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nhl-stories · 1 year

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You Stupid Bitch – Leon Draisaitl

Summary: Leon is stupidly, hopelessly in love. Too bad the object of his affection has terrible taste.

Author’s Note: Just some good old unrequited love getting requited

Word Count: 7k

Album Series Mastlerlist

You stupid bitch, can't you see? The perfect one for you is me

Leon hears the yelling before he gets to the front door. Screaming is probably a more accurate word. He stops and ponders whether he should ring the doorbell or not when the door opens and a woman almost runs him over.

“Good luck with that psycho bitch,” she half-addresses Leon and half screams it over her shoulder into the house before she storms off to her car.

“Nice to see you too, Dawn,” he mumbles before he lets himself into the house.

The house is almost a mirror version of his next door and he moves through the open floor plan until he finds Chloe.

“Fuck,” Leon stops in his tracks when he sees her lip bleeding, “did she do that?”

She touches her lip to see the blood while Leon goes to the freezer to grab an ice pack.

“Dammit, and technically yes.”

Leon whips around at that comment, “calm down, it was during sex. The sex was foreplay for the fight.”

Leon gives her disgusted look while handing her the ice.

“Aren’t Germans supposed to be into really kinky shit? Cause I’m real sick of this resting judgmental face you have.”

Leon just continues to stare.

“What are you doing here?”

“You have my dog.”

As if on cue, Bowie comes running through the dog door followed by Chloe’s fluffy orange cat, Baron. He picks up his dog and snuggles him close, Baron jumps up on the counter feeling left out.

“So, you and Dawn are done?”

Leon tries to be casual, not seem too interested, but he’s dying to know. Despite seeming like a grumpy annoyed neighbor, which yes, he’s that too, he’s hopelessly in love with Chloe.

“Yes, and don’t say I told you so.”

“I won’t, but she did string you along for months and then treated you horribly while you dated, if you can even call what you two did dating.”

Chloe ignores the fact that without actually using the words ‘I told you so,’ he basically did.

“Ohhh, but the sex was so good.”

“Other people are good at sex,” he’s glad his scruff is thick enough to hide the blush he can feel creeping up his face.

“You want to stay for dinner?” She moves the ice pack and touches her lip again, the bleeding’s stopped.

“I have food that I need to cook before it goes bad,” he starts to turn to leave and pauses, “want to come over?”

“Do I have to put on pants?”

Leon turns and peers around the kitchen island to see Chloe is only wearing a long sleeve t-shirt that only barely covers the good bits. Leon second guesses his invite.

“It’s fucking cold out.”

“You’re right next door, I’ll run.”

“And I was going to leisurely walk over.”

“Fine, I’ll put on pants.”

“And bring some wine.”

///

After her latest breakup, Leon resolves to tell Chloe how he feels; or at the very least make his feelings more obvious. He says he’ll do this every time and he never follows through, which is extra frustrating because Leon follows through on every other thing in his life.

He swears this time will be different.

It isn’t.

A parade of suitors, or at least that’s the respectable way to call them, parades through Chloe’s door until one sticks. His name is Michael or Matthew or something.

Leon doesn’t care to remember, but is polite enough when he meets him the first time. He gives off a weird vibe that Leon is suspect of, partly because of his own feelings and partly because Chloe infamously has bad taste in partners.

Leon gives them a month. If he was a betting man, he would have cashed out big.

30 days into their relationship Chloe is passed out on Leon’s couch, her black cocktail dress riding up precariously high, one heel still on.

She had barged in last night while he had some teammates over. She was completely plastered and complaining about something but was too incoherent to be entirely understandable, just enough that Leon knew the problem was whatshisface.

Bowie jumps onto the couch before Leon can stop him and starts licking her face.

She groans, but indulges the dog with a pet.

“Fuck, Bowie don’t let me drink that much ever again,” the dog just snuggles into her more, “and don’t let me spend the night in this brutalism hell your dad calls a home.”

She squeezes her eyes shut as if it will block out Leon’s neutral, modern décor.

“Sorry, I don’t live in the clown house you’re accustomed to,” he laughs but doesn’t get a snarky response, “how are you feeling?”

“Like drilling a hole into my head will make me feel better.”

“So, you either had a really fun or a really bad night.”

“Very bad, first Mitchell stands me up because apparently he’s not ready to be a public couple or some shit and then I got too deep into the open bar and probably did something to embarrass my brother, so that’s another thing I’ll have deal with later.”

She squeezes at her temples, like that will help the hangover, “and I clearly remember at least Connor being here last night, so I can only imagine I further embarrassed myself.”

Leon picks up a pair of neon orange, lacey underwear and tosses it towards her, “you insisted on showing us your tattoo,” Leon grins remembering her showing off the colorful ‘Pow’ tattooed on her butt cheek.

“Jesus, and you did nothing to stop me? Protect my modesty or whatever?”

“I enjoyed the show,” he gives a crooked smile.

She lets out a heavy sigh then opens her arms wide, “Can you carry me home?”

“What? No!” He fights but he knows if she asks again, he’ll do it, he can’t say no to her.

“This wouldn’t be a big deal if you let me build the skybridge between our places,” she sulks, “then Bowie could see his boyfriend any time he wants.”

Leon rolls his eyes and moves to pick her up, hoping it will shut her up.

“My dog is not your cat’s boyfriend.”

She wraps her arms around his shoulders to hold on and Leon feels warm all over. Is hyper-aware of where his hand is gripping her bare thigh, how soft her skin is against his calloused fingers.

“They’re totally obsessed with each other and they don’t have reproductive organs so it’s not like they can commit a crime against nature or anything.”

He just gives a neutral hum in response, trying to enjoy the moment of Chloe in his arms and not let the warmth migrate south. He stops by the door and piles her purse and coat on top of her, covering up the neon underwear she never put back on.

He walks out into the cold and hopes none of their neighbors choose to look outside now. The last thing he needs is a picture of him carrying a commando Chloe back to her house, his brain hurts just thinking about the fallout something like that would cause.

They get into her house, which despite the similar layout looks so different from his own home; all bright colors and loud patterns, nothing matches, yet it all goes together. He would never tell her to her face but he loves it, it feels like a lived-in and well-loved house.

Baron comes to rub up against his legs and he has to gently nudge him away as he carries Chloe up the stairs. He’s only been in her room once before, when painters had come on the wrong day and the fumes made it impossible to take a pre-game nap, he remembers never wanting to leave.

Leon drops her unceremoniously on the bed, his arms shaking a little from carrying her so long. She mumbles something into the blankets as she moves to curl up like a cat in the middle of the bed.

It’s a giant circular bed with a deep blue velvet bedframe and headboard, something you’d imagine seeing in an old Hollywood movie.

Marlene Dietrich.

He remembers Chloe mentioning her during one their first meetings.

Alone in an elevator she just blurted it out, “I love Marlene Dietrich, my dad and I used to watch all her movies.”

“What?” He wasn’t sure he had heard her correctly.

“Marlene Dietrich, she’s German. You’re German,” she scrunched up her eyes and groaned in embarrassment, “never mind just ignore me, I just did that stupid annoying thing where you say the one thing you know about where someone is from as if that means anything to them.”

“Like if I said you’re from Canada and told you I’m a huge fan of Wayne Gretzky or maple syrup.”

“Yeah, though that doesn’t work as well because I actually know Wayne Gretzky and everyone loves maple syrup” she flashed him a smile before exiting the elevator.

Leon shakes himself out of the memory, realizing he’s been zoning out and staring at Chloe for too long, like some kind of creep. She doesn’t seem to acknowledge his presence.

“I always picture your room as more of a sex dungeon.”

“Sex dungeon is down the hall,” she doesn’t skip a beat even through a pounding headache and the comfort of her bed.

“Feel better, I’ll uh- see you later.”

“Wait, when do you head out on the road?”

“Tomorrow.”

She holds out her arms and makes a grabbing motion, “hug for good luck.”

She doesn’t make it easy for him, he has to crawl to the middle of the bed and it’s an awkward hug where his arms can’t quite get around her. But she squeezes him tightly and he wants to just collapse onto the bed and hold her until the rest of the world melts away.

Instead, he presses a kiss to her temple. Maybe lingering a second too long, taking the time to imagine a world where Chloe is waiting for him in her bed, waiting for his kisses and his touch and his love. He pulls away before he gets too deep into his fantasy.

