you moan his name, as you try and bite back the gasps and cries of your second orgasm.
âAgain,â he grits out, âAgain.â
âLucien -' you cry, reaching for him, âLucien, fuck -'
He comes at the first flutter as you clamp down around him. Buries himself right down to the hilt as he spills inside you, coming with a pained moan and a murmur of your name, eyes fluttering shut as he rocks in and out of your pulsing cunt, fucking his spend deep. He lets your legs fall from his shoulders as he catches his breath, steadying himself with a palm on the mattress as he watches you come down, staring at the rise and fall of your chest beneath your dress, nipples still straining against the fabric. He wants to take them in his mouth, wants to work you up to take you again, but he slips out instead, brushes his hair back from his forehead, watches his cum begin to dribble out of your puffy cunt. You catch him and reach down to run your fingers through the mess of you both, and Lucien looses a strangled groan as you feed it to yourself, tongue working over your digits. You remove them with a pop, sliding your legs closed and settling yourself on your elbows.
He kneels back on the bed, tucking himself back into his pants, trying to focus on something thatâs not you for just a moment as you rearrange your dress and swing your legs off the bed. He feels like he should say something, something to cut across what you've just done. Something appropriately callous, but he can't bring himself to. Can't find it within him.
He hasnât even finished buttoning his pants before you swan out of the room, dress as perfect as it was before, clinging to your curves, moving with your steps. You donât look back at him as you leave, donât utter a word.
That familiar flare of anger rises in his chest again. A muscle ticks in his cheek, and he sits down heavily on the bed, clasping his hands together over his knees. He takes a deep breath, exhales through his nose. He soothes himself with the thought of your cunt leaking his cum all over your seat downstairs, thinks about how itâll ruin your pretty little dress. Tries not to think about how he wonât be tearing you out of it later, wonât be able to taste himself mixing with you like he wants to.
Tries not to think about the perfume you had applied to your ankles.
Tries not to think about how maybe, just maybe, youâve thought about this, too.
#lucien de leon x you#lucien de leon x reader#lucien de leon#lucien the uninvited#the uninvited#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x reader#lucien de leon fanfiction
955 notes
·
View notes
Text
hello sweet friends! tis the season for spreading the love, so I thought I'd round up some of the fics I've been loving lately, in case you're in need of a little reading during the holidays <3 make sure to give these writers some love!!
đ - fluff | đ„ - smut | đ - angst | â - one shot | âš - series
that feet-kickin', hallmark goodness
law of attraction by @baronessvonglitter - dave york x f!reader âšđđđ„
foxglove downs by @whocaresstillthelouvre - marcus acacius x f!reader, lucius x f!reader âšđđ„
loopholes by @yxtkiwiyxt - joel miller x f!reader âšđđđ„
a christmas miracle by @punkshort - joel miller x f!reader âđđ„
crazy on you by @goodwithcheese - joel miller x f!reader âšđđ„
I've seen this one; it's a tragedy by @youvebeenlivingfictional - marcus pike x f!reader âđđ
if they update, I run
I'll never get out of this world alive by kiwicane (ao3) - joel miller x f!reader âšđ
passenger by @whatsnewalycat - din djarin x ofc âšđđ„
howdy honey by @joelmillerisapunk - joel miller x f!reader âšđđ„
the roommate agreement by @auteurdelabre - max phillips x f!reader âšđđ„
the savage and the sanctuary by @justagalwhowrites - joel miller x f!reader âšđ
unscripted desire by @gothcsz - javier peña x f!reader âšđ„đđ
do not open in front of family
you call and I come running by @chronically-ghosted - javier peña x f!reader âđ„
sleazy santa by @morallyinept - dieter bravo x f!reader âđ„
colosseum capers by @beefrobeefcal - dieter bravo x f!reader x din djarin âđ„
blood favor by @pedgito - marcus acacius x f!reader âđđ„
smooth operator by @penascigarette - joel miller x f!reader âšđđ„
take me to church by @frannyzooey - din djarin x f!reader âšđ„đđ
fourth time's a charm by @jolapeno - lucien de leon x f!reader âđđ„
keeping me awake at night
warm hands, cold heart by @secretelephanttattoo - max phillips x ofc âđđ„(not to be dramatic but this fic made me want to make a new rec list)
difficult by @schnarfer - joel miller x f!reader âđđđ„
the way to a great wide somewhere by @myownwholewildworld - din djarin x f!reader âđđ„
ain't shit sweeter by @encasedinobsidian - javier peña x f!reader âšđ„đ
the road not taken by @guiltyasdave - dave york x f!reader âđ
dividers by @thecutestgrotto
#joel miller fanfic#javier pena fanfiction#din djarin fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfiction#dave york fanfiction#dieter bravo fanfiction#max phillips fanfiction#marcus acacius fanfiction#marcus pike fanfiction#ficrec#almostfoxglove#mine: bookshelfbrowse#bookshelf#read
122 notes
·
View notes
Text
Howdy there traveler! Iâm Erika thanks so much for stopping by
I am slowly starting getting the hang of being a writing blog but iâm still a work in progress so I appreciate your patience and understanding!
â ïž this blog & my writing are 18+ MDNI also - please do not repost my work onto other sites
Beyond this point itâs a multifandom desert so safe travels cowpokeâŠ
Pedro Boys
Letâs Rodeo - Fic Series masterlist
Cowboys Like Us - Headcanons
Seasons of You - Stardew Valley AU fic series
Joel Miller
âgive you something to dream aboutâ - sports bar & Texas football Joel
âyour heart, a sonnetâ - author!joel miller
âwhat the water gave usâ - merman!joel
game changer - MLB pitcher /baseball player joel
game changer: time out - MLB pitcher!Joel ficlet
graveyard heart - post outbreak Hades!Joel (dark fic)
Trick or Treat blurb
drive: roll a trope challenge
Mr. Winter - Santa!Joel
Din Djarin
Cowboy Din Djarin Ficlets (1) (2)
âThis Tornado Loves Youâ - Cowboy!Din
âHold On, Hold Onâ- Cowboy!Din Part II
âIn the Dead of Nightâ - Creature!Cowboy Din
Modern Rodeo Cowboy / Bull Rider Din
Haunted/Spooky Cowboy Din Ficlet
Din x Naboo Queen!Reader
Mythosaur!Din
Jack Daniels
headcannons
Frankie Morales
game changer (national league) - baseball player!Frankie
Dieter Bravo
âGo Play Your Video Gamesâ - Dieter x YouTuber!Reader
âyour favorite kryptoniteâ - comic bookstore owner!Dieter
Fire Starter - Dragon!Dieter
Marcus Pike
Guardian Angel Marcus
Marcus + spooky stories blurb
cosmic love - Marcus Pike x Marcus Acacius x Reader
Javier Peña
âBendecidoâ - Javi x Fem!Reader One Shot
Husband Javi P headcanon
âpart of your worldâ - Javi x Mermaid!Reader
Lucien Flores / Lucien De Leon
this high of you & me - Drug Dealer!Lucien AU
Ezra (Prospect)
be your hallowed ground - colonial era Demon!Ezra
blood on your name - Cowboy!Ezra (extra amazing fic banner here)
Max P
all the trouble weâve seen - witch!reader x Max
Dave York
the dark dresses lightly - god of vengeance!Dave
Marcus Acacius
cosmic love - time travel AU & poly Marcus Pike x Reader
Various
pedro guys + sports headcanons
pedro guys + monsters
Anime
JJK
Satoru Gojo:
âall of this (& heaven too)â - hades!gojo x f!reader
dragon!gojo
Jedi!Gojo x Mandalorian!Reader (2)
âin the woods (somewhere)â - mothman!gojo
âFright Nightâ - Ghost Face!Gojo
Professional Baseball Player Gojo, 2nd Drabble
Happy Birthday Gojo Drabble
God of Winter!Gojo
MHA:
A Galaxy Far Far Away - BNHA Star Wars AU tag
Mandalorian Bakugou
Jedi Shouto
Jedi Izuku
133 notes
·
View notes
Text
Welcome to my Masterlist, lovely! I hope youâll enjoy my work<3
Series / Collections
BAD BLOOD - step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller
Summary: you want your stepdad and your step uncle offers to help
*****
KISS KISS BANG BANG - no outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader (bank robbers AU)
Summary: Joel and you live a life full of risk, thrill and danger. Every day can be your last, so you savour every kiss and enjoy each other to the fullest. Can you survive this journey to your dreams?
*****
PERFECT STRANGERS - no outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: What would you do if you met a perfect stranger? Someone who understands what you've hidden deep inside your soul. The attraction is instant. It's perfect. What if you don't want to be strangers anymore?
*****
HEATWAVE collection - Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: They are horny. They are filthy. They are in love.
Itâs a collection of one-shots following the same couple. Every story can be read alone.
One Shots
Hot shower -pre-outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader pwp
Strawberries and cream- no outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader DDLG
Sweet remedy - no outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader DDLG
A Villainâs Monologue - serial killer!Joel Miller x f!reader dark fic
The Helping Hand - post-outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader somno
Keep On Your Mean Side - post-outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader (written with @milla-frenchy) dark fic
Birthday Surprise - no outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader x Tommy Miller mfm
Jacket -no outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader fluff
The Burglary - burglar!Joel Miller x f!reader x burglar!Tommy Miller (written with @milla-frenchy) dddne, non-con
Flasher - flasher!Joel Miller x f!reader exhibitionism
Flower - post outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader dead dove, dark fic
Bad Girl - Joel Miller x f!reader x Tommy Miller (written with @milla-frenchy) dubcon
Morning Bliss - post outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader smut, fluff
Cockwarming Joel - blurb
Feed Me - Joel x f!reader pwp
His - dark!Joel x f!reader x dark!Tommy x m!OCs DDDNE NON CON
Always and Forever - post outbreak Joel x f!reader angst
Ribbon - Joel x f!reader pwp
Good Girl - Professor Joel Miller x f!reader
American Beauty -best friendâs dad Joel x f!reader part 2 Please, Sir
Take Me smut, angst
Swallow blurb, smut
Joel Miller x f!reader x Dave York mfm
Pt 1 Table for three Pt 2 Whoâs your daddy? drabble Get a Taste
I know better than to call you mine fluff, smut
Heatwave pwp
Sweet Cherry virginity loss
In His Arms QZ Joel
Hot for You - drabble
Fill Me Up
Going Down - Joel x reader, Frankie Morales x reader
Wallet Photo - dbf Joel
The Other Brother - twin AU Johnny Miller x reader, Joel x reader
MEOW! - pwp
A Step Into Hell - stepdad!Joel
Halloween Night - stepdad Joel Halloween special
âš Craving You - Halloween writing challenge fic
âš His Star - smut, angst
âšJoel drabble - degradation, sub/dom
âšThe Funeral - Joel fucks you at a funeral / drabble
âš Your Boys - youâre about to spend the night with the Miller brothers feat Tommy Miller
âšHarder Than You Think - Boss!Joel x f!reader- written with @milla-frenchy Non con, dead dove
The Party - dark!Lucien De Leon x f!reader non con
The Beast Within- dark!Ezra x f!reader dark fic
One Shots
The Visit semi-public
Surveillance voyeurism
Drabble based on a gif
Shaving Javi drabble
Steam
Series
The Hounds of Hell - Javi x f!reader x Steve written with @milla-frenchy
Summary: you meet two DEA agents in a bar. You drink too much and they offer to take you home.
Watching You - Dave York x f!reader voyeurism
After Watching you - drabble
Flat line - dark!Dave York x f!reader dark, noncon
Table for three - Dave x reader x Joel mfm
The Devil in Me - devil!Dieter Bravo x actress! reader
SERIES MASTERLIST
Other Pedro characters
Addicted - Max Phillips x f!reader smut, angst
Destinies Intertwined - General Marcus Acacius x f!reader x Lucilla mff
The Hoodie - blurb
Going Down - Frankie x f!reader, Joel x f!reader
The Photo - you find Frankieâs photo / 580 words
Non Pedro characters
Sunset - boyfriend Billy (Skeleton Twins) x f!reader Boyd Holbrook character, smut
AO3 /not all fics are there
Joel Miller pencil drawing
Javier Peña pencil drawing
I saved her the last of us 2 edit
If I ever were to lose you Joel and Ellie tlou 2
Joel takes you out to dinner - moodboard
Pedro Pascal lockscreens 1 | 2 | 3
#pedro pascal#masterlist#joel miller#fanfic#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us#pedro pascal characters#joel miller x you#ezra x reader#ezra x you#dieter bravo x reader#ezra prospect x reader#ezra prospect smut#dark fic#javier peña x you#javier pena x reader#javier peña#dave york x f!reader#dave york x you#dave york smut#dave york x reader#dave york#lucien de leon#tommy miller x you#max phillips#boyd holbrook#frankie morales#lucien de leon x you
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Pairing: Lucien Flores x f!reader
Word Count: 5700+
Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!
Warnings: Just like ao3, âcreator chooses not to use warnings.â If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that youâre the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.Â
Notes: I know. We have 2 pictures and a one-sentence movie description. And yet, here I am, being a slut for this manâs characters. @rhoorl, this is for you!
**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!
â€If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)
âTell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)
**Reader is not described
Main Masterlist
Lucien Flores Masterlist
Great. Another dinner party. I swear my roommate is trying to kill me.Â
âCome on. It'll be fun, Decaf!â
âYou know I hate that nickname, right?â
Claudia chuckles, reaching out to squeeze my arm. âThen stop being so-â she gestures with her free hand â-blah.â
âOuch.â
Claudia sighs. âYou know what I mean. Ever since Dan you just havenât been..the same.â
I stiffen at the mention of my exâs name. âHe put me through hell, Claudia.â
She nods, placing her hand back on my arm in a placating gesture. âNo, of course! He was an asshole! But you shouldnât stop living your life because of him.â
I pinch the bridge of my nose, exhaling loudly. âI know that. But I justâŠneed some time. And having a dinner party every other weekend is not helping.â
She blows a raspberry with her tongue. âYou know you love my parties. Besides, they help you loosen up.â
They donât. I pretend to drink while my friends get drunk, eventually leaving when the party gets too much to handle. Itâs not that theyâre mean or anything. I just donât enjoy being the only sober person in a room full of inebriated people.Â
âAnd besides, Marcos specifically requested your famous tiramisu for dessert!â She gives me a pointed look, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.Â
âI donât-â
âWe can go shopping tonight! Maybe Marcos can come over to uh, help.â She winks at me, and that smirk finally pops up.
âIâll make the dessert but Iâm not going. I mean it this time, Claudia.â
I sigh, looking at my reflection in the mirror as I smooth down my simple black dress. I say no and somehow I always end up going. How does she do that?
The doorbell rings and I hear the faint excited tone of Claudia welcoming someone in. I do one last quick hair check and force a smile on my face, taking a moment to look in the mirror to make sure it doesnât look too forced before I head downstairs, closing my door behind me.Â
âDecaf! There you are! Marcos is in the kitchen. Why donât you help him with the wine he brought?â Claudia turns to put Marcosâs coat and umbrella on the coat stand, Marcos anticipating the rain thatâs forecasted to come at some point.
âWine isnât really my-â
âThere she is!â Marcos pops his head out of the kitchen, flashing me a brilliant smile. âCould you get the wine opener for me?â
Fake smile affixed, I nod. âSure.â I follow him into the kitchen, turning to glare at Claudia over my shoulder who smiles and gestures towards Marcos before turning back to answer the next knock at the door.Â
I grab the automatic wine opener from the drawer, Marcos smiling at me as I hold it up. âThanks so much, D!â Well, at least it was better than Decaf. Even though I knew he knew where the opener was.Â
âOf course. Do you remember how to work this thing?â
âI think so.â He takes the wine opener from me, gently brushing his fingers against mine in a not so subtle hint of flirting. He affixes the opener on the bottle and presses the button, watching as the electric opener does its thing.
Itâs not that I donât like Marcos. Heâs attractive, nice, deep hazel eyes, and obviously likes me. Heâs smart too, starting up his own bio med tech company with just an idea and a promise. I could be content with him, I guess. If it wasnât for this odd feeling at the back of my brain about him, something I could never pinpoint exactly. Even so, Iâm just not attracted to him no matter how hard I tried. And I promised myself after Dan that I wouldnât settle just so I didnât feel lonely anymore.Â
âYou look beautiful tonight, D. That dress fits you perfectly.â
I smile, knowing it doesnât quite reach my eyes. âThanks, Marcos. Howâs work? The prototype coming along?â
He smiles and launches into a long winded explanation of what exactly was going on as he follows me around the kitchen, helping me set the food on the table while Claudia pours wine and passes out hors d'oeuvres for the other guests - there are about 12 of us total. Heâs cute when he talks so passionately, but again I donât feel any connection. And the feeling at the back of my brain scratches at me again, but I push it down, putting another smile on my face.Â
Dinner starts, an appetizer of vegetable soup ladeled into bowls. Claudia is every bit the chef her mother is and more, making even the simplest dishes delectable. When the roast comes, a recipe passed down several generations in her family, another knock raps at the door. Claudia looks around at everyone, mentally counting before looking at me, her eyebrows raised in a are you expecting someone? Question. I shake my head, Claudia starting to push her chair back but I stand, placing my napkin on the side of my plate.
âI got it, Claud.â
Conversations resume behind me as I leave the room, walking down the hall to the front door. A quick glance out of the peephole shows me a man, silky button up shirt with a print of random brushes strokes stretching across his broad shoulders as he puts a cigarette out on the front steps, pushing his shoe into it. I slide the lock back and crack the door open, his eyes snapping up to my face and the air rushes from my lungs when I meet his gaze. Dark brown eyes bore into mine and he cocks his head slightly to the side, smiling slightly. Oh shit is he wearing two chains?