///

Before Chloe was his neighbor or de facto dog sitter or even his unrequited love, she was a face in the crowd he couldn’t escape.

If Edmonton bigwigs stopped by practice or the locker room after a game she was there, with varying levels of enthusiasm. If there was a charity event at a hospital or a school or anywhere, there she was directing people on where to go or hands on a craft. If there was a gala he was forced to go to as a face of the Oilers, there she was dressed to the nines and rubbing elbows.

From what he gathered she worked for a foundation or something, Leon didn’t pay her much mind, though he was curious. She was young, within a year or two of his age, but she could run a room of rich, white men.

She simultaneously fit in and stood out in every crowd and that fascinated Leon, who often felt out of place in the off-ice world hockey had forced him into.

Then at one gala, she was talking to Connor and he found his in. Instead of having an enlightened conversation he was met with a spill of red wine when she turned around quickly as he was walking up. She apologized profusely as Leon could feel the wine drip down his chest.

She insisted on taking care of the dry cleaning, giving Leon the address of her place. When he went to pick up the suit he was greeted with his now-clean suit, a new custom-made suit, and a note:

Thought you could use a spare gala suit in case you run into a drunk socialite who’s ruder than me. I probably owe you dinner too

xo, Chloe Cohn

Suddenly it was clear, she wasn’t just someone who worked for the foundation, she was the name behind it. It was a pretty ubiquitous surname around the city.

All of this to say, it’s why Leon is willingly at a gala event mid-season, any excuse to be in the same room as Chloe.

It’s also come at an especially crucial moment in time because Chloe said she’s taking a break from dating. A first for her, or at least a first since Leon has known her. Making it a perfect time for Leon to double-down on his resolution, without competition from anyone else.

For once, he actually starts to follow through. It’s nothing big: wrapping an arm around her shoulder for casual contact, bringing her flowers to thank her for watching Bowie, sitting closer than normal when they have an evening glass of wine.

It’s pathetically small if he thinks about it, but it’s forward motion so it feels like a breakthrough.

Chloe is across the room wearing gown so deeply purple it’s almost black. While she has a fairly boyish figure, there’s nothing boyish about how she looks in that dress, somehow finding a floor-length dress that can show off too much skin on display to be appropriate for this event. Leon can feel his throat getting dry as he watches her chat up a group.

“If you keep staring like that, all of Edmonton will know you’re in love with her before she does,” Connor laughs as he and Lauren sidle up next to him.

“You’re leering,” Lauren adds, “not that I can blame you, but tone it down in public.”

Leon takes a large swig of his drink in response.

“Hey guys, thanks for coming. Oilers always help donations go up,” Chloe’s brother Peter, the head of whatever enterprises the Cohn family owns, comes up and shakes their hands.

“Of course, happy to help while enjoying an open bar,” Leon jokes and Peter laughs along with him.

“And I assume you’re keeping an eye on my sister,” Lauren chokes on her drink next to them, “lord knows she needs someone to keep the riff raff away.”

“Well- uh,” Leon stutters.

Peter always makes him nervous, he’s almost a decade older than Chloe, making him have a paternal air about him. Leon always has a hard time reading whether he’s being a stern father figure or a joking older brother, his relationship with his own sister is so drastically different.

Peter claps his shoulder, “I’m kidding, many have tried but she’s the only one who can keep herself out of trouble.”

“Stop harassing my neighbor, Petey,” Chloe teases her brother and before cuddling up to Leon, like she’s protecting him from her own sibling.

He looks his sister up and down, “You’re not planning on embarrassing yourself tonight, are you?”

“I apologized about my behavior at your birthday,” she says like a petulant child.

Leon sees Connor and Lauren get pulled away into another conversation and now he’s trapped in this passive aggressive sibling moment.

Her brother just gives her a l look that screams, ‘I’m not mad just disappointed.’

“Besides I have to cause a scandal here and there if I seem too similar to the golden child people might start putting me in charge of more things.”

“And god forbid that happens.”

Leon knows this is a weird gray area between the siblings. Equal parts a long running gag and a major point of contention. Chloe more than happy being in charge of the of the Cohn Foundation and nothing else, while her brother believes she’s smart enough to take on a bigger role in the business-side of the operation.

“And you have to admit, it’s been a while since I caused an ‘incident’, that’s personal growth.”

“The last incident was you bringing a prostitute to dad’s funeral, so no one has forgotten about that one.”

“They were a stripper, not prostitute and I was dating them, Dad had met them and was a fan. And at least in my mourning I didn’t try to marry someone without getting a prenup.”

“Okay truce, Clo,” he holds his hands up in surrender, “But cool it on the champagne, you have a speech to give later. Draisaitl maybe keep an eye on her,” he smirks.

“Leave Leon out of this,” she subtly flips him off before shooing him away to go mingle.

She’s still pressed up against Leon’s side and then looks up and smiles at him like they’re the only ones in the room. He gingerly moves his hand to her waist.

“But actually, maybe keep an eye on me, I do have to talk.”

The warmth connecting them is severed when a voice calls out to Chloe and an older woman goes in for a hug. He hates the feeling of her skin slipping away under his fingers.

“I should have known I’d find you by the dashing Mr. Draisaitl.”

Chloe does a quick intro, stopping Leon from slipping away to another conversation. Though another conversation with a random Edmontonian might be worse than this, the more VIP the person the more likely they seem to give advice on his on-ice performance.

“I just wanted to grab you and let you know Caleb is moving back to Edmonton.”

“Oh.”

Her face loses its emotion and Leon thinks maybe another conversation would be better than this.

“And I was thinking if you were free, you’d help get him reacquainted with the city.”

“Um- I – I could probably find the time,” she stammers, “He’s really moving back? He always said he’d rather die than come back here.”

“People thought you’d never come home, but things change,” there’s something under the woman’s tone that Leon doesn’t like, “I’ll give Caleb your number.”

“Great,” Chloe has a stiff smile as the woman walks off.

As soon as the woman is clearly out of earshot she turns to Leon, “I’m gonna give my little speech now, but do want to share a car home afterwards?”

“Yeah,” he gives a soft smile, hoping it will help relieve some of the tension crossing her face.

Later, they’re waiting for a car to pull around; Chloe leaning into his side trying to combat the cold in her thin dress. She puts more weight on him, like all her exhaustion caught up with her in the distance from the door to the curb. His nerves are singing at the contact.

When they climb into the back of the car Chloe scoots right up next to him, even though she has the whole back seat to spread out in. Leaning her head on his shoulder. He wraps an arm around her and pulls her tight.

He wants to ask her about this Caleb guy, but he doesn’t want to pop this bubble they’re in. He needs to enjoy this moment.

If he was braver, he’d seize this moment and confess his love.

///

Turns out Caleb is an ex-boyfriend or the one who got away or something along those lines. Chloe is never completely clear about it.

All Leon knows is he really hates him.

Leon can already feel all his forward progress slipping away and he’s worried with the upcoming road trip that when he comes home Chloe will have a new boyfriend. He’s even more worried that this one might actually last. Caleb has some history and connections Leon doesn’t know he can compete with.

He feels more certain about it when he happens to look up at the jumbotron during their final game of their homestand and sees Chloe squeezing Caleb into her side as she cheers into the camera. They look natural together. Leon takes his anger out on his mouth guard, tensing his jaw.

“She’s wearing your jersey.”

Connor doesn’t normally do small talk on the bench, but he can tell this is not the kind of anger that lights a fire under his teammate and makes him perform better. It’s the kind of frustration that makes Leon unbalanced and erratic.

“I can have Lauren try and get some intel while we’re away.”

It’s not a good solution, but it’s enough for him to loosen his jaw up a little; it gets him back on solid ground.

“So, what’s up with you and that new guy,” Lauren casually asks while on a walk with Lenny and Bowie.

“I don’t know,” Chloe shrugs, getting a little uncomfortable.

“Connor just said you guys were looking cozy on the jumbotron, I thought I’d ask,”

She’s working her best nonchalant tone to make Chloe comfortable enough to spill, it works.

“I’ve been in love with him like my whole life,” she groans like there’s never been anything more embarrassing in the world.

“So, something’s going on then?”

“Yes? No? I don’t know, it’s weird.”

Lauren just nods, encouraging her to go on.

“Little rich girls are supposed to grow up and marry little rich boys and he was so cute and smart that I was always fine with those expectations if it meant I got Caleb in the end. But for him I was never well-behaved or pretty or womanly enough but I just kept coming back and trying again.”

The dogs seem to sense the shift in the mood and whine and look at the women.

“By the end of uni I moved back home and he moved to Toronto and I thought I got passed all of it. But he’s back and it’s been years, we’re full adults, so maybe it’s different this time around.”

“Maybe,” Lauren has worry pooled between her brows, “but maybe it isn’t.”

To say the news puts a damper on Leon’s outlook is an understatement. He has a reputation for being grumpy or brooding, but this is a new level and it’s not going unnoticed. The only consolation is he’s excelling on the ice, it might not be the best coping mechanism but it’s working for him.

However, when he’s off the ice, he’s wallowing in his depression. Currently, it’s taking form in lying face down on his couch for the past 3 hours, not sleeping, not thinking, just in a fugue state.

The doorbell rings.

He’s not expecting anyone so he doesn’t make the effort to move. It rings again and he’s tempted for a second to go check. It’s when he hears a key in the door that he knows it’s Chloe. He still doesn’t move, worried that if he looks at her, he might cry or something.

She sets something down on the coffee table and sits down on the floor in front of him.

“I wanted to check on you, since you’ve been ignoring my texts and then came and took Bowie in the cover of the night.”

“You weren’t home when I got back,” he mutters into the couch.

“Okay, but it’s weird for me not to see you for so long after you come home, just wanted to see if you’re feeling alright,” she gently rubs a hand up and down his shoulder and back.

He finally turns his head to look and can’t help smiling back at her sweet, coy smile.

“Yeah, just the season catching up with me,” the lie feels heavy on his tongue.

“You can’t tell on the ice; you’re playing really well.”

“Thanks,” he sees the bouquet of orange and yellow flowers on the table, “Those for me?”

“Thought it could brighten the place up,” her smile is infectious, “boys deserve pretty things too.”

She’s the only pretty thing he wants, needs.

Leon finally sits up; he hates how much lighter he feels in Chloe’s presence. Ignoring her wasn’t helping him get over anything, just making it worse.

“Wanna hang out and order some food in?” He might as well go all in.

Her smile fades for a second, but she recovers quickly, “I would but–“

“You have plans that’s fine,” a chill runs through his chest.

“Yeah, but I can cancel if you need someone.”

She places a hand on his knee, her touch lights him on fire; he can’t tell if the burn is good or bad.

“No, don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure? It’s really not a problem.”

“Really, it’s fine.”

“Okay, another time then,” she uses his knees to help herself up and gives him a quick peck on the cheek, “soon.”

“Yeah, soon.”

///

He doesn’t really mean soon with any gumption, but he comes when she calls like a puppy.

Not that he could really turn this down: it’s for a kid.

He comes into the Cohn wing of the children’s hospital, he’s not wearing any Oiler gear he doesn’t want to be too noticeable, when he sees Chloe making faces against the glass of a kid’s room.

He can’t help the warm feeling that grows in his chest, or the husky laugh he lets out.

“Oh hey, you made it!” she makes one more face, and the child on the other side of the glass kisses her nose.

It’s the last thing he needs to see while he’s trying to “get over” her, not that he’ll ever actually get over her. But it’s hard not to feel something stir in his chest when he sees how much she cares about people. She could just live her life as a rich heiress and instead she’s here.

She walks over and gives him a big hug, “I know that this isn’t the ideal way to spend an off day, but it really means a lot to me.”

“Happy to help.”

“She’s down this way,” she grabs his hand to pull him along and it takes all his concentration to stop from flinching at the electric current between them.

She stops him just outside of the door and peers around the corner, “Hey May… I have a surprise for you.”

“A kidney?” The little voice responds.

Leon’s heart breaks a little.

“Okay sorry, I might have come on a little strong, but I promise it’s a really good surprise,” she walks further into the and waves Leon to follow him.

When he rounds the corner the little girl’s eyes bug out of her head. Leon can’t help but grin.

“Hi May, good to see you again.”

She stares in awe for a few seconds longer before running up and giving him a hug. Leon feels his back strain when he bends down so he picks her up to squeeze her tight.

Leon had met her a few times at Oilers visits, she’s obsessed with Bowie and therefore a little obsessed with his owner. When Chloe had learned this information, she got the young girl a stuffed dog that look remarkably like Bowie, forcing Leon to sign a little note in a locket the dog wore around its collar.

He sets the girl down and she starts talking a mile a minute.

“Did Chloe give you the picture of us?”

“Yeah, I have it on my fridge so I see it almost every morning.”

May had autographed the photo of the pair coloring around Christmas. It was stuck to his fridge under a Köln magnet; partly because it was cute and partly because Chloe thought it was ‘so fucking cute, this little girl is melting your icy heart.’

Leon shows May about 1,000 pictures of Bowie, he doesn’t want admit he loves when he can show off the dog, most people would get bored after a couple.

“Maybe when I get out of the hospital I can meet him,” May has a pair of eyes that could put Bowie’s to shame.

“You have yourself a deal,” Leon shakes her hand, exaggeratingly shaking her arm until she dissolves into giggles.

The soft, loving smile on Chloe’s face is a bit of a bonus, too.

The trio plays a few card games, he can’t help but notice the stupid grin Chloe gets every once in a while, reading a text, he tries to power through without getting too angry.

“Chloe are you sure you can’t give me a kidney?”

Leon has half a mind to forfeit the rest of his season to give her one of his.

“If I had a spare kidney to give I would,” she gives a sad smile, “but you know nurse Jordy?”

The little girl nods, squeezing stuffed Bowie closer to her.

“I gave him one of my kidneys when he was 12, and look at him now! He’s healthy and he’s helping you guys out and that’s gonna be you next.”

“I don’t want to be a nurse,” she pouts, picking up on a specific detail like only a child can.

“You don’t have to be, but a new kidney is heading your way and you’re gonna get healthy and strong like him.”

That seems to appease her, until it’s time to say good bye. She gets a bit teary and it makes Leon never want to leave.

“Thanks again for doing that,” Chloe says as she walks to the parking garage with Leon.

“Of course, she’s a sweet kid.”

Chloe’s phone buzzes and she’s quick to open the notification, that goofy grin spreading across her face.

Since he’s a glutton for punishment he asks, “who’s got you smiling like that?

“Just Caleb, he’s so stupid,” her tone has too much adoration in it.

“Say hi to your boyfriend for me.”

He doesn’t mean for it to sound so brusque; he just can’t help it. He hates how his blood boils thinking about it, how he wants to be the one that makes her smile like that to herself, like the joy is bursting out of her.

She pinches her lips together and narrows her eyes at Leon, “it’s not–“

She pauses to like she’s needs to rethink her phrasing, instead she just rolls her eyes and gives him a little shove.

Leon gets in his car and drives home angry.

///

He doesn’t consistently pick up on the road, but he does on this trip. Two nights in a row.

The first night it’s a woman who looks too much like Chloe. He thought it would be therapeutic, despite the looks Connor gave him as he left the bar with her. It’s not. That’s what he gets for not following Connor’s advice, even non-verbal advice.

Her eyes are the same shade of light brown as Chloe’s, he has to turn her over to avoid any eye contact. But her hair still reminds him of Chloe’s and he fucks her fast and rough, just to feel angry, to feel anything.

The next night he picks up a woman who looks nothing like Chloe. She’s all tits and ass and that fake shyness that comes with trying too hard to be pliant and agreeable. Leon lets her spend the night, to give himself the illusion of intimacy.

They have an off day the next day, so he fucks her again then takes a nap after she leaves.

He’s debating whether to be social and go out to dinner with the guys or stay in and order room service so he doesn’t have to sulk in front of anyone.

There’s a knock on the door and he’s a little grateful that the decision seems to be made for him.

What he’s not expecting is for Chloe to be on the other side, wide Cheshire grin. She’s wearing a long white winter coat and a dress that’s far too short for the weather, a pair of thigh high boots leaving a sliver of bare skin visible.

“You gonna let me in or what?”

He wants to ask how she knew his room number, but he can guess: Connor. So, he skips to the next question.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had business in town”

Leon steps aside, she breezes past, the smell of stale wine wafts past him.

“And that involves getting drunk?”