âGood evening, miss.â
Oh shit I hadnât said a word.
âOh. Uh, hi. Can I help you?â
He smiles a little wider, tossing his thumb over his shoulder. âMy car stalled and my phone is dead. Could I come in and call someone?â
I donât entirely believe his story, but something in his eyes makes my brain go fuzzy and a warmth I havenât felt in a long time start between my legs.Â
âS-sure. Come on in.â I open the door wider and he smiles at me, nodding as he walks past.Â
âThanks. I wasnât sure anyone would be home. Seems a lot of people are away for the weekend.â
âOh not really. People around here donât actually live here. Itâs their second homes.â In fact, ours was Claudiaâs parentâs second home. Which is the only way I could afford a place this nice.Â
âAh. That makes sense.â We stand in the entryway, his eyes scanning my face with that little smile still playing at his lips. Itâs several long moments before I realize Iâm the one who should be talking.Â
âOh! Uh, can I take your coatâŠ.â Itâs then I realize he doesnât have one, not even carrying one.Â
He chuckles. âI think Iâm good. But thank you for the offer.â The lights hit the chains around his neck and I swallow hard, wondering what it would be like to feel those chains smack me in the face over and over and-
Laughter erupts from the dining hall and..oh shit I never asked his name.Â
I tell him my name. âBut you can call me D.â
âWhatâs that short for?â
âIâŠdonât want to say.â
âThat bad, huh? Iâve had some bad nicknames in my time.â
âOh yeah?â
âYeah. But my name is Lucien.â He extends his hand and I shake it, melting internally as I feel how large his hand his, how warm, and my brain wanders away on the thot train of exactly what I want those hands to do. Another round of laughter from the dining room breaks my trance and I give my head a little shake, dropping his hand.Â
âDinner party,â I gesture down the hall towards the dining room.Â
âAh. I thought you just dressed beautifully for fun.â
I can feel the heat in my cheeks and I glance away, tucking hair behind my ear before looking back at him. âI uhâŠyou said your phone is dead?â
âOh. Yeah.â He pulls it from his pocket, turning it to show me the blank screen.
âI have a charger. Come, Iâll let you use it and then you can come have some food if youâd like?â
âOh I donât want to impose.â
âItâs no bother. Really.â I let my hand rest on his arm, giving it a small squeeze. Who even am I right now?
His eyes flick between mine before he nods. âLead the way.â
I yell to Claudia that Iâm getting my charger and she doesnât question it, diving right back into whatever story sheâs telling as I lead Lucien up the stairs. To my bedroom. What am I doing right now? Before I can think further, Iâm at my door, opening the handle and crossing to my night stand, pulling the end out of my own phone and extending my hand. âHere. Let me charge it for you.â
He hesitates a moment before placing his phone in my hand. âI appreciate it, D.â
I plug in his phone and open mine. âDo you have a preferred mechanic?â
âFor what?â
âY-your car?â
âOh! Right! Uh sure. Can I just?â He makes to grab my phone and I let him, hiding a smirk when I notice that the tips of his ears are red. He taps away at my phone and holds it up to his ear, ordering a mechanic to his car.
âHey, what neighborhood is this?â
âDestiny Falls.â
âDestiny FallsâŠ.greatâŠthanks.â He taps the screen and hands me back my phone. âThanks.â
I take the phone from him, feeling his fingers touch mine, a chill running down my arm and straight between my legs. âN-no worries.â
He stares at me for a long moment, his eyes moving down my body and back up. âYou mentioned dinner?â
âShit! Sorry! Yeah, uh this way.â
He follows me back out and down the stairs. I can feel his eyes on my ass and so I put an extra emphasis on my walk, an extra sway in my hips and I swear I hear a small groan coming from him.Â
âHhhm?â I ask.
âWhat? Oh, I uh, Iâm hungry.â
I open the door to the dining room, Lucien following me in. Everyone turns their heads to look, Claudiaâs eyes moving furiously between us both before she stands. âWhoâs this, Decaf?â
I widen my eyes at her, willing her to never use that nickname again. âThis is Lucien. His car broke down a couple blocks away and no one else is home. His phone died so he couldnât call anyone. Heâs going to wait here for the mechanic.â
Lucien holds up his hand. âHi. Thank you for allowing me into your home.â
Claudia smiles, waving him up. âOf course! Are you hungry? Let me get you a plate.â
âOh I donât want to impose.â
âNonsense! Decaf, could you get him a plate and a chair? Marcos, scootch down a bit and we can put Lucienâs chair at the end.â
I look over at Marcos, whoâs eyes are narrowed at Lucien, a hard look in them.Â
Men.
I roll my eyes and turn towards the kitchen, motioning for Lucien to follow me. âCome on. I need those hands.â Itâs not until weâre in the kitchen when I realize what I said.
âSo. You need my hands, doll?â
âI meant for the chair, but weâll see if I can find another use for them.â What the fuck did I just say?
He chuckles, his eyes darkening. âIâm sure youâll find me more than willing to help with whatever you want me for.â
Fuck, heâs looking at me and he has to know what he said. Lucien takes a few steps towards me, stepping inside the comfortable distance between strangers. Does he know that the heat between my thighs is almost unbearable at this point? Iâm tempted to get him seated and go take care of myself before I get into trouble.Â
âI-â
âHey, D. Need any help?â Marcos had come through the door. I jump back, startled. Why do I feel guilty? I donât owe Marcos anything.Â
âHey Marcos. No, I think we got it.â
âHere, Lucien. Let me show you where the spare chairs are.â
Lucien looks down at me and winks before following Marcos. âAfter you.âÂ
I make Lucien a plate of food and bring it out to the table, the conversation still moving forward. I set the plate down and go back to the kitchen to get him a drink when I hear raised voices from the back storage closet where the chairs are. I canât make it out but theyâre definitely arguing.Â
Ugh, men.Â
Then the storage room door pops open and Lucien exits, carrying a chair. The look on his face is hard, anger etching into his face, but then he sees me and it disappears immediately, giving me a smile. âGot the chair.â
He walks towards me as Marcos takes a moment to close the door. âEverything ok, guys?â
âWeâre great, D.â
âBecause it sounded like you were fighting.â
âNope. All good.â Marcosâs voice was flat, not his normal charismatic, charming tone he uses to win everyone over. I donât believe him but itâs not the time to press him.Â
Lucien sits at the table and everyone starts asking him questions, his face animatedly answering all of them. The conversation pauses, everyone stopping to drink or eat or talk between themselves. Lucien shifts in his chair beside me, his leg brushing against mine and I gasp, trying to hide it as a small cough. But the twinkle in his eye tells me he heard me and knew exactly what I did. Not even the glare from Marcos at Lucien could ruin the mood for me. Lucien presses his leg into mine further, taking a sip of wine as he cracks a joke and everyone laughs, the ring on his pointer finger sparkling in the light from the chandelier. I canât take it any more, the throbbing between my thighs is so intense I swear everyone can hear it. I need to get out of the room.Â
âExcuse me. Iâll uhâŠIâll go check on your phone.â I hastily stand, pushing my chair back.Â
âDo you want help, D?â Marcos asks, halfway to standing himself.
âNo! Uh, no. I can check a phone myself, thanks.âÂ
I walk calmly from the room, waiting until the door closes behind me before I take the stairs 2 at a time, closing my bedroom door behind me and pressing my back against it, feeling the coolness of the wood seep through my thin dress, but it does nothing to dull the ache between my legs. I sit on my bed next to my night stand, legs on the floor and put my hands over my face. Get it together. A quiet knock makes me jerk and snap my head up, moving my hands just enough to speak.
âWho is it?â
âLucien.â
Shit.
âWhat can I do for you?â
âI uh, just need to check on my phone?â
Oh right.
âCome on in.â
As Lucien opens the door, I lean back slightly, placing my arms behind me and lean on them. Lucien gently closes the door and crosses the room, his pant leg brushing against my bare knee as he reaches for his phone and presses the power button, light shining in his face. I press my thighs together in what I hope is an inconspicuous manner.
âOnly 15%. This phone takes forever to charge. Do you mind if I charge it a little more?â
âNot at all.â
âThanks.â He sets the phone down and turns his head to look at me, his eyes flicking to my thighs that are currently jammed together so tight even water couldnât get through them.
âLet me help you with your problem.â
I swallow hard. âP-problem?â
âYes. Your problem.â
âI..I donât haveâŠâ I lose all track of what I was going to say as his eyes darken, slowly raking over my body before landing on my own darkened gaze, smirking at me.Â
âIâm an excellentâŠhelper.â
âI..I d-donât have a p-problem.â
âNo?â
I shake my head, not even convincing myself. But then my voice catches in my throat as he gets on his knees in front of me, his fingers gently swirling a random pattern across my knees and lower thighs. My skin sears where he touches me, and I can feel how soaked Iâm getting. He gently wraps his hands around my knees and slowly pushes them open, the cool air not doing much to cool me down. My chest heaves as his eyes move up my legs, his gaze disappearing under my shortened dress, honing in on where I need him.Â
âI think I found your problem.â
âY-yeah?â
He slowly slides his hand up my thigh, my breath coming out in little spurts the higher he gets. His hand disappears under my dress and then I feel him, his finger sliding up the middle of me still over my underwear and my hips jolt, immediately betraying all sense of logic in my brain, the side of me thatâs screaming this is a stranger!
âGood news. I can help fix your problem.â
âY-you can?â
âDo you want me to?â
Iâm still propped up on my elbows, gazing down at this man who is kneeling between my legs, hand up my dress, rubbing tiny circles into my inner thigh with the tip of his finger, his eyes nearly black with lust, my logic side screaming at me to tell him no, to tell him to stop, to play it safe.
But Iâm tired of being called Decaf.
âYes.â
He smirks, sliding his hands up further, fingers pinching the fabric of my panties before he slides them down and off, tossing them behind him without looking. He gently places my legs over his shoulders, pushing my thighs open wider with his broad shoulders.Â
âShow me,â he says it calmly, but itâs also commanding and I shiver.
I grip the bottom of my dress and pull it up over my hips, exposing myself to him. His eyes move to stare at my cunt, darkening the rest of the way. He moves his fingers to spread me and I gasp at his touch as he takes me all in.Â
âFuck!â I yell out as he quickly dips his head and licks up the center of me, his tongue curling around the bundle of nerves. My thighs try to jam against his head but he is so damn broad that all they do is weakly twitch against his shoulders as he works me open with his mouth, moaning into my cunt.
âOh shit, oh fuck, I-â words tumble from me in an incoherent jumble. I feel one of his thick fingers swirling around my entrance before he pushes it all the way in, the cool metal of his ring brushing against my skin. My mouth is open in a silent scream, but then he pulls his finger out, adding another, his head lifted to watch as he fucks me with his fingers, the lewd squelches filling the quiet room.
He moves his head back down, gently sucking on my clit and my fingers fly to his head, twisting into his beautiful curls and gripping it as I moan his name, his fingers curling inside of me, slowly stroking at that spot. I can feel myself tightening, pulsing around his fingers as he pushes me closer to the edge. But then he pulls his hand out, his mouth leaving me and I huff.
âWhat the fu-â
He stands, undoing the buttons on his shirt before taking it off, tossing it on the floor. Heâs not 6 pack fit but heâs trim, a small tummy poking out by his pant line that I desperately want to bite. His large hands work open his pants and before I know it, he springs free, heavy and ready.
âTake off your dress.â
It takes me a moment to tear my eyes away from him, nearly ripping my dress in half in my haste to rid myself of it. I unlatch my bra too, tossing it wherever it lands. Lucien pushes my legs open, settling himself between my thighs, pressing his chest against mine. I think heâs going to say something but then all words leave my brain as he pushes inside of me, splitting me open, hand clasped over my mouth as I scream into it, hands flailing around simply because I donât know what to do with them. He burns me slightly from the stretch but I donât even care. He bottoms out and just sits there a few moments, his own chest heaving with self-restraint.Â
Without pulling out, he thrusts further in, pressing at a spot inside of me I didnât even know existed. A whiny yelp escapes me before his hand clamps over my mouth again, his eyes finding mine as he continues this slow assault. He tentatively removes his hand, my mouth hanging open as jolt of pleasure radiates out from my cunt with every thrust of his hips.Â
âDo you want me to fuck you into this bed, doll?â
I nod frantically, my hands gripping his ass in an attempt to move him faster.
âTell me.â
âPlease. Please Lucien, fuck me into my bed I-â he clamps his hand over my mouth again, his hips picking up to a rapid pace as he fucks into me, lifting my leg over his hip to change the angle. Then he somehow gathers my flailing hands in one of his large ones, pinning them into the bed above my head as he continues to snap his hips into mine, each thrust driving me rapidly towards the edge he had already brought me to earlier. The thin chains he wore brush against my face with every thrust, and I moan into his hand.Â
And then I fling myself over the edge, each thrust of his hips carrying me further and further into this bliss. Iâve never experienced this, not in this way, not this intense, rolling waves of pleasure pulsing over my entire body. I feel his hand loosen their grip, no longer over my mouth and they squeeze my hips, flipping me over so quickly my head spins slightly. I bury my face in my blankets and moan as he thrusts into me, his fingers digging into my hips as he sets a rapid pace, pushing my back down to curve my ass up further. To my surprise, I feel one of his hands snake around me, finding my clit and applying the perfect touch, perfect amount of pressure as he drives me towards the edge again at a rapid pace. He pulls me up, my back flush against his chest, his arm wrapping around me to continue touching me while the other holds my hair tightly and I come, his name gasping from my lips as I feel his hips sputter against me, a mix of hard and soft grunts in my ear before he loosens his fingers, letting me drop back to my hands.Â
He pulls out with a grunt and I immediately feel light, empty, and a little sore but in a good way. He looks at me and I point to my en suite bathroom, still trying to catch my breath. He disappears for several moments before coming back out, a wet washcloth in hand. He looks at me, still in the same position he left me in and moves behind me, pressing the cloth to my sensitive skin. I twitch and hear a low chuckle as he continues to clean me up. He helps me lay on my back, his finger tracing circles around my nippple before giving it a little pinch.Â
âWe better get back to your party.â
âMy what?â Iâd completely forgotten there even was a dinner party happening. He laughs, his hand resting on my stomach.
âYour dinner party. Surely your friends will wonder where you are.â
âMaybe. Or we could just stay here, naked, and see what happens?â
His eyes darken again and he leans forward, pulling a boob into his mouth and sucking on it. I gasp but then he drops it, sitting back up.
âAs much as Iâd love that, we should probably get back downstairs.â
Iâm hurt, but heâs right. Soon enough my friends would send a search party. And I donât want any of them to see this complete stranger, balls deep inside of me. Although if you asked me when he was actually balls deep, I wouldnât have cared at all.Â
Lucien dresses first and heads back downstairs, winking at me before he closes the door. I quickly rinse off, careful not to wet my hair before trying to fix it to what it was before. I smooth down my dress and hope no one notices the difference. I decide to check the power on his phone before I head down, just to give him an update, expecting it to not be any higher than maybe 20%. But when I light the screen up, my eyebrows furrow together. It was fully charged. Why did he lie? Was it just to fuck me? I wouldnât have cared if his phone was fully charged.Â
I take it from the charger and head back downstairs, sounds of laughter echoing up the stairwell. I sneak in through the back door, grabbing another bottle of wine on my way in as an excuse for taking so long. I realize I have no idea how much time Iâd spent upstairs, but people were just finishing eating, so it couldnât have been too long.Â
I feel eyes on me, but none more than Marcos. His eyes bore into me, hardening the longer he looks at me. He glances between Lucien and me as I hand him his phone, a look of realization settling into his features. Before I can say anything he abruptly stands up, mumbling something about a cigarette break before heading out on the back porch. A moment passes and Lucien pats his pockets, asking Claudia if she thinks Marcos will let him bum a cigarette off of him. She smiles and tells him he definitely will. Lucien gets up and excuses himself, heading out the back door to find Marcos.Â
Claudia keeps looking at me, her eyes narrowing but a smile forming, like sheâs starting to piece together what happened. Before she can ask, I excuse myself, heading towards the backyard to find Lucien and Marcos. But when I open the door I hear raised voices coming from further in the backyard.Â
âYou need to fucking leave, Lucien.â
âIâm not going anywhere until you give me whatâs mine, Marcos.â
âItâs not yours anymore, I told you that!â
âThatâs because you fucking stole it from me, asshole!â
What the hell are they talking about?
âYou say stole, I say borrowed-â
âIt took me forever to find you and now you donât even have the balls to admit you stole from me?â
âFuck you!â
âNo, fuck you!â
I hear the sound of fists landing and I close the last several steps, their fighting bodies moving into my view.
âWhat the fuck is going on here?â
They both stop, pushing back from each other and looking at me. Marcos tries to put on his normal charming smile, but that nagging feeling about him roars inside of me. âHey, D.â
âDonât hey me, Marcos. Whatâs going on?â
âOh uh Lucien and I were just messing around, right?â He looks at Lucien who glares back at him.
âNo. We were not. You stole from me.â
Marcos narrows his eyes. âAnd how could I have stolen anything from you?â
âYou were my intern! You worked on my project and then you stole it to start your little start up!â
âWait, what?â I look between them, confused.Â
âD, heâs crazy. Heâs just some guy off the street. You donât even know him-â
âOh she knows me plenty.âÂ
My jaw drops as Marcos looks between us.Â
âWaitâŠdidâŠdid you sleep with her when you went to get your phone?â
I can feel my cheeks heating up but Lucien speaks before I do. âYeah. I did. I fucked her good. Had her screaming my name. Begging me to fuck her.â
Marcosâs mouth opens and closes, anger flashing in his eyes and I can feel tears pooling in mine, a mixture of anger and embarrassment as Lucien continues to speak.