“Yeah, it’s called a business lunch,” she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world

She picks up the pair of underwear the girl apparently left behind and twirls it around her finger, “you apparently had some business too, good for you.”

He feels his ears turn red and watches her sit on the edge of the bed, he leans against the hotel dresser to keep his distance.

“Seriously, Clo, why are you here?” he points to the ground to make it clear that he means this place, right now.

“I wanted to take you to dinner.”

“I was just gonna order in…”

“C’mon let me take you to a fancy schmancy dinner, my treat.”

“I can pay for my own dinner.”

“We get it, you’re rich too, whatever. it’s been a while since we hung out, just the two of us. So please let me take you to dinner,” she sticks out her bottom lip and bats her eyelashes.

He groans in defeat, though he wishes he had more will power to make her beg a little longer.

“Great, wear this sweater I bought you,” she holds out the shopping bag she brought.

He furrows his brows and pulls out the sweater, it’s a deep teal color and maybe the softest thing he’s ever felt.

“You don’t own enough colors, and this will bring out your eyes.”

“Thanks, for the gift and the insult.”

“Shut up and get dressed,” she rolls her eyes.

When he comes back out of the bathroom, Chloe is laying back on the bed texting. Her legs dangle off the edge and her dress rising dangerously high. It takes everything in him to stop himself from pushing between her leg and taking her apart until she’s saying his name and forgetting that there’s anyone else in the world.

She notices him borderline lurking and sits up on her elbows, “looking good Draisaitl, ready to go?”

He shrugs eating in still seems like the better option.

They end up at a restaurant that is probably still too fancy for what either of them are wearing, but the hostess knows who Chloe is before she even gives a name, so he guesses it’s okay.

“Miss Cohn, we’ll bring your dad’s vintage out to you.”

“Sounds great, thank you,” she smiles and waits for the hostess to be out of ear shot, “my dad like bought up a bunch of wine he liked at a bunch of different restaurants, I don’t know what it is but they’re usually good.”

Leon shrugs, just going with flow.

“He obviously thought he would leave much longer than he did, cause they still give me bottles like 5 years after he’s died, and he drank heavily and smoked cigars so he had no business thinking he’d live into his late 90s.”

Leon loves when she talks about her dad, loves the soft face she gets when she talks about him.

He died before Leon was even in the picture, but it feels like he’s getting a peek behind the curtain when she opens up about him, their bittersweet relationship that came with the 70-year age gap, yet didn’t change the love between them.

A waiter comes by and pours them each a glass of red wine.

“I guess cheers to your dad then,” Leon smiles.

“Yeah, cheers,” they clink glasses.

“Chloe, what are the odds,” Leon stiffens at the sight of Caleb coming by with a glass of dark liquor.

“Caleb hey,” she stands up to hug him, “what are you doing here?”

“Tying up some loose business ends in Toronto, why am I surprised you got a table here on short notice,” he doesn’t even turn to acknowledge Leon, and Leon drains his glass of assumably insanely expensive wine in one gulp.

He pulls out an unoccupied chair at the table, “Yeah, um do you want to join us?”

“Sure Chloe, thanks,” he says as if he didn’t force himself onto their dinner

Finally, he turns to the other man, “nice to finally meet you Leon, she never shuts up about you.”

Leon can’t help but smirk at that and tries to give his firmest handshake in response.

Leon only hated the idea of Caleb before, but after spending five minutes with him, he just hates the guy. He went out of his way to talk about things Leon didn’t know about like childhood friends and would talk over Chloe when she tried to include him.

Thankfully the waitress came by to take their orders, because Leon is about five seconds from texting Connor to pull the emergency call card for him.

“I’ll have the gnocchi,” Chloe says closing her menu

“That’s a lot of carbs,” Caleb hums, not even looking up from his menu.

Chloe twists her lips to the side, for a second Leon thinks she’s finally going to tell him off.

“Yeah, change that to the branzino.”

Leon had seen Chloe do a lot of things for a relationship, but shrinking herself was always the worst.

“I’ll have the gnocchi and the chef’s salad,” Leon hands his own menu off and winks at Chloe, “you can have some of my gnocchi.”

The rest of the dinner is equally tortuous, and as if he could read his mind Connor calls just as they’re debating another bottle of wine after dinner.

“Sorry to run out but Davo wants to talk,” Leon is out of his seat before he finishes the excuse, and is rushing out of the restaurant before Chloe can get out of her chair to hug him.

///

Chloe comes by his house a few days after the road trip ends, she’s wearing an Oilers sweatshirt he’s pretty sure is his. She looks better in it anyway.

“Have you seen Baron? Caleb doesn’t like cats so I kicked the little guy out last night and he hasn’t come home and I’m getting a little worried,” the panic rises in her voice.

Leon knows where Baron is, he’s cuddle up with Bowie on his dog bed; he let the cat in when he started crying outside his back door. But he doesn’t tell Chloe that, because Caleb hating Baron is somehow the last straw.

“The guy hates your cat, too?”

Chloe taken aback by the comment, with her ‘missing’ cat and all.

“He walks all over you, he tells you what you should eat, and he basically hates your child. Why the fuck are you doing this to yourself, he’s a shitty person.”

“We’re not really together it's–“

“Chloe it doesn’t matter if you’re not actually something, he’s a waste of your time. They’ve all been a waste of your time, you can never pick someone who actually cares about you and I’m sick of watching it!”

“Where is this coming from?”

“You stupid bitch, I love you!”

In his wildest dreams, or nightmares, Leon never thought this is how he’d confess his love: with name-calling. But the words are out there and there’s a weight lifted from his chest.

Chloe blinks too many times, like she’s trying to make a hallucination disappear. She opens her mouth and a strangled sound comes out before she closes it again.

“What?” She finally squeaks out.

“I’m sick of seeing you throw yourself at people who don’t care about treating you right and then breaking your heart because I’m in love with you and I would never do that to you.”

“Wow, and what was that first part? I’m a stupid bitch?” The ghost of a smile graces her lips.

Leon takes a step forward, still not wanting to overstep by touching her, “yeah everyone else thought I was really obvious so I had to say something to get through your thick skull.”

Then his hands are full of Chloe, her arms around his neck, her lips on his, her tongue in his mouth.

It’s everything he’s been wanting for so long he doesn’t know where to start or focus, he wants his lips everywhere, his hands everywhere. His brain malfunctions before he can even figure out where to start, so he just tries to follow Chloe’s lead.

She pulls away and Leon feels his face following, hoping to reconnect. He nearly whimpers at the loss of contact.

When he finally looks at Chloe, she looks a bit frazzled; she’s running a hand through her hair and her eyes look wild.

“I don’t– I don’t love you, because that would be insane,” she’s gesticulating wildly, “since I haven’t thought about us that way.”

Leon feels his heart sink into his stomach.

“But this is something,” she starts to kick off her shoes, “I’d very much like to explore.”

She whips her jacket in the direction of the door and grabs Leon’s face and pulls his lips to hers again. His mind is back online and he pulls her by the hips against him.

Something nags at him before he can get in too deep, “and this isn’t just sex? Cause I can’t do that Clo.”

“No, I mean not that I’ve never thought about it” she attaches her lips to his jaw, “I have eyes and a vibrator, of course I’ve thought a little about it,” she feverishly moves closer to his mouth.

She finally comes up for air and is breathing heavily, she holds Leon’s face and looks him dead in the eye, “But you want what’s best for me and that sounds really good, because I’ve never had that before. And I want what’s best for you too, and maybe I can give that to you.”

Leon feels like his heart might burst out of his chest.

“Really?”

She nods, desperation in the little movements, “And I’d love to talk more about that but that love confession really turned me on and I want to have sex, like right now.”

Leon let’s out a husky laugh, but isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He lifts her up and almost falls up the stairs in excitement. He’s waited for all of this for so long.

///

Chloe falls back onto the pillow, sweaty and flushed.

“Holy shit,” she turns to look at Leon, running her hand through his sex-rumpled hair, “all those times you said other people are good at sex, you meant yourself?”

“I mean–“ he laughs and turns on his side, wanting to memorize her blissed out face, “I don’t want to brag.”

“No, you should brag. I’ve had sex with a lot of people and that–“

Leon rolls on top of her and covers her mouth, “let’s not talk about your past lovers right now.”

She gives him a quick peck before pushing him off and heading to the bathroom, giving him a bit of a show on the way.

On her way back she hears some scratching at the door, she opens it up and Baron and Bowie come bounding in, jumping up onto the bed.

“Oh my god Baron, you were hiding out here?” she crawls under the covers and pulls the fluffy cat close to kiss.

“Christ, Chloe, we’re still naked.”

She chuckles, “I’m so sorry to scar the children, but Baron has probably seen much worse; he’s a bit of voyeuristic perv.”

“Yeah, well Bowie is innocent,” he laughs while Bowie tries to crawl up to lick his face.

“Look Baron, both our boyfriends live in the same house now, double dates all the time.”

“Boyfriend?” He feels a little woozy hearing Chloe talk like that.

“On a trial basis of course.”

“Of course,” he smirks.

“Cause I’m notoriously bad at this stuff so you might want to rescind the offer after the novelty wears off.”

Leon pulls her into another kiss, because he can and he doesn’t think that will ever get old.

#leon draisaitl #edmonton oilers #leon draisaitl fic #leon draisaitl stories #nhl fic #nhl imagines #edmonton oilers fic #nhl #hockey #hockey imagines #hockey fics #nhl stories

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beabnormal24 · 11 months

Text

Hi, hello, it’s me again here.

So, of course my competitive butt had to take my own comment about Yuki/Alex as a challenge and now I have 12k or more of a draft.

But I don’t know if I’m doing it correctly, I NEED HELP (also mental help, possibly). I was mostly inspired by AJR’s song ‘Turning out’, which I highly recommend because it’s A MASTERPIECE.

The general idea is: Yuki finds a stray puppy during a storm and he brings it to the prt clinic at the ground floor of his apartment complex where Alex has just started working.

They start to get to know each other but Yuki is still nit sure if he actually likes Alex or if he sees him as a best friend, since he’s never cared about actually getting into a relationship so he had never actually looked at the difference between love and in love.

But it’s also a big period of his life because both Charles and Pierre have moved out of the apartment that they used to all (as in Yuki, Pierre and Charles) live in during university because they have started working and have decided to move in either their respective partners.

Charles is already engaged with Carlos (of course there’s Charlos, it’s my fic) and Pierre hints at proposing to George (I don’t know where this ship came from in my mind but I wanted it, so I wrote about it), and Yuki is starting to feel lonely. [also, other side-couples are Sewis and Landoscar]

He has the company of a puppy called Kuri (because it’s Japanese for chestnut, and I imagine Yuki with a poodle with chestnut fur) and Alexander Albon, funny and tall and easygoing but he doesn’t know what it means to him.

So, lots of introspection as it’s common in my fics and fluff because Yalex has to be a comfort ship, sorry. (And I’m also planning on smut, hehe)

Anyway, here is a little snippet, let me know what you think about it (keep in mind that I am NOT British and I do NOT have a beta reader):

—

Karma may be a little fickle tonight, but it certainly pulls him to its side when the heavy rain turns into a light drizzle halfway through his way back to his apartment complex – which isn’t a long journey, per se, but Yuki surely isn’t one to look into a gifted horse’s mouth.

So, by the time he has reached the closed doors of the vet clinic, he is shivering much less than before and the biting cold in his bones has turned into an uncomfortable chill shiver running down his spine from time to time.

What is annoying is the hair plastered down to his eyes dripping wet and the fact that he can’t even try and move a few strands out because his arms are already stuffed full of the sleeping body of a tiny, harmed puppy.

Good God.

The doors stay closed when he finds a sheltered place under the brick's roof of the entrance, but Yuki knows for a fact that Sebastian is never able to leave this place until it’s ten in the evening, because there’s always some animal staying the night after an operation, and he would probably rather close the clinic for good instead of leaving them alone for more than eight hours.

Yuki had never got it, honestly, the sleep and the warm comfort of his bed seems like a much better prospect than staying around sleeping animals in pain, but now that he’s looking at the limp tiny thing in his arms, he may start to understand.

“Sebastian!” he calls out, reaching with his pinky finger to the doorbell. He cries his name a bunch of times, because the rain is starting to fall again and his voice might get covered soon enough, and there’s no way that Yuki is going to wait for him to close everything up – that might take hours, the puppy may be hurting too much by then. “Sebastian, please, it’s an emergency” he must sound like a possessed man, and the lady on the first floor will probably have something to complain about in their next condominium meeting. But she always talks too loudly on her phone on Sunday mornings when Yuki is trying to sleep away a tremendous hangover, so she can honestly go fuck herself – respectfully.

It still takes a few more minutes and a few more desperate calls for the door to open and the dim yellow light of the waiting room to seep on the steps. Yuki slips inside without even waiting for it to open completely, clutching the jacket close to his chest and exhaling deeply through his nose when the warmth of the air-conditioned room finally engulfs him. The puppy sighs against his chest, so it must appreciate the change in temperature, too.

“See, I told you buddy I would get you safe. Yuki always keeps his promises” he says softly, shuffling the bundle of leather closer to his face. The puppy smells pretty bad, a mix of blood and dumpsters rubbish from London neighborhoods, but its tiny eyes are staring back at him all lucid and wide and full of fondness, like it can actually feel love for him, and Yuki can’t even consider the possibility of getting it too far away from his nose.

Yuki may have just fallen in love, too. But it also might be the adrenaline of acting like a freaking hero in a rainstorm when he can barely reach the top cupboard of his kitchen with the help of a stepladder.

But Disney never made a movie about short heroes; he never had a figure to look up to during his childhood.

“Now Sebastian here will take really good care of you, yes? He won’t ever hurt you. Right Seb-” Yuki stops in his tracks when his gaze meets a pair of brown eyes that definitely do not belong to Sebastian, especially with the way he almost has to bend his neck in half to actually look at the face in front of him and not at the expanse of a broad chest hugged by a plain blue polo.

This is not Sebastian’s chest and not Sebastian’s hair and definitely not Sebastian’s lips and definitely definitely not Sebastian’s white coat. Oh.

“You’re not Sebastian” Yuki says dumbly.

Surely enough, there’s a tall lanky guy standing in front of the now closed door, looking only slightly stunned at Yuki’s sudden outburst, like it’s normal to have someone barging inside a vet clinic at half past nine on a Thursday night in the middle of yet another London’s rainy day.

Oh god, but what if this guy is the one who actually barged in? What if Yuki has just uncovered a burglar? But would a burglar open the door for him?

The guy stares at Yuki in silence for two long seconds before he starts patting his abdomen, pretending to check his whole appearance. “Oh, fuck I’m not Sebastian!” the guy exclaims, looking frantically at his fingers, clenching and unclenching his fists like he’s trying to make out the shape of them.

Yuki snorts, shaking his head. This guy could never be a burglar even if his life depended on it, it seems. Besides, he might be slim enough to pass through anything, but he’s still too tall to go unnoticed.

“No, I’m not Sebastian” tall guy says, chuckling to himself. “I’m Alex. You almost made me have an existential crisis right then and there.”

“Identity theft is not a joke”

Alex raises an amused eyebrow at him, like he’s trying to make out the space where Yuki fits in his vision, and he smiles, wide and bright with big teeth and all. “You’re a cultured man, Yuki.”

Yuki furrows his eyebrows in confusion, “How do you know my name?” He asks, looking at the puppy in his arms to make sure- oh, right. “Oh”

Alex laughs again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He must have a tendency for it or maybe it’s just Yuki who looks funny in general. A lot of people have told him that in the past and he still doesn’t know if it’s a good or bad thing.

“You’re funny” Alex states, like it’s some kind of irrefutable axiom. He clasps his hands, taking a few steps forward to start inspecting the bundle between Yuki’s arms. “I heard there was an emergency.”

Instinctively, Yuki clutches the jacket closer, one finger gently caressing the single dot of white in the middle of the beige fur of his head. The puppy yelps softly, snuggling its little nose towards Yuki’s chest, and his heart swells like a balloon.

“Yeah, I really need Sebastian” Yuki says, “I mean, this little thing is hurt, and it really needs a vet.”

“Well, then, it’s a good coincidence I work here, no?” Alex smiles wide, teeth showing between his lips.

Yuki blinks at him. “Uh, no you don’t?” He says but it sounds more like a question than a statement. But, to be fair, he lives above the place, and he has known everyone around here for ages, he would’ve surely remembered someone as tall as this Alex, with such bright dyed hair and this adorable smile-

“Uh, yes I do?” Alex says back, grinning. “I mean, just since this morning. But officially I work here.”