âDoesnât feel good, does it Marcos? To have something you want so badly taken away from you? I knew the moment I saw you look at her that you wanted her. So I fucked her first. You take something from me, I take something from you.â
Marcos stands there fuming, looking furious at Lucien, but no longer even looking my way. âYou canât just come in here-â
âI can. And I came in her too.â
SLAP!
My hand stings with the force of contact but I swallow any cry of pain. Lucien brings his hand to his cheek, turning to finally look at me, an odd expression on his face.
âD, listen. Marcos isnât who you think he is. He-âÂ
WHAM!
Marcosâs fist collides with Lucienâs face and he stumbles backwards. He rallies quickly, swinging for Marcos. I yell for them to stop but I may as well have been talking to the wall. The men fight, throwing themselves at each other, yelling insults that I can only halfway make out. But then Lucien pins Marcos to the ground, pounding on his face. I run up to him and grab his arm.Â
âStop!â
Lucien looks at my hand on his arm and then at me before glancing down at Marcos who had just passed out. He looks back at me, his face softening as he lowers his fist, slowly standing up with a series of tiny grunts.
âD, Iâm sorry, I-â
âDid you just fuck me to get back at him?â
Heâs quiet for longer than Iâd like, and I hate the tears that start to fall. Iâm not delusional. I know nothing would come of it. I didnât even know the guy. But a part of me had held onto some idea that maybe it was something more, could be something more.Â
âNotâŠnot at the end.â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
He gestures to a couple of chairs. âCan I explain?â
I sit, I probably shouldnât have but good decisions went out the window a long time ago. Lucien sits in the chair across from me, shifting his weight forward to be closer to me.Â
âYears ago, I hired Marcos as my intern. His name then was Juan. He helped me with my research. I had a bio tech lab and was working on some ground breaking tech. But then one day, I come in and everything is gone. Heâd stolen everything, all of my years of research just gone. And then I see his face being put up as the new man to watch in all of the science and tech magazines and I see it, my tech being claimed by this imposter.â Lucien spits on Marcosâs body.Â
That explains the weird vibe Iâd always gotten from him. He was a lying cheat.Â
âSo what about tonight?â
âAh. Well it had taken me years but I finally tracked him down. And every time I tried to get close, to get him to confess he would somehow weasel out of it. But then I saw him connected to a social media post about a dinner party. I hired a PI to figure out where and I..well I knocked on the door.â
âSo your car?â
âIsnât really broken down, no.â
âYour phone was fully charged.â
âIt was already at 87% when I first plugged it in.â
I sit with this information for a few moments. âSo what aboutâŠme?â
Lucienâs face softens as he looks at me. âThen there was you. I didnât expect to see anyone here I actually was intrigued by, but there you were. I pushed it aside to get to Marcos but then I saw how he acted around you, the way he looked at you, the pure desire in every inch of him. So I flirted and got close. You were hot and I figured I could fuck you to make him get super pissed. But then you took your dress off so easily and I could tell you werenât really that kind of person and I just⊠lost myself a bit when I was inside you. By the end, I was hating myself for using you. IâŠIâm sorry.â
Well. There you have it. I was right about Marcos being too charming for a reason, a reason he had now confessed to, recorded on Lucienâs phone no doubt. Iâm mad, I want to hit him but I also get it. And damn was he the best fuck Iâve ever had.Â
I lean forward, curling my finger around the chains on his neck as I pull him closer.Â
âWanna go for round 2?â
General Taglist:
@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21@gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed  @ladykatakuri @marrianena  @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol  @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @morallyinept
#lucien flores x reader#lucien flores x you#lucien flores x f!reader#lucien flores x female reader#lucien flores#the uninvited#the uninvited ff#the uninvited fanfiction#the uninvited fanfic#lucien flores fanfic#lucien flores fic#Lucien Floires ff#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal character ff#pedro pascal characters#lucien de leon
205 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lucien De Leon Masterlist
*=indicates smut or eventual smut (see fic warnings for details)
One Shots:
The Dinner Guest*
Not Without You*
Series Masterlists:
Coming Soon
#lucien flores#pedro pascal#lucien flores x reader#lucien flores x you#lucien flores x f!reader#lucien flores x female reader#the uninvited#the uninvited ff#the uninvited fanfiction#the uninvited fanfic#lucien flores fanfic#lucien flores fic#Lucien Floires ff#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal character ff#pedro pascal characters#lucien de leon
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
These Two FuckersâŠđđ
Sigh. AlrightâŠIâm officially committing to this one shot for Christmas because itâs taking over my brain at the moment.
It will be a Dieter Bravo x f!reader x Lucien Flores/de Leon Christmas special thatâs full of drama. Itâs me, so you know itâll be smutty, angsty, and satisfying in the most ridiculous way. Anybody want to place bets on which of our favorite hot messes will be end game?
Let me know if you want to be tagged when it drops. đ
đMysty
đEDIT: This fic is now available HERE.
Tagging my usuals for a heads up:
@alokaerza @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @annalovesflorida @annieispunk @auteurdelabre
@avastrasposts @babycatkitty @bitchwitch1981 @bunniboo0015 @burntheedges
@cakipy-blog @chaoticfestninja @copperhalfcent @darkheartgatita @fifitheragertot
@for-a-longlongtime @girlofchaos @guelyury @gwendibleywrites @harriedandharassed
@hisandsnakes @imdrinkingpedro @indiegirlunited @inkmonster21 @jackie923
@jazzloveslatte @jeewrites @jessthebaker @katw474 @knownasyami
@legendary-pink-dot @madnessofadaydreamer @maried01 @missladym1981 @misstokyo7love
@musings-of-a-rose @myloveistoolittle @partyofone3413 @pasc4lfuzz @pastelnap
@poodlebae @quicax3 @readingiskeepingmegoing @rebel-held @lady-bess
@runningmom94 @samiamproductions @sandaltoesocks @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @senorabond
@sherala007 @sin-djarin @stevie75 @sunnytuliptime @survivingandenduring
@themonadiaries-blog @timpletance @titlee78 @tkchaos @toomanystoriessolittletime
@trulybetty @txlady37 @weho2kcmo @yghuibt @din-cognito
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#lucien flores#lucien de leon#dieter bravo#family drama#angst#choices#i gave you my heart
106 notes
·
View notes
Text
THE MASTERLIST
all of my writing is now on AO3, except drabbles, here. old works on tumblr on are found at the bottom of the page.
starring FRANCISCO MORALES
ONESHOTS
24 hours [frankie morales x british!reader] fluff
after a chance encounter on a train, two strangers forge an unexpected connection that lingers beyond their brief meeting.
festive encouragement *xmas fic | fluff
Frankie hates the holidays. Twigs, his roommate, doesnât. When she gets injured, he steps in to help finish her Christmas errandsâonly to realise his crush on her might be something more.
SERIES
with no strings attached [pre tf] | smut, one night stand to lovers, feelings
stumbling into a diner in the dead of the night, frankie morales doesn't expect to find anyone there. then he meets you. what begins as a one-night-stand-turned-weekend becomes a no-strings-attached arrangement. CURRENT WIP.
JAVIER PEĂA
ONESHOTS
do you want me to hold you fluff, comfort
Javi offers comfort when you need it the most.
SERIES
bite me nicely vamp!javi, miniseries, colleagues to lovers, eventual smut
Javier Peña, a guilt-ridden vampire, struggles with the growing intimacy between him and Bones, the woman who willingly offers her blood to keep him alive.
let us pretend fake dating/marriage, sharing one bed, colleagues to lovers
Peña has been back in Texas for all of five minutes, thinking he wants a simple life. But, when Steve offers him the chance to gather information on a potential new player, he jumps at the chance. The only problem is that he'll need to go undercover with a female agentâand pretend to be her husband. CURRENT WIP
DRABBLES
touch me, move me
and JOEL MILLER
give me a sign bar!miller, flirting, pining
Joel Miller walks into a bar... and meets you, an ex-doctor now bartender who is adamant she won't fall in love with him.
it means something *xmas fic, soft smut, two people bad at feels
Compliments donât fall from his tongue, but they drip from his eyes. They land on your skin, healing scars that donât show; they make you glow, and feel like something worth choosing.
featuring LUCIEN DE LEON
fourth times the charm dislike to lovers, refusal to feel things, smut
when you turn up for your reservation, you don't expect him to be there. uninvited
<- back to navigation || to old masterlist ->
*my christmas fics from 2023
OLD FAVES:
late night texts [text fic! javi p x f!reader] COMPLETE do me yourself[diy!frankie m x f!reader] COMPLETE i'd look for you[din djarin x f!reader] ONESHOT in my room[javi p x f!reader *smut] ONESHOT
#*jo navigation#javier peña x reader#francisco morales x reader#joel miller x reader#lucien de leon x reader
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Oof! That hit me straight in the heart đ„ș
he knows (lucien x f!reader)
(lucien x f!reader) | wc: 3.2k | other fics | pic from here
UH HEY! Iâm just gonna drop this here and scurry away to finish the other lucien one shot that i also started today, âŠ.and then iâll return to finishing divorced dad rock joel, and responding to all of the lovely people on hereâbut, like, i really just need this guy in the most emotionally unavailable and fuckable way, i hope one of y'all gets me
tags/warnings/thots: 18+/explicit, smut, toxic ex/fuckboy lucien, sex instead of communicating or processing emotions, angst but we fuckinâ and thatâs the whole plot, we hit raw in my fics bc of my imaginary latex aversion or something, crying, biting, dom lucien vibes (? i never know when thatâs the right tag), big dash of pls sexy man fuck the feelings away, tell me if thereâs something i should add Â
â no editing, no thinking, wrote this in a fever dream while staring at one of the new gifs all afternoon, idk his character! I havenât watched anything! i just saw the chains and the face and let the horny devil in charge of my sole brain cell take the lead, aka he's my barbie, i was trying to challenge myself to just do something short like 1k- but, uhhhh itâs only 3!Â
seeking feedback though (as always) so i can improve!! tell me all ur thots pls!Â
âI know,â Lucien argues, âbut I never meant to hurt you.âÂ
âI donât care anymore.â You speak plainly. Small and quiet. Without conviction. Apathetic. Honest.Â
âAnymore?âÂ
âBaby, please.â He looks at you with those stupid round eyes. Heâs effortlessly put together like the wrinkles in his silk shirt were approved by a team of stylists to give him a hint of carelessness. Your incessant attraction to an emotionally unavailable man, it pulls you toward him like a bitter fate. Your therapist, Angie, says you need to learn how to find healthy attachment attractive, but if you shudder with disgust at the thought then whatâs the point?Â
âJust listen to me,â he continues, talking in circles. Apologizing without taking accountability. Explaining away everything. His behaviors, words, decisions. Apparently, he floats through life at the whim of others. Like one of those ugly deep sea creatures, he tempts you like a glowing lure in the dark. Your eyes glaze over, everything shifting out of focus as you dissociate in your living room. No matter how numb you are, he calls to you.Â
You arenât listening to the words. They donât matter. It doesnât matter if his tone is sincere or if itâs thick with flattery and empty promises. Itâs more basic than that. Simple. The timbre of his voice. Unique to him. Imprinted in the chambers of your heart. A sharp ache spears through you, and something cracks. A fat, hot, tear escapes. With your shoulders drooping, staring at the ground, the tear falls, splashing on the floor.Â
When you look up, meeting his eyes, itâs over. Lucien pulls you close, wrapping his heavy arms around your frame, bracing for the crescendo, keeping you steady. Tears stream endlessly, flooding down your cheeks, sticking to your face and his neck as you bury your face into his warm skin. Heâs still trying to placate you, speaking nonsense, thinking he can comfort you. Thinking he knows why youâre upset. Thinking he understands you.Â
When your therapist asked you to define love you had described it as being understood. Being seen. Being known. Being considered and prioritized.Â
Lucien thinks he knows you. Thinks he understands you. Does he think he loves you?Â
Following this line of thought hurts. Splitting you open, a raw beating heart, glistening, thumping, full of life, or a meal fresh and hot for a carnivore to tear into with its sharp fangs. Plump muscle, rich and dark, bleeding out, helpless. Snapping back into reality you shake, a violent sob racking your diaphragm as the pads of his fingers massage the back of your neck. Soothing. Coaxing.Â
You want it sharper. Rough. Violent. Distracting. Painful. Anything. With wet lashes, swollen eyes, and ragged breath you become fixated. Licking the salty tears from the dip where his neck meets his shoulder, you can feel his muscles and tendons beneath the flesh. So human and alive. He strokes his hand down your spine, attempting to pacify you, but it sparks something lurid and ravenous, instead.Â
You graze your teeth along his neck. âWhat are you doing?â he mutters the question over the top of your head. Maybe he does know you. âWhat do you need?â He growls, lowly, the hand he traces your spine with trails lower this time. Heâs gluttonous and torrid. A hair-trigger to shift from his concern for your pain and the hole in your heart to a sordid desire to mollify you with his fingers and his cock.Â
Maybe itâs a perversion, the tangled experience of despair and desire, the duet of anger and arousal, the sick escape using sex to skip over the emotional suffering. But itâs exactly what you want. Itâs the root of the fucked up toxicity. Of everything wrong between you. He does know. He does understand. The same heat that flickers in your core sparks in his.Â
Voracious and brash. You bite down, sinking your teeth into his neck, igniting a wildfire. An untamable beast. Again and again and again. Biting, sucking, kissing. His skin tender and raw, your lips wet and swollen. You run a hand along the back of his neck, tugging into his hair, anchoring your grip, and pulling a husky groan from his throat.Â
âWhat do you need?â Lucien repeats, this time with a sharper edge. He detaches you from the safety of the crook of his neck. His two hands. Unnecessarily large, warm, and steady brace either side of your jaw, his fingers wrapping behind your neck. He holds you in front of his face. Vulnerable. Messy. Heat radiates from your cheeks. You release a shaky breath.Â
âDonât make me say it.â Itâs a whisper. Pleading and demanding at the same time.Â
The cocky smirk that spreads on his face is sickening. It makes you want to slap him, to hear the crack of your palm against his cheek. It makes you want to surrender. Soft and pliable, ready to please and earn praise. It makes you want to scream. To bite him so hard you draw blood. To fuck him until he canât talk.Â
You tell him all of it. Exactly what you need, what you want, what you refuse to say. You tell him all through your kiss. The hunger in your lips as you press them to his, the violence on your tongue, the desperate and vulnerable need to be cared for in the soft moans that rise from your chest, from your heart, from the blood in your veins. He chases all of it. The punishment and pleasure.Â
He backs you into the kitchen, caging you against the counter like a scene from a movie. Impervious to whatever protest you make as he clears space, blindly sweeping his arm over the counter before lifting you onto it. The edge of the counter digs into your soft thighs, but it doesnât matter. Youâre ready to drown in the vanilla musk and bourbon-spiced scent of him. The bass in his voice that makes your eyes fall shut and your head tip back against the cupboard behind you. The bruising pressure of his grip that he knows you crave.Â
âBaby,â he croons. His words are soft and gentle. As if he propped you on the counter to tend to your wounds. But his hands show no mercy. Roughly ridding you of your clothes. Dropping them into a pile on the floor. Heâs ruthless with you. In ways you canât be with yourself. In ways other lovers could never master. Harsh without being cruel. Deliberate without a plan.Â
He lets you tug his shirt over his head. Skin to skin the intensity is primal. âFuck,â is all you can manage to say. The heat is overwhelming, prickling your nerves and sharpening every sensation. Lucien toys with you like itâs his favorite game. Alternating.Â
First, palming reverently at the flesh, sweeping his tongue over your hard nipples, and teasing the wet skin with his hot breath.Â
You let him make the decisions. Take the lead. Youâre done arguing, done thinking, done with the guilt of letting him in the door, done with acting like youâre any better than him. You brace yourself, one palm flat on the counter, the other resting on his shoulder. Taking whatever he gives.Â
He switches up. Everything becomes pointed and precise. He sucks marks into your skin on the underside of your breasts. He pinches and flicks the pert bud of your straining nipples. The contact of his fingers, tongue, and teeth sends white-hot jolts of electricity straight to your cunt. He bites down hard enough to make you choke on a moan. Your whine fills the room, twisted with pain and pleasure.Â
âYou poor thing,â he purrs. Your face is still wet from your tears. But now theyâre tears of frustration. âJust a mess.â You reach for his belt, impatient, but he stops you. Heâs not done looking. He lifts one of your legs, propping your foot onto the counter and posing you obscenely in front of him. His gaze makes your pussy throb.