“I’ve never seen you around. And I live here” Yuki says defensively, trying his very best to show at least a smidge of self-consciousness even though he will probably give up pretty easily if Alex keeps staring at him like this – big eyes, big smile, hair that look incredibly morbid.

He hasn’t seen a new face in a while, more so belonging to a cute guy, and there’s still a beer slowly swimming in his stomach, so he should be justified.

“I moved recently” Alex explains, not giving much information away to satiate Yuki’s curiosity. He arches an eyebrow, finally touching the sides of the jacket hanging from Yuki’s arms. Yuki lets him just because he doesn’t really know what to do anymore, and if the guy is really a vet as he’s claiming to be, then he should trust him more than himself.

It definitely is not because his brain is slowly turning to mush at their proximity.

“Now, let’s see what we have here” Alex says, carefully taking the jacket from his arms.

The puppy goes willingly without even whimpering once, instead snuggling happily as it’s deposited against the chest of a new stranger. Traitor, Yuki thinks, though he would probably react the same in its place.

“Hi little baby. How cute are we? So much” Alex coos gently, caressing with his index finger the same spot Yuki had been gently scraping earlier. The puppy gives another satisfied yelp. “Oh, are we hurt? Poor little thing. But now Alex will take good care of you, alright?”

Yuki just stands there looking at the interaction with his hands to the sides, suddenly feeling too empty after so long of hanging desperately on to the tiny animal. But it’s incredibly adorable and endearing the way Alex keeps comforting it, as if it can actually understand what he’s saying, its tiny tail wiggling against the jacket when he manages to scratch a good spot behind his ears.

The puppy must sense that Alex is a good person, and Yuki may be a little dramatic most of the time, but he probably trusts the puppy more than himself. Especially if it’s about a cute guy talking with a high-pitched voice to an adorable animal in pain.

“Now Alex will take you to the other room and we’ll check everything, yeah?” He looks at Yuki then, eyeing him up and down, probably taking in his conditions.

Only then Yuki realizes what he must look like, with his hair flat over his head, raindrops still sliding down his nose, the simple white T-shirt he had been wearing under the jacket now completely soaked, tight against his chest. His shoes make a weird squelching sound when he takes a step forward, his socks clinging uncomfortably to his toes and his pants scratching against his probably already bruised knees.

Fuck, he wanted to wear them for work, there’s no way he’ll wash them in time.

“Uh, sorry?” He mumbles, painfully aware of the puddle he has formed under his feet. He grips at the hem of his T-shirt, uselessly trying to straighten it out and immediately regretting it when his palms leave sticky red handprints in their wakes. Yeah, no, there’s no way this is recoverable.

Alex doesn’t seem angry about it, and as his gaze falls to the stained fabric, he frowns, concerned.

“It’s the puppy’s” Yuki says, cringing at the feeling of blood against his skin.

Oh God, it’s the puppy’s blood. A puppy’s blood is staining his clothes and his hands and he’s going to puke, isn’t he? Or worse, what if this cute guy thinks he hurt it? What if this cute guy thinks he is an attempted murderer? A murderer of puppies?

Yuki is honestly afraid of his own shadow most of the time, and he still sleeps with his night light on when there’s too many thunders outside, but how can he convince Alex of that without embarrassing himself even further?

To his delight, Alex smiles at him, shaking his head with a twinge of fondness that makes Yuki’s cheeks feel incredibly warm for the way he’s still shivering from the cold. “Come on, then” Alex says, turning around “You can clean up and dry off in front of the radiator.”

Yuki doesn’t have to be told twice.

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fuckyeahalfredmolina · 2 years

Text

...Speaking of Instagram (Or Social Media)

*warning long post ahead*

There’s another GIF at the end of the post

There’s nothing more I hate than people gatekeeping something. Or trying to shove their ideology down other people’s throats. I’m not talking about human rights and beliefs such as feminism or being an LGBTQ+ community ally because these are the things you believe in and stand up for. I’m talking about people projecting their own insecurities on others and trying to police how they think and act.

There’s a reason the Ask button is disabled (yes I did it on purpose, it’s not a glitch) and the fact that I don’t check the notes nor follow anyone.

As someone who was in a lot of fandoms on platforms that don’t even exist anymore and witnessed the rise in popularity of multiple celebrities, there are always dumb fans who ruin the fun for the rest. Always. This fandom is no different.

But just before I start, I want to link this study because it will help in understanding what I’m trying to say:

People Who Worship Celebrities Have Lower Cognitive Abilities, Study Suggests

For probably a year now, I’ve come across so many fans who try to forcibly shift the fandom in its entirety to fit their outlook. And try to make Freddino something he is not. This could be done in a respectful manner or even a fun way but no - those type of fans are borderline unhinged to say the least.

I’ve witnessed fights ensuing over trivial matters that are completely based on pure speculations or over things that are just personal opinions.

How dumb you have to be to get upset over something someone said and it doesn’t harm anyone? How much years of brain development do you need to understand that everyone thinks differently and everyone has the right to say their piece? And most importantly: how hard is it to understand that you don’t have to chime in with your unsolicited opinion over every fucking matter?

Social media really made people think that they have to have a say in what other people share and that what they think is important. It is not. Especially when a person is in their own space/platform/domain and didn’t specifically ask for opinions. Because of that, I’m not interested in interacting with anyone in this fandom on this platform. I’m just here temporarily to have fun and talk about Freddino in a way I like. It is okay if you don’t like what I share. I’m past the age where I look for social approval especially from people I don’t know. If one thing the internet has taught me is that anonymity brings out the worst in people.

Previously, there were many message boards and platforms where we gathered as fans of Freddino, most notably IMDb message board (the website had a message board for every single person and every movie) which was one of the best places to talk about Freddino, his work, and life. Back then, it was so much fun! We could discuss anything and share everything we like. Of course there were annoying people, but not the extent that is happening currently.

I’ve seen sheer absurdity by people who obviously still don't have their shit together or their prefrontal cortex is not fully developed yet or still need years of life experiences. Or probably just dumb. I use the word dumb, not stupid because to me stupid is a term I use for endearment.

Here are a few things I’ve seen and I was taken aback by the unintelligence that the people exhibited:

-Salma Hayek and Harvey Weinstein:

There was an upsurge in this matter though it happened in 2017 but as you guessed - it’s the new fans who made a big deal out of it. Some blamed Freddino or questioned his stance on this matter or the #MeToo movement in general. Until someone dug up an old video of him talking about it and supporting Salma. Still, some people continue to make a fuss about it. Going around attacking him based on something unrelated to him that happened years ago is ludicrous.

-Why does Fred talk about p*rn a lot?

Personally I dislike p*rn for myriad of reasons unrelated to religion or stigma (you can Google how predatory the industry is or the psychological effects of p*rn if you want to read more) but if Freddino watches p*rn, what is the problem? He likes to joke around and this topic is fun to him. Also these videos are old so maybe he changed his stance. Either ways, there is no problem unless you view p*rn or s*x workers in a bad light. And frankly that is “A You Problem” you need to keep for yourself.

-“Don’t sexualize Fred! He is a human!”:

Oohhhh this one is my favorite! While I agree there’s a degree of sexualization happening in Hollywood, it is natural at the same time to find someone sexually attractive. Did we go out of our way to solely sexualize him? Did we stalk and harass him in any way? Are we focusing on his looks and ignoring his career? Do we acknowledge his acting chops or just stare at his titties?

The one person who I’ve seen cry the most about sexualizing Freddino is the same person who has written unhinged posts about meeting Freddino and how they spend their day “Reality Shifting”. Google this term. No seriously, do it and read about it from a psychological standpoint.

-Body Shaming:

This is where a lot of people are projecting their insecurities on Freddino. “Stop talking about his boobs! Fred is not fat! Don’t shame his body!” - when Freddino himself used to joke about nothing but his “moobs” in Spider-Man 2? A lot of his interviews are lost and so many information and websites are not available anymore during the era when the movie was released. He still openly talks about his figure, he’s not ashamed whatsoever. Actually, he comes off as confident. It’s you (I’m using generic you here) who actually have a problem and projecting your problem onto Freddino. Having a meltdown and fighting people because they said Freddino is fat? Guess what? He IS fat! And it’s totally okay. Because that’s how people actually look. He’s normal. He looks like a lot of people around us-- he looks like us.