Heâs torn.Â
Studying your face. Everything unsaid in your eyes. The anguish and rage. The acerbic disdain. The nearly imperceptible longing.Â
Admiring your sex, spread open for him. Shining with your arousal. Swollen, slick lips so sensitive for him. Your core, fluttering with anticipation, achingly empty without him.Â
He holds your chin between his thumb and curled forefinger. His eyes swirl with lust and something you canât quite place. âYou have no idea,â he rasps. âNo idea how much it fucking kills me to see you like this. And knowing Iâm the reason why.âÂ
You donât know if he means it breaks his heart to see the way you suffer or if he means the sight of you dripping on the counter has him so hard it hurts. You donât know which youâd believe anyway. Heâs not hard up to find someone else to torment or to fuck. That thought makes your throat dry.Â
âI canât stay away from you,â he traces his fingers down your soft inner thigh, closer and closer to where you need him. âHow could I?â You tip your head to the side, your limbs and head feel heavy, drunk on a cocktail of everything you love and hate about him all at once.Â
âThen donât.âÂ
Your reply makes him smile again. Heâs so handsome when he smiles itâs infuriating. âYou could scream at me, kick me out, hate meâbut you still let me touch you, you need me to touch you. Why do I love that so much?âÂ
âYou like feeling important.â You let your snarky comment out without thinking. His question was definitely rhetorical. A few emotions flicker across his face before, a dark little smirk curls the corner of his mouth.Â
He feeds off of your challenge. âThere she is.âÂ
âI never left,â you snap, frustration spilling over. He laughs, loose and easy.Â
âListen to me,â Lucien says, low and velvety. Subduing you with the tension and proximity. âI know. You want me to use you. Like youâre my toy. Until you canât keep those beautiful eyes open.â
âYes.âÂ
âI know.â He echoes. Then he closes the gap, kissing you with affection. Holding himself back, but you arenât reserved. Youâre greedy; you want it harder. He just said heâd ruin you, why is he being so gentle? He pulls back with something sincere in his eyes. A whimper falls from your lips, pouty and baffled.Â
âGonna fuck you like Iâm trying to ruin you, baby.âÂ
You narrow your eyes at him. Sometime soon, hopefully? You donât snap again, answering with another yes.Â
He leans in, breath fanning hot over your ear. âBut, we both know that tonight youâre the one using me. Ruining me. Iâm your toy.âÂ
Your breath hitches at that. You mouth I know in response, not even able to whisper it. He doesnât need to hear you say it. He nips your ear lobe and you loose a surprised cry before gasping out his name.Â
Heâs swift now. Purposeful. Undoing his belt, shoving his pants down and revealing his cock. Reflexively your hips tense and shift. Just looking makes you salivate. He runs his thumb over the bead of precome, drawing it along his length.Â
He knows how you want it. His fingers can coax you to an orgasm in no time, but you donât want that. You want the resistance, the stretch, the dull ache, and intensity as your muscles work to let him in deeper. Nobody makes you feel the way he does. Full. Complete. Mindless.Â
It could be pornographic, vulgar, raunchy. The way he pushes your inner thigh further open with one hand while he uses the other to languidly stroke himself. The way he grips himself so tightly like heâs punishing himself. The way his jaw hangs slack and he mutters under his breath about how badly you need him.Â
To you, however, itâs a profound admission. A candid confession. The more he goads you the more it solidifies that heâs the one that needs you. That it flows so easily from him because heâs really talking about himself.Â
âYou say you donât care anymore, but look at you now, baby.â He shifts closer, at counter height youâre aligned perfectly. He glides the head of his cock up and down the folds of your soaked cunt. You shudder and moan, mesmerized by the sight.Â
âItâs almost sad how much you need me, like you canât breathe without this,â he keeps talking.Â
He demands that you watch, as if there was a chance you could stop, as he lines up and sinks into you. You groan in unison. Youâre so tight, he draws back out. Repeating the same motion, feeding his cock into you deeper and deeper each time. Your hot, plush walls pulse around him, adjusting. When he finally meets the end of you, he hums, pleased. âYou feel that?âÂ
You bob your head, nodding, agreeing. âYes.â Your voice is breathy. âPerfect.â You grind against him as if you could take him any deeper, begging him to move with your needy display. Itâs wholly overwhelming as is, every nerve within you alight as his cock kicks within you, tensing with the same craving to move.Â
He takes your hand in his, nestling your fingers around him. Somehow he feels even larger than he looks, like he shouldnât be able to fit inside of you, but here you are feeling it and seeing it for yourself. Slowly, Lucien tilts his hips, almost pulling out of you completely before plunging in with force. He keeps up the tantalizing pace, guiding you to touch yourself. He watches your fingers with rapt attention, bracing a hand on your hip to keep you in place as he drives into you with another snap of his hips that edges you closer.Â
He gradually speeds up, a master at tempering his desire. Your hip flexor aches as you hold yourself in place but it doesnât matter. You find your rhythm as he holds steady at a pace that has him landing brutal thrusts that force the words out of your lungs. Soft ohâs and fuckâs pour out of you, under your breath, adding fuel to the fire blazing between you.Â
Lucien savors your chanting and the image of you fixed in place, taking him eagerly. Your fingers move with urgency, chasing the release that looms closer and closer. Your mind is blissfully blank, reduced to something animalistic, removed from the burden of your history. âDonât stop,â you plead, âIâm so close.âÂ
He doesnât stop. He fucks you at the same pace, all the way through it. As you contract around him, when everything pulls taut and snaps within you, crying out his name, when itâs too sensitive and you whip your hand away, and as you shudder and breathe deeper and deeper. As the ache in your legs from being spread wide open returns and your ass feels numb where the edge of the counter digs into your flesh. Another tear spills from the corner of your eye, but you canât say what itâs from anymore.Â
When you fidget, he stops moving, letting you readjust. A sheen of sweat glistens all over your chest and youâre suddenly acutely aware of how loud the slick noises between you are. How easy it is to get lost in Lucien's hot and heavy magnetism. You know you were falling apart before he propped you up on the counter, but youâre sure youâre a complete wreck now.Â
Lucien pulls out but then leans against you, pinning the length of his cock between you, hot, slick, and messy against your sweat-damp skin. He floods your senses, all you can see, hear, and smell. Caging you in his hand find a possessive hold on you, one wrapped around the back of your neck, one wrapped tight around your thigh as you hitch it around his hip.Â
âYou feel good?â he asks. You hum in agreement. You do feel good. You know heâs not done yet, and smile wide, still hungry for more. âHow good?â he asks and you know thereâs something coming next.Â
âSo good.â You trail a hand between you, drawing a line down his chest and back up to cradle his cheek in your palm. Something about the prickle of his facial hair along your palm feels so natural, domestic, and sweet. Youâre tempted to kiss his cheek, nuzzle against his ear, and ask him to take you to bed. But you canât. Youâll never have that. Instead, you bait him. âI think youâre holding back though, I know you can fuck me harder than that.âÂ
He scoffs, unamused, blowing a hot puff of air between you. His fingers dig deeper into your thigh, applying the kind of pressure that stirs arousal low in your belly.Â
The dark glint in his eye gives you butterflies. âI will, Baby,â his rumbling voice is innately sensual, but the condescension in his tone makes you tingly. Youâre so close to him that you can feel his heart beating in his chest, you can feel the same pulse thrumming in his cock, still flush against you as he slants his lower half along yours. Heâs all things heavy and firm, strong and sculpted, yet fitting so naturally against you. You need more, wriggling and squirming against him, you canât contain the restlessness.Â
âYou know,â he says slowly, drawing your eyes back to his. âYou can keep trying to move on, but no one else will ever know you like this. No one else will ever ruin you the way I do. You can tell me you donât care anymore, but youâll never let anyone else in the way you let me. They wonât touch that part of you, the one thatâs mineâbecause itâll always be mine.âÂ
It trickles through you slowly until your blood feels like itâs boiling. Theyâre tears of anger now. Itâs like a sick double entendre.Â
âI know,â your words are steeped in every emotion cascading through you.Â
You donât know if itâs worse that heâs right. That thereâs a Lucien-shaped mark imprinted on your heart that will never fade. Or if itâs worse that he doesnât even know it applies to him just the same. That he always comes back because heâs trying to fill the same void.Â
Maybe he does know. Maybe he does know and this is all he can do to make it up to you.Â
Maybe thatâs why he leads you to your bedroom and lives up to his word.Â
Why he fucks you so hard you see stars. Why he doesnât stop even after he comes deep inside of you with a possessive always gonna be mine. Why he litters your skin with more false promises and confessions. Why he gives you so many orgasms you lose track.Â
Maybe thatâs why heâs still there when the sun starts to peek through your window. Why he fucks you slowly when youâre too tender and exhausted to take him any harder until youâre floating in limbo between a dream and reality. Why he stays there, just cradling your back into his chest and listening to the rhythm of your breath.Â
Maybe he does know.Â
PLEASE COME YELL WITH ME ABOUT THIS FICTIONAL GUY BC I NEED HIM IN A SUPER NORMAL WAY or tell me if my writing was incoherent or if you can't relate to the toxic ex that is still the best fuck of your life (cruel and twisted fr)
dividers by @/cyberangel-graphics
tags for the babes that let me annoy them with my thots <3
@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange @itwasntimethatdidit40 @ivoryandflame
@magneticecstasy @indiegirlunited @syd-djarin
#lucien de leon x f!reader#pedro pascal character smut#lucien de leon x reader#lucien de leon x you#pwp fic#dd recs
380 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Gave You My Heartâ€ïžđ
One Shot (Complete) ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x f!Reader x Lucien de Leon
đSummary: You and Dieter attend his parents annual Christmas party where you unexpectedly run into your ex, Lucien de Leon. As events (and drama) unfold, you're soon wondering if you are making the right choice about your future.
đWord Count: 9.1 K
đšWarnings: Angst, smut shenanigans, alcohol consumption, brief mentions of past drug abuse, shitty relationships, family drama, mentions of unplanned pregnancy. Dieter & Lucien come with their own warnings.
Shout out to my love, @morallyinept, for her wonderful character dialog database. It was nice to have that as a reference for this fic. đ
I glanced at my watch. We were supposed to be leaving in twenty minutes, but Dieter hadnât made it home yet due to being stuck in LA traffic. From the string of expletives included in his text messages with his ETA updates, I could tell he was beyond frustrated that filming had gone over schedule.Â
He burst through the door of our Sherman Oaks home in a flurry, kicking his shoes off and undressing as he made his way upstairs toward the bathroom to shower. He was still covered in grime and fake blood from whatever gruesome scene he had been filming that morning.Â
I followed behind him, picking up his clothes and biting back laughter as I watched his bare ass quickly disappear down the hallway into our bedroom. It wasnât an unusual sight, but he typically didnât move at a speed that would cause his ass cheeks to bounce the way they were. He was already in the shower when I entered, vigorously rubbing at his face and hair under the spray as he cursed about the water not warming up fast enough and making jokes that his dick was now shriveled up to the size of an almond because it was so cold.Â
I shook my head and laughed as I threw his clothes into the hamper, âDee, would you relax? I told your mom we might be a few minutes late. She was cool with it.â
He huffed loudly, âI know, Iâm sorry. Iâm just a little nervous. I havenât been to one of her Christmas parties in years. Thereâs gonna be a lot of family there that Iâve been avoiding.âÂ
As I did some last-minute hair and makeup touch ups, Dieter stepped out of the shower. I glanced over at him, doing a double take as I noticed there was still a tinge of red in his hair near his temple. I pointed toward it, âYou still have fake blood in your hair.â
He huffed out a quiet âfuckâ as he threw his towel at me and stepped back into the shower, dumping more shampoo into his hand to scrub at the spot while he muttered expletives under his breath.Â
By the time he stepped out again, I was pulling on my dress for the party. It was solid black and very fitted with a boat neckline and exceptionally low back. I could feel his eyes on me as I adjusted the straps to sit properly. His hands gripped my hips from behind and squeezed at the meaty flesh, âWell, the almond dick issue is solved. You look so fucking sexy in this. Think we have time for a quickie?â Â
I scoffed jokingly, âNo. We donât, actually. Save it for later, lover boy.âÂ
He whined, âOK. Fine. I wanna fuck you in my old bedroom anyway. That bed has never seen any action. Itâs time.âÂ
I rolled my eyes at him, âYouâre so ridiculous.âÂ
He gave me a quick peck on the cheek then grinned, âI know, but thatâs why you love me.â
He wasnât wrong, I loved his playful and carefree side. He made me smile more than anyone else ever had. We acted like a couple of big kids most days, always having fun and not taking each other for granted. We had both finally reached a point where we were happy, healthy, and ready for life-long companionship.Â
We had come into each other's lives at just the right time - him having hit his one-year sober anniversary and me finishing out therapy to deal with all of my childhood trauma. We met in the self-help section of a Barnes and Noble of all places. Both of us were looking for the same book with only one copy being found by him. After several minutes of looking for another one and coming up short, he offered to let me have it, but only if I gave him my phone number. I was hesitant at first, but it ended up being the best decision I had ever made. A year later we were still going strong and planning our future together.Â
I could feel my nerves bubbling up as we got into the car. I hadnât officially met his family, but I had talked to his mom several times when she would call. That didnât make me feel any better though.Â
I dug around in my purse, pulling out my phone to see if my best friend, Delia, had texted me back yet and found a notification from her.
Delia: Sorry, Iâm just not feeling up to coming tonight. You two have fun. Iâm sure they will all love you.Â
I sighed and shoved it back in my purse. Dieter glanced at me from the driver seat, grabbing my hand to lace his fingers with mine once it was free.
âSomething wrong?â he asked with furrowed brows.Â
I shrugged, âIâŠdonât know, honestly. Deliaâs been kind of weird lately. I feel like sheâs avoiding me. I was really hoping she would come tonight. Having someone else there that I know would have been nice.âÂ
His hand tightened in mine, âSheâs probably just busyâŠshe does have that new job.â
I sighed again, âYeahâŠtrue. Maybe youâre right.âÂ
He pulled my hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on my fingers, âJust relax, love. Youâre letting the nerves get to you. I can tell. My mom is gonna love youâŠshe already does.âÂ
I laughed nervously, âShe hasnât even met meâŠâ
He smiled, âDoesnât matter. She knows you make me happy and keep me outta trouble. Thatâs all sheâs worried about.âÂ
We were quiet the rest of the way, but that didnât stop Dieter from giving me reassuring hand squeezes and kisses. With him now focused on me, it seemed like his nerves had dissipated some, which was a good thing, at least.Â
As we parked outside his sprawling childhood home in the Hollywood Hills, I couldnât ignore the bad feeling taking root in my gut and I didnât know why. I finally shook it off as he reached into the backseat to fetch the Christmas bouquet he had purchased for his mom. From the looks of it, we were some of the first guests to arrive as Dieter had planned. He wanted to spend some time with his parents before things got too hectic. I wasnât sure if that was a good or bad idea.
We were greeted with smiling faces and hugs. Mr. and Mrs. Bravo were nothing but kind to me and mostly gushing about how well Dieter was doing and happy he was finally getting his life together. Dieter sat next to me with a shy smile and flushed cheeks as his mom doted on him. He would never admit it, but I knew it meant a lot to him that his parents finally saw him as something other than a failure.Â
As guests began to filter in, Dieter took the opportunity to take advantage of his parents' distraction, citing that he was going to show me around. The minute he checked over his shoulder with a smirk as he pulled me upstairs by one hand, I knew what he was up to.Â
We were both giggling like a couple of teenagers as he gave one last glimpse over his shoulder before pulling me into a room at the end of the hallway and locking the door behind us. It was like a time capsule. His parents had obviously not touched it since he moved out. The wall space was covered with 80âs movie and band posters. There was floor to ceiling shelves on one side of the room filled with books and old VHS tapes. It was very Dieter.Â
I could feel his eyes on me as I inspected the room. I suddenly turned to meet his gaze with a mischievous smile, âSo, where do you keep the dirty magazines and porn videos?âÂ
He snorted out a laugh, âWellâŠthat all went with me when I moved outâŠbuuut, I used to keep them buried at the back of the closetâŠin one of the many boxes labeled as comics.âÂ
I chuckled, âThat sounds about like what I expected.âÂ
He suddenly pulled me into his arms and smiled against my lips, âWe probably need to be fast, so mom doesn't get suspicious.â
His lips trailed down my neck as he backed me up against the dresser. I laughed before responding with a conspiratorial tone, âWe canât have that now, can we? She might ground you from your video games.âÂ
He groaned against my shoulder before spinning me to face the dresser, meeting my gaze in the mirror as his fingertips ghosted down the exposed skin of my back. I could already feel the arousal drenching my underwear as his thirsty eyes drank me up. His hands moved to the straps of my dress, slipping them over my shoulders, allowing the dress to slide down my body and pool on the floor at my feet.Â
He licked his bottom lip as one hand reached around to gently knead at my breast, then pinched the nipple between his fingers. I moaned quietly at the sensation, leaning back against him as I grasped his hand and raised it to my mouth, sucking on his middle and index finger before placing them at my center. He wasted no time pulling my underwear aside to rub at the small bundle of nerves, eliciting a much louder moan from me. He chuckled against my ear, âImma need you to be quiet, love. These walls are thin. Never know when somebody might walk by.âÂ
His fingers dipped lower, first one, then two disappearing inside of me to expertly massage at that blissful spot that he knew so well. I gripped his arm with one hand, while the other tangled in his messy curls.Â
He hummed against my ear in that deep baritone voice of his, âSo wet already, youâre always ready for me, arenât ya honey?â
I nodded; my head dropped back against his shoulder as my eyes pinched shut.Â
âOh no, love. Keep your eyes on me.âÂ
My eyes met his reflection, he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he fought a smirk. He always looked so fucking sexy when he did that. I could feel his bulge pressing against my ass as he continued to work me over, grinding into me as his hot breath came faster against my ear. He had me coming undone in his arms within minutes, never taking his eyes off mine as he worked me through my release.Â
He held me around the middle for support, lips grazing and nibbling at my neck until I regained my senses. I chuckled, turning my head toward him to capture his lips in a heated kiss. He pulled away slightly, just far enough that he could suck his fingers into his own mouth to taste me. All while never breaking our eye contact. I needed him immediately.
I turned in his arms, nimble fingers moving to the buttons on the front of his black dress shirt to unfasten them. He smiled down at me as I worked to remove his clothes, allowing me to take charge now. Once he was undressed, I pushed him back toward the tiny twin bed.Â
âLay down so I can fuck you like you want me to, lover boy.â Â
His brown eyes rounded as he took in my words, turning giddy and scrambling onto the bed - his cock erect and bouncing as he went. I had to bite back a laugh at his excitement. His enthusiasm for sex never seemed to wane.
After he got situated, he patted at the tops of his thighs with a lopsided grin that caused his cheeks to dimple. âAlright, mount up and ride me, baby.âÂ
I couldnât help chuckling as I peeled off my underwear then moved to straddle his hips. After notching him at my entrance, I quickly sank down all the way, causing his jaw to fall open from the feeling. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me in place.Â
âFuck, baby. Youâre about to revert me back to my sixteen-year-old self and make me come after six seconds by doing shit like that.âÂ
I leaned down, giggling against his scruffy chin before placing a kiss on the bare heart shaped patch in his beard. He let out a steady controlled breath before loosening his grip and nodding for me to continue. I sat up, placing my hands on his chest for leverage and began to move. We were met with a high-pitched squeaking sound. I paused, rolling my lips together in an attempt to hold in my laughter.
Dieter huffed, âItâs not that loudâŠkeep going.âÂ
I nodded and began to move again. Every time I sank down onto him - squeak, squeak, squeak. It only seemed to get louder each time.Â
My right hand flew to my mouth to hold in the giggles. I couldnât help it.Â
Dieterâs eyes slid closed in defeat as he huffed out, âI guess thereâs a reason this bed hasnât seen any fucking action.âÂ
I finally lost it, leaning down to bury my face in his chest as I burst into laughter. My movement caused the bed to squeak again which set us both off. It continued the incessant noise as our bodies shook from the hysterics, which only served to make things worse.Â
Dieter finally collected himself enough to wrap his arms around me and move to a sitting position, then twisted to hang his legs off the side of the bed. All while it continued to squeak with every movement.Â
âFuck this. Iâm a big boy now. Watch me make this work.â
He stood, wrapping my legs around his waist as he did so while I tried to stifle my giggles. He moved back toward the dresser, perching me on the edge of it as he repositioned himself at my entrance and sank in. The sudden sensation of him filling me caused our chuckles to turn to a deep groan. He stood there for a moment, allowing me to adjust to the new angle.
He smiled against my lips, âSeeâŠI got this.âÂ
I gave him a teasing look and nodded, âThen get to it Bravo. Show me how itâs done.âÂ
His hips began to move, slowly at first so I could feel every inch of him sliding against me. It was already creating a delicious sensation that would soon turn me into a quivering mess in his arms. He began to snap his hips a little faster which resulted in a thumping noise from the mirror smacking against the wall. The faster he went, the louder it got, which caused me to lose it all over again.Â
He stopped moving as his forehead tilted forward to lean against my shoulder, âOh for fuckâs sake.âÂ
When my eyes finally met his, he was fighting a smile. âI just wanna have sneaky sex in my old bedroom, is that too much to ask?â
I snickered as I pushed at his chest for him to back away, âOk, itâs my turn. Watch and learn.âÂ
I hopped down off the dresser and turned my back to him, leaning forward to place my hands on the top of the dresser to brace myself as I arched my ass toward him. I turned to look at him over my shoulder with a teasing smirk, âMount up, lover boy.âÂ
He chuckled as he came up behind me, one hand grasping my hip as the other gripped the base of his cock to slide back in. I gasped at the feel of him as he leaned flush against me, lips brushing my ear as he spoke. âYou think youâre such a clever girl, donât ya.â
I nodded as his hips snapped against my ass, now panting as I muttered out some teasing words. âI know I am.â
His hands snaked around to my front, one pulling me flush against him as the other rubbed tight circles on my clit. âI guess that means you deserve to come again. Come on, love. Give me another one.âÂ
That was enough to send me over the edge again, causing him to grunt against my ear as my walls constricted around him. After a few more thrusts, his groans turned to soft whimpers as he spilled inside of me. His arms tightened around me as he buried his face into the top of my shoulder. We stayed like that for a couple of minutes, attempting to catch our breath and come back to reality. Â
I felt his lips against my skin, placing gentle kisses before he raised his head to look at me with a blissed-out expression. âYouâre so fucking perfect. I love you. Have I told you that today?â
I smiled up at him, âYou have, but you can tell me that as many times as you want.âÂ
He captured my lips in a brief kiss before pulling out with a groan. âLemme see if I can find something to clean you up with.âÂ
I stopped him, âNo, leave it. I wanna keep you close tonight.âÂ
His brows arched as he smirked at me, âSuch a dirty girl. I fucking love it.âÂ
I gave him a quick peck on the lips, âI know you do. Now get dressed. Weâve probably been gone too long as it is.âÂ
He nodded as he turned to search out his clothes, tossing me my underwear before picking up his pants. We spent a few minutes getting decent. After touching up my makeup and sorting out Dieterâs messy sex hair, we finally made our way downstairs.Â
Dieter had his hands on either side of my waist as he walked closely behind me, leaning in next to my ear to whisper about how he was going to take this dress off of me again later. Neither of us paid much attention as we rounded the corner to the living room, causing us to nearly crash into a broad figure. I felt Dieter stiffen behind me as I began to murmur my apologies until my eyes met the chocolate ones peering down at me. With a smirk that was still sexy as ever, Lucien de Leon spoke in that deep raspy voice that I knew so well, âSorry sweetheart, didnât see you coming.â He did not seem the least bit surprised to see me.
I felt like I was going to be sick as I wondered what the hell he was doing here. I felt Dieterâs grip tighten as he pulled me closer to him, âLucien, I thought mom said you werenât gonna make it?â His voice sounded off, almost like it was a warning more than a question.Â
Lucien shrugged as he glanced at me, âIâŠchanged my mind.âÂ
Dieter sighed, now peering down at me, âI guess I should introduce youâŠthis is my brother, Lucien.âÂ
Brother? What. The. Fuck. I was struggling to breathe as I gave Lucien a nervous smile, reaching my hand toward him to shake and giving him my name like it was the first time we had ever laid eyes on each other. He hesitated, still with that smirk before finally reaching out to take my hand in his to play along.Â
âSo, youâre the one thatâs turned my brother into a good boy, ehh?â he finally said in a teasing tone.Â
I gave him a tight smile, âNo. Your brother did that himself. He worked for it.â
Dieter was beside me now, eyes shifting between Lucien and I with raised brows.Â
Lucien gave me an amused look before his eyes shifted to his brother, âWell, good for him. Iâll be shocked if it sticks.â
Dieter scoffed, âFuck off. You donât know meâŠIâve changed.âÂ
Lucien rolled his eyes in response before changing the subject. A smug look suddenly forming on his face, âI got a call back on that new Scorsese film. Itâs supposed to be a big deal.â
Dieter gave him a very unimpressed stare, âListen, Iâm sorry. Iâm trying to care, but itâs hard. Besides, they offered me the lead and I turned it down. I have a prior commitment. I already have my Oscar, so whatever.â Â
I stifled a laugh as they exchanged a cold glare. Lucien seemed to break first, âWell, Iâll let you two get back to the party. I think mom was looking for you.âÂ
He walked away without another word, ending the childish pissing match between them for the time being.Â
Dieter huffed, âFucking asshole. Come on.âÂ
After taking my hand, he pulled me through the tightly packed crowd in search of his mom. I could feel his calming warmth radiating through my skin, but mentally I was somewhere else. Ten years in the past to be specific, where I first met Lucien.Â
Lucien and I had been cast as the two leads in a play at one of the local theaters. Our relationship was all consuming, passionate, and toxic. We were right for each other in so many ways, but too broken to make it work. In all the ways that he was sweet, sexy, and charming he was equally as stubborn, selfish, and sometimes cruel. Not that I had been any better. Both of us were guilty of saying things we didnât mean to purposefully hurt the other. We really did bring out the worst parts of each other. Though I still maintain most of our problems stemmed from his constant drinking. It was only ever bad when he was drinking. It turned him into another person that I eventually learned to hate and resent.
We tried being together several times over the years. It never failed. We would randomly run into each other in some public place, immediately fall back into bed and swear to do better, but it never worked. The same issues always inevitably reared their ugly head. I willingly gave him everything, and he broke me again and again.Â
Knowing our history and how easily we always found ourselves back together was igniting a fear in me. We were like magnets. It was damn near impossible for us to stay apart from each other. I ruined many good relationships for him, but I couldnât do that now. I couldnât do that to Dieter.Â
Dieter was amazing. He was all the things that Lucien was never able to be. He was all of the best parts of Lucien plus more. Dieter gave me his love and affection so willingly. With Lucien, I had to fight for scraps. Each little morsel kept my hope alive just enough to make me believe that he loved me as much as I loved him. Those little morsels were what kept me going for years, but in the end it wasnât enough.Â
As Lucienâs star began to rise in the film industry, we finally hit a wall. He was pictured kissing some model at a Hollywood party, which made it into the tabloids, and inevitably into my hands. It was my last straw. I hadnât seen him in person since the night I confronted him about it and ended things. He eventually became fairly well known in the film industry. It didnât take long for him to establish his reputation as a womanizer and Hollywood fuckboy. As far as I knew, he still had that reputation, even if he was now considered to be a D-list actor.Â
It was a massive effort to keep myself in the present as Dieter and I mingled with his family and friends. It didnât help that I kept catching Lucienâs gaze from where he wandered on the outskirts of the crowd. I knew exactly where he was at all times because I could feel his eyes burning into me. It was making me anxious. I knew him and I knew he wasnât going to make this easy on me. We had played this game too many times.Â
I needed a break, so I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Upon finding a line for the downstairs bathroom, I made my way upstairs since no partygoers were permitted up there. Once I was finally alone, I let out a sigh of relief. Now focusing on my breathing to try and get my heart rate back to normal. Being away from Lucien was doing me wonders, allowing me to ground myself and fully come back to the present. I had to remind myself that I wasnât the same person anymore. I could resist him now.
After finishing up, I opened the door to exit but was suddenly crowded backwards into the small room. My nose was assaulted with the familiar smell of Lucien's musky cologne as he turned to close and lock the door behind him.Â
âWhat the fuck are you doing?â I hissed.Â
âI need to talk to you,â he answered with pleading eyes.
I shook my head, trying to push past him. âI have nothing to say, and I canât be here with you.â  Â
He held out his arm, grabbing me around the middle to stop my progress. âBaby, please. I just wanna talk, I swear.â
I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest as I moved to the opposite side of the room, âDonât call me that.âÂ
âWhy are you with my brother?â he asked. Not even acknowledging my demand.
I let out a sardonic laugh, âI didnât know he was your brother.âÂ
His brows furrowed, âHow the fuck did you not know weâre brothers?â
I scoffed, âYou told me your brother's name was David.â
His brows raised, âIt isâŠlegally. Didnât he tell you that?â
I rubbed a hand down my face, âYou donât even have the same last name! How the fuck was I supposed to know?âÂ
He looked amused now, âYou didnât think it odd that we look so similar?âÂ
I let out a controlled breath, âNo, I didnât actually. I have a type, OK. I know this. I just figured you guys looked alike in the way that Elijah Wood and Daniel Radcliffe look alikeâŠor Javier Bardem and Jeffrey Dean MorganâŠor Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen.âÂ
He chuckled, âYou do know that Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen are brothers, right?âÂ
I sighed, âNo, I didnât. Maybe you fuckers should keep the same last name to cut back on the confusion.âÂ
He was smiling at me now, âYouâre still feisty I see. God, Iâve missed that.âÂ
I held up my hand to silence him, âDonât say shit like that.âÂ
âCome on honey, you know you miss me.â That ridiculous smirk was back on his lips as I glared at him.Â
âSo, I take it you havenât told my brother about me after that little stunt you pulled downstairs.âÂ
I rolled my eyes, âNo. Not by name anyway. All he knows is that I had a problematic ex that fucked me up.â
He sucked air through his teeth, âThatâs harsh. You know you canât blame all that on me.âÂ
I stared at him for a beat, âNo. Youâre right. You just added to it and took it over the top.âÂ
He came closer, causing me to back up against the sink as he looked me over from head to toe.Â
âYou look beautiful tonight. I havenât been able to keep my eyes off youâŠâ
I refused to look his way as he leaned in closer, âI noticed. You need to stop it before someone notices.âÂ
His curved nose grazed the shell of my ear. I had to force my thighs not to clench together from the contact.
âI miss you ya know? Iâve been trying to get in touch with youâŠbut youâve been hard to track down. Now I know why.âÂ
I jerked away from him, âWhat do you want, Lucien? Your little game isnât gonna work this time. Iâm not falling for it. I love Dieter.â
His eyes widened, âLove? Well, thatâs a development. I donât remember you saying that about any of the others.âÂ
I rolled my eyes, âYes. I love himâŠIâm happy. WeâreâŠgetting married.âÂ
He scoffed, âYou realize heâs been married twice alreadyâŠright? This isnât new for him.âÂ
That hit a nerve, and he knew it.Â
âThat may be true, but he wasnât sober then. He is now. Heâs got his life figured outâŠunlike you.âÂ
He feigned offense, âHey, I went to rehab too you know. Iâm trying here. Which is why I wanted to talk to you. I need to tell you Iâm sorry.âÂ
His energy shifted. I couldnât tell if this was another one of his games or not. I was taken off guard as he turned away from me, seeming almost pensive as he continued.Â
âI knowâŠIâm a large part of the reason that we never worked. I was emotionally unavailable, and I let what little fame I managed to gain go to my head. I broke a lot of my promisesâŠyou deserved better.â
I let out a steady breath, attempting to control my emotions. I had waited years to hear those words, eventually accepting that I never would. Yet, here we were.Â
âWell, I appreciate the apology. Thank you for that.â
He gnawed at his lip for a beat before turning to meet my gaze, âDo you thinkâŠmaybe we could try again?â
Anger flooded through me. He was giving me whiplash from all the different emotions he was pulling out of me in such a short time period. I shook my head, biting back a disdainful laugh. âYou have got to be fucking kidding me right now.â
It was his turn to shake his head, âNo. Iâm not. Iâm still in love with you. It was always you. I was just too stupid to see it.âÂ
I felt near bursting into tears, and I wasnât sure if it was from anger, pain, or something else. âIâm not doing this with you again.âÂ
His brows pinched together, âYou really think he can make you happy? Heâs nothing but the knock off version of me. Youâre attracted to him because he reminds you of me. Admit it.âÂ
I scoffed, âYou two may look similar, but Dieter is nothing like you. He and I have connected in ways we never will. If you wanna compareâŠheâs the name brand version that I should have started with. You were a bad decision, a waste of my time and money, and I canât even get a fucking refund.âÂ
He pursed his lips, allowing time for the words to sink in. That hit a nerve as intended.
âNow, if youâll excuse me, Iâm sure my fiancĂ© is wondering where I am. I canât have him finding us in here together.â Â
I brushed past him to unlock and open the door. He didnât stop me this time. I felt strangely liberated as I made my way downstairs, never having been able to deny Lucien in that way before. I wasnât weak anymore. I was the one in control.Â
It didnât take long for me to find Dieter. His tea kettle laugh could be heard over everyone else. All I had to do was follow the sound. As I approached, he wrapped his arm around me and placed a quick kiss on the top of my head before he went back to his conversation. I loved seeing him like this. His happiness from reuniting with his family after so many years of being ostracized over his bad behavior and drug habits helped ground me.
Dieter was attentive as we continued to mingle, making sure to include me in his conversations while keeping physical contact at all times. From the way he kept glancing at me, I knew he could sense the lingering tension from my interaction with his brother. He probably just assumed it was nerves from meeting his family and hopefully didnât suspect anything, but I knew I would have to tell him the truth. And soon.Â
Though I made a point to keep my attention on Dieter, I could still sense Lucienâs presence. It seemed like the harder I tried to ignore him, the more taunting he became. He worked his way through the crowd, becoming louder and more boisterous as the evening went on. With each pass around the room, I found him getting closer and closer. Eventually, I found him chatting in the groups near us, positioning himself where he was in my direct line of sight or close enough behind me that he could brush against me in some way. His proximity was affecting me in ways I didn't want to admit. There was something sort of thrilling about our secret and his audacious behavior that was arousing. However, the moment I looked at Dieter, it all disappeared. He was my life now. He held my heart carefully. Lucien never did anything but smash it into a million pieces.Â
I briefly stepped away from Dieter to grab us a bottle of water from the kitchen. As I stood with the refrigerator door open, I was surprised to feel strong hands grip my hips, then slide around my waist to pull me closer. Plump lips trailed down the curve of my neck, causing me to suck in a breath. I knew instantly who it was from the way he touched me and the feel of his mouth. My body betrayed me, reacting on instinct as it melted into his embrace. My mind finally caught up, causing me to abruptly turn and push him away.Â
âWhat the fuck is youâre problem, Lucien?âÂ
His cocky grin was back, âIâm just reminding you what youâre missing, baby. I can tell; you're questioning yourself. Youâre not sure what you want. Iâm here to make sure you know your options.âÂ
I scoffed, âYouâre so fucking delusional. Leave me alone.âÂ
I grabbed a bottle of water, then slammed the door closed as I moved away from him. Once back with Dieter, I felt distracted. I couldnât stop thinking about the way Lucienâs lips felt on my body or the way his stupid gold chains used to gently graze against my skin as he moved above me. The thoughts caused that familiar ache to form at the apex of my thighs. I hadnât seen or sensed Lucien since leaving him in the kitchen, yet he was still having this effect on me.