Social Media really ruined people’s perspective regarding bodies and I’m glad I was born before all that craze (Google Social Media and Body Image). I’m not saying that this problem is exclusive to certain demographic groups or that old(er) people can’t have body image issues because of course they can but I believe when you’re basically born into the era of social media and perfect body depiction, it affects you deeper. This problem is so prevalent now more than ever. So people go around and demand others adhere to certain rules they have put for themselves based on their insecurities or beliefs. You see people on social media with *perfect* bodies and expect everyone who doesn’t look like that to be defenseless or a victim or need special treatment? You may be the one who needs a special treatment and likes to be addressed in a certain way but does that apply to everyone? If a certain word (if it isn’t a slur) hurts you and you don’t like it being used to describe you, does it mean it will hurt another person?

Some people like to argue semantics and say “don’t call him fat, use the term overweight”. It’s the same thing, you’re just projecting and actually defending someone over something he has no problem with.

- The Pronouns Battle:

I’ve seen horrendous fights over what pronouns Freddino uses. Pronouns are important no argue about that, but did he say what pronouns he uses? If he did, then great, if he didn’t, why are you speculating? Why lose your shit fighting people? Hell, why does it matter to you? He can use whatever he likes, why are trying to specifically determine his choice? This was such an amazingly disgusting thing to witness because it showed me how some people invest in celebrities’ lives and how much they try to forcibly connect to them.

I mean I did start a silly blog and I’m sort of investing an hour or so daily but I don’t go out of my way fighting people over something that isn’t related to me. It’s one thing to look up to someone famous but it’s a whole different thing to claim they are like you and you have similarities based on your false narratives. This leads me to my next point:

-“I know Fred! I truly do!”:

Nope, you don’t. Yes even if he “changed your life” and even if you really feeeel it in your heart that you do -you don’t. Whether you’re a new fan or an old one, you simply can’t know someone based on what they chose to show the world as an actor and entertainer. Believing you know someone because “you feel it deep down” is such an immature way of dealing with people and this will get you hurt. We all think he’s funny, sweet, gentle, sexy but we can’t claim to actually knowing him as his family and friends do. This is such a weird hill to die on and I’ve seen so many immature people chose to do so.

-Harassing other fans around because “that’s so mean” or they didn’t get the joke:

I once joked that I want to live inside Freddino and I’ll share the rent and utility bills. It’s an obvious joke, right? Right? WRONG! One fan went ballistic on me and cried over a joke they didn’t understand.

Many others try to police how people speak of Freddino and will not accept any criticism or a lighthearted joke or any comment that doesn’t adhere to their own views. God forbid someone isn’t worshiping your favorite actor and sees them as a normal human being with flaws.

And how about you allow people to say what they want, granted that they are not being awful? I’ll never use slurs or insults regarding sensitive matters but it’s totally fine to joke around. I call Freddino many things as a sign of my love and admiration because it is okay. I’m not accusing him of murder or diminishing his value as a human. If this concept is so hard to grasp and if your prefrontal cortex is not fully developed, please log off or try not to bother people. He’s a grown man and doesn’t need you “defending” him. Both of us are insignificant to him, it’s not like he’ll acknowledge your existence for defending him over something so trivial. God some of you need a lot of growing up to do. I’m pretty sure someone must have had a complete meltdown over one of my posts or will in the future.

Do you know how ya’ll sound like when you take things seriously and start defending a celeb over something everyone else understands it is a joke? How absolutely smooth-brained you appear to be for “fangirling” in an obnoxious way? Have a look and if you don’t see anything wrong with what those fans said then yup - you’re one of them:

Tom Holland's Rude Fans Insult Sebastian Stan & Anthony Mackie Shuts Them Down

There’s a reason a lot of Discord servers and many places actually have kicked out a lot of sudden, new fans of Marvel and/or Spider Man or superheroes in general. So much drama, fuss, hurt over basically people sharing their opinions and engaging in conversations. This is not “passion”; this is mere obtuseness.

The silliness from some of the fans is ridiculous. However, to not contradict myself, I’ll never gatekeep so you do you boo but you do that away from me though.

Please stop being dumb. Thank you.

#alfred molina #alfredmolina #alfred #molina #stan #does it really hurt when someone share something you don't agree with #it's an opinion #it's also corn!#it's corn!#gif posts #text posts #gifs

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kpopjust4u · 2 years

Text

I’ll never let go.

Post Date: 12th November 2022 Content: Fluff/Angst - Seventeen Woozi x Reader WC: 1.2K TW?: Hints towards poor mental health/ Established relationship Request?: Yes

Masterlist Prompt list

Prompts: 1 - “I need you here” 37 - “You’re mine” 39 - “I can’t live without you”

“I need you here,” you cry down the phone, having a terrible day and it didn’t help that you knew he was free, but something had annoyed him and the attitude that he was giving you, really wasn’t helping.

Woozi sighed down the phone from annoyance, “I can’t do much about it. I’ll talk to you later, bye,” was all he says to you before hanging up the one on you, leaving you sitting there, sobbing into your hands.

It usually wouldn’t bother you with how busy he can be, and if he has stressed himself, but you really needed him there, you needed just a hug, just to see him for five minutes. Only five. You were missing him like mad but it seemed like he had very little to no time for you and you understood that schedules get in the way and respect that, but you also needed some attention.

Woozi on the other end of the phone kicks himself. Staring at his phone, at your caller picture, and wanting to ring you back to apologize but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Not because he didn't want to, but because an apology over the phone wouldn't comfort him to know if you actually accept it or not.

This bothers him more, needing to see you as soon as possible, knowing the way he spoke to you was bang out of order, and wanting to apologize. He also just knows how bad you can get with things like this, not risking the chance of possibly leaving you as he runs out of the studio, leaving the others questioning him.

From outside your flat, there was silence, not even the sound of the TV which you usually would use to drown out any other sounds, but everything was silent. This makes the anxiety go through the roof as his fist taps on your door, hearing slight movement within the building. At least he knew you were home. It brought him a little comfort in knowing that.

“Who is it?” Your voice is soft from behind the door, sniffling from the remnants of your crying session, eyes puffy and red. You leaned on the door, hand on the door handle as you wait for a reply.

With a hand placed on the door frame, Woozi smiles at the sound of your voice, “It’s me, baby,” he gently responds, loud enough in hopes you’ll hear him clearly.

With the sound of the lock clicking, Woozi prepares himself to see the state you are in, but he’s glad you’re willing to open the door to him, opening it to see him standing there with a small shy smile on his face.

“What are you doing here? Thought you couldn’t do anything about coming over?” You sarcastically let the words roll off of your tongue, biting back the more nasty tone, barely even looking at him.

“Please, let me come in. We’ll talk,” he insists as you reluctantly let him in, walking past you to wait for you as you waited patiently, arms crossed in front of your chest and trying to hide the fact you’ve been crying but he knew.

For a moment, you both stand there in silence, awkwardly looking at the floor until a small sniffle is audibly from you, making up look up instantly, rushing over to check if you��re okay but you avoid him.

Woozi sighs, the way you dodge his attempt at reassurence hitting him where it hurts, knowing that he’s started something he’s got to make up for. Big time. He looks at you as you stand with your back to him, clearly wiping away the silent tears that drop.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers with a meaningful tone in his voice, walking towards you as you let him put his hands on your shoulder in a moment of weakness, before shrugging them off too.

“I knew what I was getting myself into when I got with you, with you being busy with schedules and all. I get it, but I just needed you earlier. I knew you weren’t busy doing anything today and thought we could’ve done something,” your voice breaks when trying to explain, shaking your head as he attempts to caress your shoulders again.

“We still can do something, I’m here now,” he tries to cheer you up but you whip around on your heels, tears staining your eyes as his heart jumps into his throat at the sight, breaking more with every tear that drops.

“I bet you’re only here now because you feel guilty? It’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’ll get used to this,” you reply, shrugging and trying to put on a strong forefront, but that wasn’t going to pass with him in the slightest.

Woozi shakes his head at your assumption. Well, you weren’t wrong, he does feel guilty, but that’s because you deserve better than to be spoken to the way he did earlier. Reaching out to pull you close to him and the energy you had is now gone, unable to fight against his persistence.