I suddenly felt hot and claustrophobic at the realization. I didnât understand what it meant. Dieter noticed, leaning in to ask if I was feeling ok as his hand rubbed soothing circles on my lower back. I nodded, âYeah, I think I just need some air.âÂ
He moved to come with me, but I stopped him. âNo, you stay and talk to your uncle. Iâll be fine. Iâll be right back.âÂ
I soon found myself on the back patio, inhaling deeply to catch my breath as the chilly night air instantly cooled my burning skin. It was a relief and allowed me to calm the storm that was brewing inside of my mind. The reaction I was having to Lucien was purely physical. It meant nothing. I didnât love him anymore. This would feel differently if that wasnât the case.Â
Suddenly, I felt that magnetic pull. My attention was drawn to the shadows, seeing the glow of a cigarette before Lucien stepped into the light. He came closer and offered it to me.Â
I shook my head, âI donât smoke anymore.âÂ
He shrugged, âSuit yourself.âÂ
There was an awkward silence that stretched between us as he puffed away until the cigarette was done. His mood now seemed a little more somber than it had in the kitchen.Â
He finally spoke, âYou knowâŠI was just watching you two togetherâŠfrom out here. Youâre different with himâŠand him with you. I can tell you really care about each otherâŠand you lean on each other for support. Thatâs good. Iâm happy youâve both found that.âÂ
I was taken aback by his words, but I couldnât tell if he was being sincere or not.Â
âMaybe one day Iâll find that too. I think it would do me some good.âÂ
I gave him a soft smile, âIt always helps to have a support system.âÂ
He pursed his lips in thought, âDo you remember how we used to go to the video store and rent like five movies and stay up all night to watch them in bed?âÂ
I nodded and smiled at the memories. It was some of our happier times together.Â
âYou used to get so mad at me for eating chips in the bed because of the crumbs, but then I would always find stray peanut m&mâs a week later.â
I laughed, âChip crumbs are way worse to clean than peanut m&mâs though.âÂ
He nodded and chuckled, âYeah, maybe.â
His brows furrowed, âI donât think Iâve eaten or watched a movie in bed since you left. That was our thing. I canât do it without you.âÂ
I sighed, âLucien, donât do this. Please.âÂ
He held his hands up in surrender, âJust wait. I-I-I real- I-I really have to do thisâŠI need to get these unresolved feelings out. I fucked up. A lot. I know this. I was selfish and mentally checked out before the good parts, the houseâŠthe kids, the Christmas cards. Iâm sorry for that. I just felt so much pressure about it all. I needed to accomplish too much to get us there and I didnât think I could do it.âÂ
He moved in closer, cupping my cheek as he gave me that baby cow eye look that always bent me to his whim. I couldnât move or breathe.Â
âI do still love you. I meant that. I would do anything to have you back.âÂ
He leaned in further and paused, giving me a chance to rebuff him again, but I couldnât. I was still frozen by him, his words, his voice, his touchâŠI could feel that small ember that burned for him slowly igniting into a flame as I got lost in his soulful eyes. I felt confused. I couldnât distinguish if it was my heart or cunt talking, telling me to at least see where things go.Â
When I didnât immediately pull away, he closed the distance between us, capturing my mouth with his. His kiss was commanding, confident, and sensual. It stirred something inside me that I admit I never felt with anyone else, not even Dieter. It was feral and uninhibited in almost an unhealthy way. He broke the kiss, both of us panting as our gazes met. My resolve was quickly crumbling, and he knew it.Â
That cocky smirk returned to his lips as he took my hand and pulled me toward the side of the house that was hidden in the shadows. It was like my brain had switched into autopilot, entering the submissive state that he loved so much.Â
After caging me in against the side of the house, his lips crashed into mine as he dipped lower to grind his hips against me. I could feel his hard length pressing against my center, and God I wanted it. I wanted him.
His lips began to trail downward, nipping and licking down the curve of my neck.
I sighed, attempting to gain my resolve as I managed to say, âLucien, we canât do this. Itâs wrong.âÂ
My actions did not match my words as my fingertips knotted in his hair and held him tighter to me. I could feel him smiling against my skin, continuing to place small kisses between his words as he responded.Â
âItâs not really happening. Weâre just finishing unfinished business in a parallel universe.âÂ
I chuckled, âYouâre so fucking ridiculous.âÂ
His lips were hovering near mine, smiling as he replied, âI knowâŠthatâs why you love me.âÂ
His words made me think of Dieter. That was always his response too. Lucienâs hand reached for the left strap of my dress, beginning to lower it off my shoulder before I stopped it and forced him to meet my gaze.Â
âWhat about your brother? Your mom? If we do this, itâs gonna hurt them. I donât think thereâs any coming back from that.âÂ
He shrugged, âI donât care. They donât matter to me. I need you in my life. Please.âÂ
âYou think I can hurt them like that?â I asked. His spell over me was quickly fading.Â
âYouâll have me, baby. Itâll be ok.âÂ
As my eyes drifted over his stupidly beautiful face it was now obvious to me, he hadnât changed. Not really. He might or might not be sober, but he was still a selfish asshole who only ever thought of himself. He still had a way to go before he actually had his shit together and learned to be a better person.Â
He obviously couldnât read the shift in my mood as he leaned in to suck on my neck.Â
I moved my lips closer to his ear, âYou know I just had sex with your brother less than three hours ago in his old bedroom upstairs.âÂ
He pulled away with a confused look. âWhat? You wanna fuck me in my old room too?âÂ
He was missing the point. This isnât me. I donât do this anymore.
âI can still feel his cum dripping out of me. Does that not bother you?âÂ
His brows furrowed as he turned away and pinched the bridge of his nose, âFucking hell, do you have to be so crass about it? Thatâs not exactly what I wanna be thinking about right now.âÂ
I scoffed, âCrass? Thatâs ironic coming from youâŠand yes. If thatâs what I need to do to get my point across, then so be it. Iâm not that person anymore, Lucien. Iâm putting an end to this now. I will not do this to DieterâŠI love him too much. Iâm not ruining my life for you ever again.âÂ
His jaw clenched, âWho says you would be ruining your life? Iâm ready to settle down and have a family, a house⊠all the things I promised.âÂ
I had to bite back a laugh, âThen why donât you do that with one of the five women you already have kids with.â
His brows arched, âExcuse me? I only have two kids.âÂ
He paused and grimaced, âThere may be a third one, but Iâm not sure whatâs happening with that, yet...âÂ
My mouth dropped open with that news, âOh and when were you gonna tell me about that? Youâre seriously out here professing your love to me when youâve knocked up someone else? Youâre a real piece of work. Youâre obviously still a hot fucking mess. I canât believe you seriously think you can offer me more than Dieter.âÂ
He laughed as he crowded my space again, âIs that what itâs about? Money?âÂ
I pushed him away, âFuck you. You know thatâs not what I mean. He loves me and he makes sure I know it. I donât have to beg him for affection or an emotional connection. He gives it willingly.â
He rolled his eyes, âRight, he must not give you everything you need if youâre melting in my hands so easily.âÂ
We were already sliding back into old habits by slinging insults at each other. This is why we didnât work.Â
âDid you miss the part where I said we just had sex? Heâs much more attentive than you ever were. Iâve never had to fake it with him.âÂ
I could tell that was his final straw. There was no questioning Lucien de Leonâs skill in the bedroom. In his mind, he was a sex god. He wasnât wrong. He was fucking amazing in bed, but he didnât need to know I thought that.Â
His jaw clenched as his face flushed with anger. He looked like he was considering his next words before he spoke. Obviously deciding he was going for maximum damage.Â
âI got Delia pregnant.âÂ
I felt like a bomb had just detonated in my face, swallowing the world around us and leaving nothing but ringing in my ears. Once I regained my senses, all I could manage to get out was a strangled, âWhat?âÂ
He had his cocky asshole smile on now, suddenly playing it casual.
âYeah, I saw her out at a bar several months ago. I wanted to ask her about you⊠and we just started talkingâŠhad one too many drinksâŠthen went back to her place and spent all night fucking. Weâve seen each other on and off a few times since then. So, yeah. I knocked up your best friend.â
I hated him. I hated him for the way he had treated me and for whatever way he was about to treat her even though she should have known better.Â
I scoffed, âYouâre unbelievable.â
I pushed past him to go back inside. I could hear him apologizing as he followed behind me, realizing he finally took it too far. I was telling him to âfuck offâ just as Dieter stepped outside. Lucien and I stopped short at the edge of the patio when we realized Dieter was there, eyes shifting between the two of us as he worked out what he was seeing.Â
I sighed, my eyes closing in defeat and shame realizing there was no way to get out of it, but I didnât want him finding out like this.Â
Dieter approached; lips set into a tight line as he continued to look between us. âYou wanna tell me whatâs going on?â
Lucien looked at me with wide eyes. For once in his life, he was keeping his damn mouth shut. I inhaled deeply; my mouth opened but no words came out. I didnât know where to start.Â
Dieterâs brows furrowed, âYou slept with my brotherâŠdidnât you?âÂ
The look on my face must have told him all he needed to know as he pursed his lips and nodded in understanding. âI meanâŠitâs not the first time this has happened with him and someone I was dating. So, I shouldnât be shocked.â
I stepped closer to him, âDieter, it was years ago. Before I knew youâŠI didnât know he was your brother or else I wouldâve told you. I meanâŠI kind of told you, but I didnât say his name. Heâs the one that fucked me up so badly.â
I could see anger flash in his eyes as he shot daggers toward Lucien, realizing all the terrible things he had done to me. âI always knew you were an asshole, but damn. You need some serious help.âÂ
Lucien had the audacity to look offended by that before Dieterâs attention turned back to me. âAnd youâŠhow the hell did you not know he was my brother? Everybody knows that.â
I scoffed, âYou told me your brother's name was Richard. And you fuckers donât even have the same last nameâŠYou know what, Iâm not having this conversation againâŠâÂ
Dieter shrugged, âHis name is RichardâŠlegally. He didnât tell you that?â  Â
I huffed, rubbing at my temple, âFucking hell, you two. Maybe youâre more alike than I realized.âÂ
I couldnât help the giggle that suddenly escaped as I peered up at Lucien, âYour name is actually Dick? Thatâs fittingâŠshould have stuck with it.âÂ
Lucien rolled his eyes, âFuck off with that.âÂ
Dieter snorted out laughter as he pulled me into his side, âI love you. Your so fucking perfect.âÂ
I sighed in relief as our gazes met, âYouâre not angry with me?âÂ
He shook his head, âHow can I be? It was years ago. Besides, I know how he isâŠalways been more charming than me. All the ladies fall for him at some point. At least youâve already gotten it out of your system.â Â
Lucien suddenly looked disgusted as he muttered, âI canât fucking believe thisâŠâ
My eyes narrowed at him, âLucien, you really need to get it togetherâŠreevaluate your life. And it sounds to me that you have someone else you need to work things out with. Do right by her, please.âÂ
His brows pinched together as his eyes met mine. An understanding seemed to pass between us. We were done. For good. I gave him a tight smile as I nudged Dieter toward the door to go inside. Lucien didnât move to follow, but I could feel his eyes on us until I closed the door behind us.Â
A short time later, Dieterâs mom announced the news of our engagement to everyone. She didnât hesitate to pull us in for tight hugs as she congratulated us with a wide toothy smile. I could see Lucien in my periphery, jaw tense with a slight frown on his lips and a bottle of something in hand. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Even with all the bravado and posturing, I could tell he was hurt. I didnât doubt that he had feelings for me, but they were never enough to make him change his ways.
After Lucien left, things felt more relaxed. Dieter and I enjoyed the rest of the evening together, smiling happily as we told his parents goodbye to head home. We soon found ourselves snuggled up on the sectional next to the fireplace as we admired our first Christmas tree. Our conversation eventually turned to Lucien and our history. I helped fill in the gaps and answer any questions Dieter had, making sure he knew I was committed to him and him alone.Â
âI know heâs your brother, and it may make things harder between you two, but I can never fully forgive him for how he treated meâŠbut I do wish him well. I hope that he can get his life together and find peace.â
Dieter sighed, âHe's such an almighty fuck up. And I love himâŠbut he makes it hard. I miss who he used to be. We used to be so closeâŠuntil the Hollywood lifestyle started getting to us. Everything became a competition and we both sort of spiraled out of control in so many ways. Maybe one dayâŠIâll get my brother back. I canât forgive him for everything, but I can try.â
I squeezed him a little tighter, âMaybe you should offer an olive branch? Maybe he would let you help him get sober?â
Dieter pursed his lips in thought, âYeahâŠmaybeâŠâ
Lucienâs POV
As I sat and watched the love of my life and brother announce their engagement to the family, a lot of thoughts and feelings were swirling around in my head. After seeing them together, I couldnât deny they were both happy. She had chosen the better man. I accepted it at that moment, deciding it was time to move on.Â
Not wanting to stick around and further wallow in my pain, I found myself outside Deliaâs small studio apartment with a fresh bottle of bourbon in hand. I had been in denial about her for weeks. After our time together I was beginning to feelâŠsomething for her. She wasnât the one that I wanted in my future, but that didnât mean she was a bad choice. If she decided to keep the baby, she was going to be part of my future anyway.Â
We spent some time discussing things and I assured her I would be supportive if she decided to keep the baby. Personally, I wanted her to. I had a sudden urge to try and make things work with her. As I laid next to her sleeping form on the bed, staring at the small christmas tree illuminated in the corner and nursing a glass of bourbon, my phone vibrated on the nightstand. I was surprised to see that it was my brother calling. I sighed, my thumb hovering over âignoreâ before I finally decided to answer.Â
I quickly stood, moving to the bathroom to avoid waking Delia, then answered.Â
âWell, well. Hello brother. To what do I owe the pleasure?âÂ
I could hear Dieter suck in a breath on the other end of the line, âI uhhâŠjust wanted to check in and make sure youâre good.âÂ
His words and tone stirred something inside of me. This was the old Dieter talking. The one I cared about before things went to hell between us. It caused a rush of emotions that I had to fight back, inhaling deeply to collect myself before I answered,
âYeah, Iâm goodâŠyour girl really knows how to bring a man to his knees, but Iâll live. I can see that sheâs happy and thatâs all that matters. Iâm moving on.â
Dieter chuckled, âThat she can doâŠbut that doesnât mean sheâŠthat weâŠdonât care about your wellbeing. I want you to know that. If you ever decideâŠto tryâŠto wanna get sober, I wanna help you. I want us to move past all the shit we did to each other and try to be brothers again.â
I couldnât believe what I was hearing. I was shocked, but I didnât hate the idea. Deep down, I did miss my brother. I tried to cover my emotions with a snicker, âWell, isnât this a Christmas fucking miracle. I guess this means the Bravo brothers are backâŠMaybe Iâll change my name again.â
Dieter laughed, âLetâs not get too crazy nowâŠone step at a time.â Â
My brows furrowed as tears formed in the corners of my eyes, âDo you think you could uhhâŠsend me the information for that rehab place you went to?âÂ
I could hear the smile in his voice, âYeahâŠIâll send it right over. If you decide you wanna goâŠI canâŠtake youâŠif you want?â
I nodded even though he couldnât see me, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall. I had to clear the lump in my throat before I could respond, âUh, yeahâŠI think Iâd like that.âÂ
âAmazingâŠwellâŠjust tell me when youâre ready and Iâm there, brother.âÂ
He sounded like he was fighting his emotions just as much as I was.Â
âI willâŠIt wasâŠgood to talk to you.â
âYou too. Merry Christmas, Lucien.â
A small smile formed on my lips, âMerry Christmas, Dieter.â
After hanging up with Dieter, I didnât think twice before seeking out the bourbon I had arrived with and pouring it down the drain. I could feel it. This was a turning point for me. A new path that I had to choose to take because I wanted to, not because it was expected. If Dieter could do it, then so could I. It was time I moved on with my life and found happiness too.Â
As I snuggled up next to Delia, I could faintly envision our future together. If she was willing to try, then so was I. Maybe she was meant to be my happy endingâŠwith the house, the kids, and the fucking Christmas cards.
A/N: Hello my lovelies! Thanks for stopping by!
I've gotta say...the speed at which I busted this out (less than 48 hours) has to be a record. And here I was worried it wouldn't be done by Christmas. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Happy holidays!đ€Ł
đIf you're a Dieter lover (like myself) and you're new to my work, I have lots more for you to enjoy HERE. Including my mystical Christmas fic from last year. I've also got a little Frankie thrown on the masterlist too. Happy reading!đ
Tagging those who interacted with the teaser post:
@itsbrandy @copperhalfcent @trulybetty @ashleyfilm @annalovesflorida
@undutchable11 @pasc4lfuzz @pedrospurplerain @survivingandenduring @bunniboo0015
@dimonroks @rav3n-pascal22 @darkheartgatita @snowflorets @sinpathyforthedevilish
@lizzie-cakes @rabreu1414 @pedrospookie @janeie87 @cheyennerenee10
@daydream-believer19 @elliskies @kirsteng42 @timpletance @lady-bess
@sin-djarin @probablyreadinsmut @thesassyteacher91 @sherala007 @bardot49
@annieispunk @bitchwitch1981 @72scsuze @kt86 @sweetperfectioncloud
@felix-enthusiast @pedrit0-pascalit0 @yorksgirl @kimm4710 @missladym1981
@katiemarieeee @titlee78 @katw474 @knownasyami @jensensational71
@dewnights @auteurdelabre @jessthebaker @indiegirlunited @musings-of-a-rose
@readingiskeepingmegoing @avastrasposts @imdrinkingpedro @hisandsnakes @sunnytuliptime
@misstokyo7love @din-cognito @yghuibt @stevie75 @guelyury
@jokesonthem @madnessofadaydreamer @samiamproductions @harriedandharassed @runningmom94
@danilg21 @pedrostories
Credits: MDNI & Support banner by @cafekitsune Christmas Lights by @strangergraphics
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#lucien flores#lucien de leon#dieter bravo#christmas drama#angst#choices#this ain't no hallmark movie#christmas fucking miracle#i gave you my heart#dieter bravo fic rec#dieter bravo one shot fic rec#lucien flores fic rec#lucien flores one shot fic rec
190 notes
·
View notes
Text
This is SO DAMN GOOD!!!!
Seriously, wow! The ache, the longing, the way he draws you in. Itâs so easy to understand why reader canât tear herself away fully. Damn him. But also⊠đ„
he knows (lucien x f!reader)
(lucien x f!reader) | wc: 3.2k | other fics | pic from here
UH HEY! Iâm just gonna drop this here and scurry away to finish the other lucien one shot that i also started today, âŠ.and then iâll return to finishing divorced dad rock joel, and responding to all of the lovely people on hereâbut, like, i really just need this guy in the most emotionally unavailable and fuckable way, i hope one of y'all gets me
tags/warnings/thots: 18+/explicit, smut, toxic ex/fuckboy lucien, sex instead of communicating or processing emotions, angst but we fuckinâ and thatâs the whole plot, we hit raw in my fics bc of my imaginary latex aversion or something, crying, biting, dom lucien vibes (? i never know when thatâs the right tag), big dash of pls sexy man fuck the feelings away, tell me if thereâs something i should add Â
â no editing, no thinking, wrote this in a fever dream while staring at one of the new gifs all afternoon, idk his character! I havenât watched anything! i just saw the chains and the face and let the horny devil in charge of my sole brain cell take the lead, aka he's my barbie, i was trying to challenge myself to just do something short like 1k- but, uhhhh itâs only 3!Â
seeking feedback though (as always) so i can improve!! tell me all ur thots pls!Â
âI know,â Lucien argues, âbut I never meant to hurt you.âÂ
âI donât care anymore.â You speak plainly. Small and quiet. Without conviction. Apathetic. Honest.Â
âAnymore?âÂ
âBaby, please.â He looks at you with those stupid round eyes. Heâs effortlessly put together like the wrinkles in his silk shirt were approved by a team of stylists to give him a hint of carelessness. Your incessant attraction to an emotionally unavailable man, it pulls you toward him like a bitter fate. Your therapist, Angie, says you need to learn how to find healthy attachment attractive, but if you shudder with disgust at the thought then whatâs the point?Â
âJust listen to me,â he continues, talking in circles. Apologizing without taking accountability. Explaining away everything. His behaviors, words, decisions. Apparently, he floats through life at the whim of others. Like one of those ugly deep sea creatures, he tempts you like a glowing lure in the dark. Your eyes glaze over, everything shifting out of focus as you dissociate in your living room. No matter how numb you are, he calls to you.Â
You arenât listening to the words. They donât matter. It doesnât matter if his tone is sincere or if itâs thick with flattery and empty promises. Itâs more basic than that. Simple. The timbre of his voice. Unique to him. Imprinted in the chambers of your heart. A sharp ache spears through you, and something cracks. A fat, hot, tear escapes. With your shoulders drooping, staring at the ground, the tear falls, splashing on the floor.Â
When you look up, meeting his eyes, itâs over. Lucien pulls you close, wrapping his heavy arms around your frame, bracing for the crescendo, keeping you steady. Tears stream endlessly, flooding down your cheeks, sticking to your face and his neck as you bury your face into his warm skin. Heâs still trying to placate you, speaking nonsense, thinking he can comfort you. Thinking he knows why youâre upset. Thinking he understands you.Â
When your therapist asked you to define love you had described it as being understood. Being seen. Being known. Being considered and prioritized.Â
Lucien thinks he knows you. Thinks he understands you. Does he think he loves you?Â
Following this line of thought hurts. Splitting you open, a raw beating heart, glistening, thumping, full of life, or a meal fresh and hot for a carnivore to tear into with its sharp fangs. Plump muscle, rich and dark, bleeding out, helpless. Snapping back into reality you shake, a violent sob racking your diaphragm as the pads of his fingers massage the back of your neck. Soothing. Coaxing.Â
You want it sharper. Rough. Violent. Distracting. Painful. Anything. With wet lashes, swollen eyes, and ragged breath you become fixated. Licking the salty tears from the dip where his neck meets his shoulder, you can feel his muscles and tendons beneath the flesh. So human and alive. He strokes his hand down your spine, attempting to pacify you, but it sparks something lurid and ravenous, instead.Â
You graze your teeth along his neck. âWhat are you doing?â he mutters the question over the top of your head. Maybe he does know you. âWhat do you need?â He growls, lowly, the hand he traces your spine with trails lower this time. Heâs gluttonous and torrid. A hair-trigger to shift from his concern for your pain and the hole in your heart to a sordid desire to mollify you with his fingers and his cock.Â
Maybe itâs a perversion, the tangled experience of despair and desire, the duet of anger and arousal, the sick escape using sex to skip over the emotional suffering. But itâs exactly what you want. Itâs the root of the fucked up toxicity. Of everything wrong between you. He does know. He does understand. The same heat that flickers in your core sparks in his.Â
Voracious and brash. You bite down, sinking your teeth into his neck, igniting a wildfire. An untamable beast. Again and again and again. Biting, sucking, kissing. His skin tender and raw, your lips wet and swollen. You run a hand along the back of his neck, tugging into his hair, anchoring your grip, and pulling a husky groan from his throat.Â
âWhat do you need?â Lucien repeats, this time with a sharper edge. He detaches you from the safety of the crook of his neck. His two hands. Unnecessarily large, warm, and steady brace either side of your jaw, his fingers wrapping behind your neck. He holds you in front of his face. Vulnerable. Messy. Heat radiates from your cheeks. You release a shaky breath.Â
âDonât make me say it.â Itâs a whisper. Pleading and demanding at the same time.Â
The cocky smirk that spreads on his face is sickening. It makes you want to slap him, to hear the crack of your palm against his cheek. It makes you want to surrender. Soft and pliable, ready to please and earn praise. It makes you want to scream. To bite him so hard you draw blood. To fuck him until he canât talk.Â
You tell him all of it. Exactly what you need, what you want, what you refuse to say. You tell him all through your kiss. The hunger in your lips as you press them to his, the violence on your tongue, the desperate and vulnerable need to be cared for in the soft moans that rise from your chest, from your heart, from the blood in your veins. He chases all of it. The punishment and pleasure.Â
He backs you into the kitchen, caging you against the counter like a scene from a movie. Impervious to whatever protest you make as he clears space, blindly sweeping his arm over the counter before lifting you onto it. The edge of the counter digs into your soft thighs, but it doesnât matter. Youâre ready to drown in the vanilla musk and bourbon-spiced scent of him. The bass in his voice that makes your eyes fall shut and your head tip back against the cupboard behind you. The bruising pressure of his grip that he knows you crave.Â
âBaby,â he croons. His words are soft and gentle. As if he propped you on the counter to tend to your wounds. But his hands show no mercy. Roughly ridding you of your clothes. Dropping them into a pile on the floor. Heâs ruthless with you. In ways you canât be with yourself. In ways other lovers could never master. Harsh without being cruel. Deliberate without a plan.Â
He lets you tug his shirt over his head. Skin to skin the intensity is primal. âFuck,â is all you can manage to say. The heat is overwhelming, prickling your nerves and sharpening every sensation. Lucien toys with you like itâs his favorite game. Alternating.Â
First, palming reverently at the flesh, sweeping his tongue over your hard nipples, and teasing the wet skin with his hot breath.Â
You let him make the decisions. Take the lead. Youâre done arguing, done thinking, done with the guilt of letting him in the door, done with acting like youâre any better than him. You brace yourself, one palm flat on the counter, the other resting on his shoulder. Taking whatever he gives.Â
He switches up. Everything becomes pointed and precise. He sucks marks into your skin on the underside of your breasts. He pinches and flicks the pert bud of your straining nipples. The contact of his fingers, tongue, and teeth sends white-hot jolts of electricity straight to your cunt. He bites down hard enough to make you choke on a moan. Your whine fills the room, twisted with pain and pleasure.Â
âYou poor thing,â he purrs. Your face is still wet from your tears. But now theyâre tears of frustration. âJust a mess.â You reach for his belt, impatient, but he stops you. Heâs not done looking. He lifts one of your legs, propping your foot onto the counter and posing you obscenely in front of him. His gaze makes your pussy throb.
Heâs torn.Â
Studying your face. Everything unsaid in your eyes. The anguish and rage. The acerbic disdain. The nearly imperceptible longing.Â
Admiring your sex, spread open for him. Shining with your arousal. Swollen, slick lips so sensitive for him. Your core, fluttering with anticipation, achingly empty without him.Â
He holds your chin between his thumb and curled forefinger. His eyes swirl with lust and something you canât quite place. âYou have no idea,â he rasps. âNo idea how much it fucking kills me to see you like this. And knowing Iâm the reason why.âÂ
You donât know if he means it breaks his heart to see the way you suffer or if he means the sight of you dripping on the counter has him so hard it hurts. You donât know which youâd believe anyway. Heâs not hard up to find someone else to torment or to fuck. That thought makes your throat dry.Â
âI canât stay away from you,â he traces his fingers down your soft inner thigh, closer and closer to where you need him. âHow could I?â You tip your head to the side, your limbs and head feel heavy, drunk on a cocktail of everything you love and hate about him all at once.Â
âThen donât.âÂ
Your reply makes him smile again. Heâs so handsome when he smiles itâs infuriating. âYou could scream at me, kick me out, hate meâbut you still let me touch you, you need me to touch you. Why do I love that so much?âÂ
âYou like feeling important.â You let your snarky comment out without thinking. His question was definitely rhetorical. A few emotions flicker across his face before, a dark little smirk curls the corner of his mouth.Â
He feeds off of your challenge. âThere she is.âÂ
âI never left,â you snap, frustration spilling over. He laughs, loose and easy.Â
âListen to me,â Lucien says, low and velvety. Subduing you with the tension and proximity. âI know. You want me to use you. Like youâre my toy. Until you canât keep those beautiful eyes open.â
âYes.âÂ
âI know.â He echoes. Then he closes the gap, kissing you with affection. Holding himself back, but you arenât reserved. Youâre greedy; you want it harder. He just said heâd ruin you, why is he being so gentle? He pulls back with something sincere in his eyes. A whimper falls from your lips, pouty and baffled.Â
âGonna fuck you like Iâm trying to ruin you, baby.âÂ
You narrow your eyes at him. Sometime soon, hopefully? You donât snap again, answering with another yes.Â
He leans in, breath fanning hot over your ear. âBut, we both know that tonight youâre the one using me. Ruining me. Iâm your toy.âÂ
Your breath hitches at that. You mouth I know in response, not even able to whisper it. He doesnât need to hear you say it. He nips your ear lobe and you loose a surprised cry before gasping out his name.Â
Heâs swift now. Purposeful. Undoing his belt, shoving his pants down and revealing his cock. Reflexively your hips tense and shift. Just looking makes you salivate. He runs his thumb over the bead of precome, drawing it along his length.Â
He knows how you want it. His fingers can coax you to an orgasm in no time, but you donât want that. You want the resistance, the stretch, the dull ache, and intensity as your muscles work to let him in deeper. Nobody makes you feel the way he does. Full. Complete. Mindless.Â
It could be pornographic, vulgar, raunchy. The way he pushes your inner thigh further open with one hand while he uses the other to languidly stroke himself. The way he grips himself so tightly like heâs punishing himself. The way his jaw hangs slack and he mutters under his breath about how badly you need him.Â
To you, however, itâs a profound admission. A candid confession. The more he goads you the more it solidifies that heâs the one that needs you. That it flows so easily from him because heâs really talking about himself.Â
âYou say you donât care anymore, but look at you now, baby.â He shifts closer, at counter height youâre aligned perfectly. He glides the head of his cock up and down the folds of your soaked cunt. You shudder and moan, mesmerized by the sight.Â
âItâs almost sad how much you need me, like you canât breathe without this,â he keeps talking.Â
He demands that you watch, as if there was a chance you could stop, as he lines up and sinks into you. You groan in unison. Youâre so tight, he draws back out. Repeating the same motion, feeding his cock into you deeper and deeper each time. Your hot, plush walls pulse around him, adjusting. When he finally meets the end of you, he hums, pleased. âYou feel that?âÂ
You bob your head, nodding, agreeing. âYes.â Your voice is breathy. âPerfect.â You grind against him as if you could take him any deeper, begging him to move with your needy display. Itâs wholly overwhelming as is, every nerve within you alight as his cock kicks within you, tensing with the same craving to move.Â
He takes your hand in his, nestling your fingers around him. Somehow he feels even larger than he looks, like he shouldnât be able to fit inside of you, but here you are feeling it and seeing it for yourself. Slowly, Lucien tilts his hips, almost pulling out of you completely before plunging in with force. He keeps up the tantalizing pace, guiding you to touch yourself. He watches your fingers with rapt attention, bracing a hand on your hip to keep you in place as he drives into you with another snap of his hips that edges you closer.Â
He gradually speeds up, a master at tempering his desire. Your hip flexor aches as you hold yourself in place but it doesnât matter. You find your rhythm as he holds steady at a pace that has him landing brutal thrusts that force the words out of your lungs. Soft ohâs and fuckâs pour out of you, under your breath, adding fuel to the fire blazing between you.Â
Lucien savors your chanting and the image of you fixed in place, taking him eagerly. Your fingers move with urgency, chasing the release that looms closer and closer. Your mind is blissfully blank, reduced to something animalistic, removed from the burden of your history. âDonât stop,â you plead, âIâm so close.âÂ
He doesnât stop. He fucks you at the same pace, all the way through it. As you contract around him, when everything pulls taut and snaps within you, crying out his name, when itâs too sensitive and you whip your hand away, and as you shudder and breathe deeper and deeper. As the ache in your legs from being spread wide open returns and your ass feels numb where the edge of the counter digs into your flesh. Another tear spills from the corner of your eye, but you canât say what itâs from anymore.Â
When you fidget, he stops moving, letting you readjust. A sheen of sweat glistens all over your chest and youâre suddenly acutely aware of how loud the slick noises between you are. How easy it is to get lost in Lucien's hot and heavy magnetism. You know you were falling apart before he propped you up on the counter, but youâre sure youâre a complete wreck now.Â
Lucien pulls out but then leans against you, pinning the length of his cock between you, hot, slick, and messy against your sweat-damp skin. He floods your senses, all you can see, hear, and smell. Caging you in his hand find a possessive hold on you, one wrapped around the back of your neck, one wrapped tight around your thigh as you hitch it around his hip.Â
âYou feel good?â he asks. You hum in agreement. You do feel good. You know heâs not done yet, and smile wide, still hungry for more. âHow good?â he asks and you know thereâs something coming next.Â
âSo good.â You trail a hand between you, drawing a line down his chest and back up to cradle his cheek in your palm. Something about the prickle of his facial hair along your palm feels so natural, domestic, and sweet. Youâre tempted to kiss his cheek, nuzzle against his ear, and ask him to take you to bed. But you canât. Youâll never have that. Instead, you bait him. âI think youâre holding back though, I know you can fuck me harder than that.âÂ
He scoffs, unamused, blowing a hot puff of air between you. His fingers dig deeper into your thigh, applying the kind of pressure that stirs arousal low in your belly.Â
The dark glint in his eye gives you butterflies. âI will, Baby,â his rumbling voice is innately sensual, but the condescension in his tone makes you tingly. Youâre so close to him that you can feel his heart beating in his chest, you can feel the same pulse thrumming in his cock, still flush against you as he slants his lower half along yours. Heâs all things heavy and firm, strong and sculpted, yet fitting so naturally against you. You need more, wriggling and squirming against him, you canât contain the restlessness.Â
âYou know,â he says slowly, drawing your eyes back to his. âYou can keep trying to move on, but no one else will ever know you like this. No one else will ever ruin you the way I do. You can tell me you donât care anymore, but youâll never let anyone else in the way you let me. They wonât touch that part of you, the one thatâs mineâbecause itâll always be mine.âÂ
It trickles through you slowly until your blood feels like itâs boiling. Theyâre tears of anger now. Itâs like a sick double entendre.Â
âI know,â your words are steeped in every emotion cascading through you.Â
You donât know if itâs worse that heâs right. That thereâs a Lucien-shaped mark imprinted on your heart that will never fade. Or if itâs worse that he doesnât even know it applies to him just the same. That he always comes back because heâs trying to fill the same void.Â
Maybe he does know. Maybe he does know and this is all he can do to make it up to you.Â
Maybe thatâs why he leads you to your bedroom and lives up to his word.Â
Why he fucks you so hard you see stars. Why he doesnât stop even after he comes deep inside of you with a possessive always gonna be mine. Why he litters your skin with more false promises and confessions. Why he gives you so many orgasms you lose track.Â
Maybe thatâs why heâs still there when the sun starts to peek through your window. Why he fucks you slowly when youâre too tender and exhausted to take him any harder until youâre floating in limbo between a dream and reality. Why he stays there, just cradling your back into his chest and listening to the rhythm of your breath.Â
Maybe he does know.Â
PLEASE COME YELL WITH ME ABOUT THIS FICTIONAL GUY BC I NEED HIM IN A SUPER NORMAL WAY or tell me if my writing was incoherent or if you can't relate to the toxic ex that is still the best fuck of your life (cruel and twisted fr)
dividers by @/cyberangel-graphics
tags for the babes that let me annoy them with my thots <3
@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange @itwasntimethatdidit40 @ivoryandflame
@magneticecstasy @indiegirlunited @syd-djarin
380 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ok, Iâm going to be dead serious here.
I always thought you were great, like fucking great, youâre able to always make me laugh so much and this is hard to do, I promise it is, there are professional comedians who will never make me laugh like you do (and also made me horny af), but I think youâve reached a superior level of greatness with this one, you broke the ceiling and surpassed it.
Itâs so fucking good I donât know enough words in English to say how truly good this is.
The tension, the angst, every word being so intense and perfect and a punch in the gut, itâs so painful and desperate and downright erotic OH. MY. GOD.
I loved everything about this and you also proved me another time to be so damn smart and profound and a beautiful human being â„ïž
You should be proud of yourself, I am proud of you, for sure, youâre brilliant đđ»
if you can't relate to the toxic ex that is still the best fuck of your life (cruel and twisted fr)
LOL I feel like you put this for me đ
Babe, I know everything about being in love with the wrong person and I know itâs so damn hard to let go and learn to seek for someone who just wants to be good and perfect for us every damn day. I get it. I did that. Iâm still so compelled to hug your reader and just lull her while I told her she deserves better and everything is going to be alright in the end, even when she thinks thereâs no point of return, even when she thinks she canât breathe anymore without that toxic person.
Love you more than yesterday and surely less than tomorrow â„ïž
he knows (lucien x f!reader)
(lucien x f!reader) | wc: 3.2k | other fics | pic from here
UH HEY! Iâm just gonna drop this here and scurry away to finish the other lucien one shot that i also started today, âŠ.and then iâll return to finishing divorced dad rock joel, and responding to all of the lovely people on hereâbut, like, i really just need this guy in the most emotionally unavailable and fuckable way, i hope one of y'all gets me
tags/warnings/thots: 18+/explicit, smut, toxic ex/fuckboy lucien, sex instead of communicating or processing emotions, angst but we fuckinâ and thatâs the whole plot, we hit raw in my fics bc of my imaginary latex aversion or something, crying, biting, dom lucien vibes (? i never know when thatâs the right tag), big dash of pls sexy man fuck the feelings away, tell me if thereâs something i should add Â
â no editing, no thinking, wrote this in a fever dream while staring at one of the new gifs all afternoon, idk his character! I havenât watched anything! i just saw the chains and the face and let the horny devil in charge of my sole brain cell take the lead, aka he's my barbie, i was trying to challenge myself to just do something short like 1k- but, uhhhh itâs only 3!Â
seeking feedback though (as always) so i can improve!! tell me all ur thots pls!Â
âI know,â Lucien argues, âbut I never meant to hurt you.âÂ
âI donât care anymore.â You speak plainly. Small and quiet. Without conviction. Apathetic. Honest.Â
âAnymore?âÂ
âBaby, please.â He looks at you with those stupid round eyes. Heâs effortlessly put together like the wrinkles in his silk shirt were approved by a team of stylists to give him a hint of carelessness. Your incessant attraction to an emotionally unavailable man, it pulls you toward him like a bitter fate. Your therapist, Angie, says you need to learn how to find healthy attachment attractive, but if you shudder with disgust at the thought then whatâs the point?Â
âJust listen to me,â he continues, talking in circles. Apologizing without taking accountability. Explaining away everything. His behaviors, words, decisions. Apparently, he floats through life at the whim of others. Like one of those ugly deep sea creatures, he tempts you like a glowing lure in the dark. Your eyes glaze over, everything shifting out of focus as you dissociate in your living room. No matter how numb you are, he calls to you.Â
You arenât listening to the words. They donât matter. It doesnât matter if his tone is sincere or if itâs thick with flattery and empty promises. Itâs more basic than that. Simple. The timbre of his voice. Unique to him. Imprinted in the chambers of your heart. A sharp ache spears through you, and something cracks. A fat, hot, tear escapes. With your shoulders drooping, staring at the ground, the tear falls, splashing on the floor.Â
When you look up, meeting his eyes, itâs over. Lucien pulls you close, wrapping his heavy arms around your frame, bracing for the crescendo, keeping you steady. Tears stream endlessly, flooding down your cheeks, sticking to your face and his neck as you bury your face into his warm skin. Heâs still trying to placate you, speaking nonsense, thinking he can comfort you. Thinking he knows why youâre upset. Thinking he understands you.Â
When your therapist asked you to define love you had described it as being understood. Being seen. Being known. Being considered and prioritized.Â
Lucien thinks he knows you. Thinks he understands you. Does he think he loves you?Â
Following this line of thought hurts. Splitting you open, a raw beating heart, glistening, thumping, full of life, or a meal fresh and hot for a carnivore to tear into with its sharp fangs. Plump muscle, rich and dark, bleeding out, helpless. Snapping back into reality you shake, a violent sob racking your diaphragm as the pads of his fingers massage the back of your neck. Soothing. Coaxing.Â
You want it sharper. Rough. Violent. Distracting. Painful. Anything. With wet lashes, swollen eyes, and ragged breath you become fixated. Licking the salty tears from the dip where his neck meets his shoulder, you can feel his muscles and tendons beneath the flesh. So human and alive. He strokes his hand down your spine, attempting to pacify you, but it sparks something lurid and ravenous, instead.Â
You graze your teeth along his neck. âWhat are you doing?â he mutters the question over the top of your head. Maybe he does know you. âWhat do you need?â He growls, lowly, the hand he traces your spine with trails lower this time. Heâs gluttonous and torrid. A hair-trigger to shift from his concern for your pain and the hole in your heart to a sordid desire to mollify you with his fingers and his cock.Â
Maybe itâs a perversion, the tangled experience of despair and desire, the duet of anger and arousal, the sick escape using sex to skip over the emotional suffering. But itâs exactly what you want. Itâs the root of the fucked up toxicity. Of everything wrong between you. He does know. He does understand. The same heat that flickers in your core sparks in his.Â
Voracious and brash. You bite down, sinking your teeth into his neck, igniting a wildfire. An untamable beast. Again and again and again. Biting, sucking, kissing. His skin tender and raw, your lips wet and swollen. You run a hand along the back of his neck, tugging into his hair, anchoring your grip, and pulling a husky groan from his throat.Â
âWhat do you need?â Lucien repeats, this time with a sharper edge. He detaches you from the safety of the crook of his neck. His two hands. Unnecessarily large, warm, and steady brace either side of your jaw, his fingers wrapping behind your neck. He holds you in front of his face. Vulnerable. Messy. Heat radiates from your cheeks. You release a shaky breath.Â
âDonât make me say it.â Itâs a whisper. Pleading and demanding at the same time.Â
The cocky smirk that spreads on his face is sickening. It makes you want to slap him, to hear the crack of your palm against his cheek. It makes you want to surrender. Soft and pliable, ready to please and earn praise. It makes you want to scream. To bite him so hard you draw blood. To fuck him until he canât talk.Â
You tell him all of it. Exactly what you need, what you want, what you refuse to say. You tell him all through your kiss. The hunger in your lips as you press them to his, the violence on your tongue, the desperate and vulnerable need to be cared for in the soft moans that rise from your chest, from your heart, from the blood in your veins. He chases all of it. The punishment and pleasure.Â
He backs you into the kitchen, caging you against the counter like a scene from a movie. Impervious to whatever protest you make as he clears space, blindly sweeping his arm over the counter before lifting you onto it. The edge of the counter digs into your soft thighs, but it doesnât matter. Youâre ready to drown in the vanilla musk and bourbon-spiced scent of him. The bass in his voice that makes your eyes fall shut and your head tip back against the cupboard behind you. The bruising pressure of his grip that he knows you crave.Â
âBaby,â he croons. His words are soft and gentle. As if he propped you on the counter to tend to your wounds. But his hands show no mercy. Roughly ridding you of your clothes. Dropping them into a pile on the floor. Heâs ruthless with you. In ways you canât be with yourself. In ways other lovers could never master. Harsh without being cruel. Deliberate without a plan.Â
He lets you tug his shirt over his head. Skin to skin the intensity is primal. âFuck,â is all you can manage to say. The heat is overwhelming, prickling your nerves and sharpening every sensation. Lucien toys with you like itâs his favorite game. Alternating.Â
First, palming reverently at the flesh, sweeping his tongue over your hard nipples, and teasing the wet skin with his hot breath.Â
You let him make the decisions. Take the lead. Youâre done arguing, done thinking, done with the guilt of letting him in the door, done with acting like youâre any better than him. You brace yourself, one palm flat on the counter, the other resting on his shoulder. Taking whatever he gives.Â
He switches up. Everything becomes pointed and precise. He sucks marks into your skin on the underside of your breasts. He pinches and flicks the pert bud of your straining nipples. The contact of his fingers, tongue, and teeth sends white-hot jolts of electricity straight to your cunt. He bites down hard enough to make you choke on a moan. Your whine fills the room, twisted with pain and pleasure.Â
âYou poor thing,â he purrs. Your face is still wet from your tears. But now theyâre tears of frustration. âJust a mess.â You reach for his belt, impatient, but he stops you. Heâs not done looking. He lifts one of your legs, propping your foot onto the counter and posing you obscenely in front of him. His gaze makes your pussy throb.
Heâs torn.Â
Studying your face. Everything unsaid in your eyes. The anguish and rage. The acerbic disdain. The nearly imperceptible longing.Â
Admiring your sex, spread open for him. Shining with your arousal. Swollen, slick lips so sensitive for him. Your core, fluttering with anticipation, achingly empty without him.Â
He holds your chin between his thumb and curled forefinger. His eyes swirl with lust and something you canât quite place. âYou have no idea,â he rasps. âNo idea how much it fucking kills me to see you like this. And knowing Iâm the reason why.âÂ
You donât know if he means it breaks his heart to see the way you suffer or if he means the sight of you dripping on the counter has him so hard it hurts. You donât know which youâd believe anyway. Heâs not hard up to find someone else to torment or to fuck. That thought makes your throat dry.Â
âI canât stay away from you,â he traces his fingers down your soft inner thigh, closer and closer to where you need him. âHow could I?â You tip your head to the side, your limbs and head feel heavy, drunk on a cocktail of everything you love and hate about him all at once.Â
âThen donât.âÂ
Your reply makes him smile again. Heâs so handsome when he smiles itâs infuriating. âYou could scream at me, kick me out, hate meâbut you still let me touch you, you need me to touch you. Why do I love that so much?âÂ
âYou like feeling important.â You let your snarky comment out without thinking. His question was definitely rhetorical. A few emotions flicker across his face before, a dark little smirk curls the corner of his mouth.Â
He feeds off of your challenge. âThere she is.âÂ
âI never left,â you snap, frustration spilling over. He laughs, loose and easy.Â
âListen to me,â Lucien says, low and velvety. Subduing you with the tension and proximity. âI know. You want me to use you. Like youâre my toy. Until you canât keep those beautiful eyes open.â
âYes.âÂ
âI know.â He echoes. Then he closes the gap, kissing you with affection. Holding himself back, but you arenât reserved. Youâre greedy; you want it harder. He just said heâd ruin you, why is he being so gentle? He pulls back with something sincere in his eyes. A whimper falls from your lips, pouty and baffled.Â
âGonna fuck you like Iâm trying to ruin you, baby.âÂ
You narrow your eyes at him. Sometime soon, hopefully? You donât snap again, answering with another yes.Â
He leans in, breath fanning hot over your ear. âBut, we both know that tonight youâre the one using me. Ruining me. Iâm your toy.âÂ
Your breath hitches at that. You mouth I know in response, not even able to whisper it. He doesnât need to hear you say it. He nips your ear lobe and you loose a surprised cry before gasping out his name.Â
Heâs swift now. Purposeful. Undoing his belt, shoving his pants down and revealing his cock. Reflexively your hips tense and shift. Just looking makes you salivate. He runs his thumb over the bead of precome, drawing it along his length.Â
He knows how you want it. His fingers can coax you to an orgasm in no time, but you donât want that. You want the resistance, the stretch, the dull ache, and intensity as your muscles work to let him in deeper. Nobody makes you feel the way he does. Full. Complete. Mindless.Â
It could be pornographic, vulgar, raunchy. The way he pushes your inner thigh further open with one hand while he uses the other to languidly stroke himself. The way he grips himself so tightly like heâs punishing himself. The way his jaw hangs slack and he mutters under his breath about how badly you need him.Â
To you, however, itâs a profound admission. A candid confession. The more he goads you the more it solidifies that heâs the one that needs you. That it flows so easily from him because heâs really talking about himself.Â
âYou say you donât care anymore, but look at you now, baby.â He shifts closer, at counter height youâre aligned perfectly. He glides the head of his cock up and down the folds of your soaked cunt. You shudder and moan, mesmerized by the sight.Â
âItâs almost sad how much you need me, like you canât breathe without this,â he keeps talking.Â
He demands that you watch, as if there was a chance you could stop, as he lines up and sinks into you. You groan in unison. Youâre so tight, he draws back out. Repeating the same motion, feeding his cock into you deeper and deeper each time. Your hot, plush walls pulse around him, adjusting. When he finally meets the end of you, he hums, pleased. âYou feel that?âÂ
You bob your head, nodding, agreeing. âYes.â Your voice is breathy. âPerfect.â You grind against him as if you could take him any deeper, begging him to move with your needy display. Itâs wholly overwhelming as is, every nerve within you alight as his cock kicks within you, tensing with the same craving to move.Â
He takes your hand in his, nestling your fingers around him. Somehow he feels even larger than he looks, like he shouldnât be able to fit inside of you, but here you are feeling it and seeing it for yourself. Slowly, Lucien tilts his hips, almost pulling out of you completely before plunging in with force. He keeps up the tantalizing pace, guiding you to touch yourself. He watches your fingers with rapt attention, bracing a hand on your hip to keep you in place as he drives into you with another snap of his hips that edges you closer.Â
He gradually speeds up, a master at tempering his desire. Your hip flexor aches as you hold yourself in place but it doesnât matter. You find your rhythm as he holds steady at a pace that has him landing brutal thrusts that force the words out of your lungs. Soft ohâs and fuckâs pour out of you, under your breath, adding fuel to the fire blazing between you.Â
Lucien savors your chanting and the image of you fixed in place, taking him eagerly. Your fingers move with urgency, chasing the release that looms closer and closer. Your mind is blissfully blank, reduced to something animalistic, removed from the burden of your history. âDonât stop,â you plead, âIâm so close.âÂ
He doesnât stop. He fucks you at the same pace, all the way through it. As you contract around him, when everything pulls taut and snaps within you, crying out his name, when itâs too sensitive and you whip your hand away, and as you shudder and breathe deeper and deeper. As the ache in your legs from being spread wide open returns and your ass feels numb where the edge of the counter digs into your flesh. Another tear spills from the corner of your eye, but you canât say what itâs from anymore.Â
When you fidget, he stops moving, letting you readjust. A sheen of sweat glistens all over your chest and youâre suddenly acutely aware of how loud the slick noises between you are. How easy it is to get lost in Lucien's hot and heavy magnetism. You know you were falling apart before he propped you up on the counter, but youâre sure youâre a complete wreck now.Â
Lucien pulls out but then leans against you, pinning the length of his cock between you, hot, slick, and messy against your sweat-damp skin. He floods your senses, all you can see, hear, and smell. Caging you in his hand find a possessive hold on you, one wrapped around the back of your neck, one wrapped tight around your thigh as you hitch it around his hip.Â
âYou feel good?â he asks. You hum in agreement. You do feel good. You know heâs not done yet, and smile wide, still hungry for more. âHow good?â he asks and you know thereâs something coming next.Â
âSo good.â You trail a hand between you, drawing a line down his chest and back up to cradle his cheek in your palm. Something about the prickle of his facial hair along your palm feels so natural, domestic, and sweet. Youâre tempted to kiss his cheek, nuzzle against his ear, and ask him to take you to bed. But you canât. Youâll never have that. Instead, you bait him. âI think youâre holding back though, I know you can fuck me harder than that.âÂ
He scoffs, unamused, blowing a hot puff of air between you. His fingers dig deeper into your thigh, applying the kind of pressure that stirs arousal low in your belly.Â
The dark glint in his eye gives you butterflies. âI will, Baby,â his rumbling voice is innately sensual, but the condescension in his tone makes you tingly. Youâre so close to him that you can feel his heart beating in his chest, you can feel the same pulse thrumming in his cock, still flush against you as he slants his lower half along yours. Heâs all things heavy and firm, strong and sculpted, yet fitting so naturally against you. You need more, wriggling and squirming against him, you canât contain the restlessness.Â
âYou know,â he says slowly, drawing your eyes back to his. âYou can keep trying to move on, but no one else will ever know you like this. No one else will ever ruin you the way I do. You can tell me you donât care anymore, but youâll never let anyone else in the way you let me. They wonât touch that part of you, the one thatâs mineâbecause itâll always be mine.âÂ
It trickles through you slowly until your blood feels like itâs boiling. Theyâre tears of anger now. Itâs like a sick double entendre.Â
âI know,â your words are steeped in every emotion cascading through you.Â
You donât know if itâs worse that heâs right. That thereâs a Lucien-shaped mark imprinted on your heart that will never fade. Or if itâs worse that he doesnât even know it applies to him just the same. That he always comes back because heâs trying to fill the same void.Â
Maybe he does know. Maybe he does know and this is all he can do to make it up to you.Â
Maybe thatâs why he leads you to your bedroom and lives up to his word.Â
Why he fucks you so hard you see stars. Why he doesnât stop even after he comes deep inside of you with a possessive always gonna be mine. Why he litters your skin with more false promises and confessions. Why he gives you so many orgasms you lose track.Â
Maybe thatâs why heâs still there when the sun starts to peek through your window. Why he fucks you slowly when youâre too tender and exhausted to take him any harder until youâre floating in limbo between a dream and reality. Why he stays there, just cradling your back into his chest and listening to the rhythm of your breath.Â
Maybe he does know.Â
PLEASE COME YELL WITH ME ABOUT THIS FICTIONAL GUY BC I NEED HIM IN A SUPER NORMAL WAY or tell me if my writing was incoherent or if you can't relate to the toxic ex that is still the best fuck of your life (cruel and twisted fr)
dividers by @/cyberangel-graphics
tags for the babes that let me annoy them with my thots <3
@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange @itwasntimethatdidit40 @ivoryandflame
@magneticecstasy @indiegirlunited @syd-djarin
#pedro pascal#lucien de leon x you#lucien de leon x reader#lucien de leon x f!reader#the uninvited#pedro pascal character fanfic#ppcu fanfic#ppcu fanfiction
380 notes
·
View notes