“But maybe...” you start to whisper into his chest, feeling numb to the feeling of the warmth that radiates off his body, “Maybe we aren’t just going to work. I’m too needy for someone like you with a busy schedule”.

Woozi pulls away, hands firm on your shoulders as he looks deep into your eyes, “Please don’t say that. You’re mine. I can’t live without you,” choking on his words, hating where he thinks this is going, “I need to make more time for you, I’m always in the studio or on tour and with them when I’m free. I’ll make more time, I promise”.

At this point, you’re sobbing into his chest, hating how your mind works, not realising how much he actually does love you. But you knew you couldn’t let yourself get hurt, more than you already were. Whilst you cry, he caresses your head, cooing at you that everything will be okay.

He refuses to let you out of his grasp, holding onto you tightly as he’s scared that if he lets you go, you’ll make your mind up and it wouldn’t be the decision he’d like to hear. He knew he couldn’t control how you feel or what you do, but it would completely break him if he had to let you go.

“Then pinky promise me,” you scoff through the tears, pulling away, pinky finger up as he looks at it, “Promise me we’ll make this work, I don’t want to lose you either. But I can’t keep living on the ‘what-if’s”.

With that, he links his pinky around yours, forcing a small smile before placing a soft kiss on your forehead, pinky tightening around yours, “I promise, baby. I promise to do better”.

With no more on the matter, no words being spoken about the moment you just shared, he offers to make you a cup of hot chocolate, covering you in all the blankets he could find before hiding them underneath with you, holding you tight.

A movie starts to play and everything starts to feel alright again, laid on his chest, his heatbeat lulling you as you watch the movie. Not wanting this moment to end, ever.

Tags: @scuzmunkie, @ateezreactionsandscenarios, @hipster-shiz. @trashlord-007, @fanfictrashlord-007

#kpop #kpop blog #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #Seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen imagines woozi #seventeen woozi #woozi #woozi fluff #lee jihoon

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smuttyfang · 1 year

Text

The Ghost Team Bunny

Chapter 2: Just a Kiss

You “take on” two of Simon’s men. What do you ask for in return for doing this? Just a kiss.

Words: 6,088

Your eyes blurred as you opened them, adjusting to the brightness of the bedroom. It was almost sickeningly bright, making your head hurt for a bit. As you sat up and rubbed your eyes, you realized that Simon was no longer in bed with you. You were alone and naked. As you rubbed your eyes a bit more, you heard some footsteps. Simon was now standing in the doorway, watching you. He was already fully decked out in his normal military attire, now wearing that skull mask again.

“Mm.. morning..” You say, still groggy.

“I must have tuckered you out.” Simon says. He seems proud of himself as he says this. “You slept late.”

“I’m alright, I assure you.” You roll your eyes. “Yesterday was a big change for me.” You remind him. You’ve given up your normal life to make these men happy, of course it was a big change. He walks over to you, gently placing his hand over your throat. He doesn’t squeeze, just holds you in place and makes you look at him.

“So, I’ll have to work harder tonight then. Won’t I?” His thumb lightly rubs the side of your neck. You lean into his touch, almost seeming to surprise him. His eyes get a little wider as you do this.

“You can try..” You tease him. “I’m not easy to wear out, Simon.” He pulls his hand away, still looking down at you with that same icy glare.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He walks back to the doorway. “I had one of my men bring back your clothes before anything else. They’re all out here in the living room. Pick something to wear. You’re walking with me today.” You nod your head.

“What should I wear?” You ask him, genuinely asking.

“Don’t reveal too much. Not yet.” He says, still giving that same glare. It was hard to tell whether or not he was smirking at his own comment. You walk into the living room, finding bags of your clothing. They had clearly been tossed in a little carelessly. They were a mess. You sigh.

“Simon.. you’re going to have to give me a minute to find anything in this mess.” You start digging through the bags, looking for a simple pair of jeans and a tank top.

“Sorry. They’re men, they don’t really care about clothing.” He shrugs his shoulders as he watches you dig and search. “They’ll be more careful with your bed and your couch. Probably.” You shake your head.

“Yeah. Sure.” You say, clearly annoyed. He doesn’t speak up any more after that. You continue searching until you find your dark jeans, your black tank top, and a simple pair of black boots. You slide on some underwear and a bra, then get yourself dressed. “I need to put the rest of these away.” You tell him.

“Don’t worry about it right now. We have to go.” You nod your head before walking to the door.

“Yeah.” Is all you could say. You stand there waiting for him. He puts his head into his hand for a minute, rubbing his head through his mask. He walks up to you in front of the door.

“You can say whatever you want to me when we are in here. I want to know how you feel and how you’re adjusting. But when we are out there..” He points his finger to the door. “In front of my men. Don’t smart off to me. Do you understand?”

“They won’t respect you if they see a woman smarting off to you. I get it.” His eyes seemed to soften just a bit, hearing those words come from you. “I’m used to that. Just part of being a woman.” You shrug your shoulders. That had always been your reality as a woman, it wasn't anything new. Plus, in the military.. sexism often ran rampant. You’d seen that too, in your time doing OnlyFans. “I won’t disrespect you, Simon.” You tell him.

“I..” He sighs. “If you have a problem, tell me when we get back here. I’ll take care of it later. Alright?” You nod your head. You had yet to see him look at you yet with the little amount of emotion he had at this moment.

“Yeah. I get it.” You tell him. He sighs again, shaking his head.

“Any questions?” He asks.

“How many men do you have here? That I will be tending to?” You ask.

“I have a pretty big company of men here. They’re called the Ghost team.” He starts. “I have quite a few men. And you’ll be seeing some of my company in passing. Some that I consider friends and good allies will come by on occasion.” You nod your head as you listen. “For now though, you’ll get to know the ones who stay here.”

“So.. I’m meeting two of them today?” You ask.

“Yes. Two of my best men. Recently pulled off something pretty big for me. And they deserve it. Deserve to spend time with you.” He says, almost softly. As softly as he could manage, anyways. “You’re going to talk to them over breakfast. We will see his fast things go. Sound good?” You nod your head.

“Yeah. I understand.” He gently takes your face into his hand and makes you look him in the eyes, closely.

“Remember.. you belong to me, before anyone else.” You feel transfixed on his gaze. Your mouth hangs agape as you listen to his words.

“Yeah.. I belong to you.” You repeat the words.

“Good girl.” He says as he pats your cheek softly. You bite the inside of your lip, still unable to control yourself when you heard those words fall from his lips. His eyes return back to that cold and cruel looking gaze. Maybe even more than before. He opens the front door.

“Follow.” He says as he steps out. He waits for you, closing the door behind you and locking it. He begins walking. Before you both get very far, you instinctively catch up to him, grabbing his arm. He stops as you take hold of him. You’re clinging onto him now, like you two were on a date. He tilts his head at you. “What are you doing?” He asks.

“I belong to you.. no? I’m showing everyone that.” You smile at him sweetly, clinging onto his arm. “Lead the way, sir..” You say. His eyes move from your eyes to your hand wrapped around his arm. He looks back up into your eyes again, like he can’t believe someone would want to cling onto him like this. He slightly nods, beginning to walk again. He leads you down the stairs to some large double doors. You hear a lot of chatter and talking inside. Simon pushes the large doors open, and the room falls completely silent. Everyone. Every man in the room. They stop and stare. Were they staring at you? Simon? Both? You weren’t sure.

“At ease.” Simon tells his men, casually. They begin talking again, but it’s definitely not as loud as it was before. A lot of them begin to whisper, their gaze falling on you and then looking away awkwardly when you notice. Some of them stare at you hard, having no shame about it. Simon leads you to the front of the room, letting you grab yourself a plate of food. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but it was quite healthy for breakfast. Some eggs, bacon and toast, along with some fruit. You take some water too, following Simon back toward the tables. He leads you to a table close to the corner, which you were glad for. Two men sit at the table, watching you and Simon closely. Simon sits down in front of them, and you take a seat right beside him. “Morning, gentleman.” He says. The two men nod.

“Morning, sir.” One of them says. This man looks pretty normal. He has brown hair and brown eyes. Quite tall and average in his build. He’s wearing that signature all black that everyone on Ghost’s team seems to wear. He has a very kind looking smile. He looks directly at you, nodding his head in your direction. “Morning to you too, miss.” You nod at him and smile.

“Good morning.” The man nods at you again.

“I’ve heard a lot about you..” He gives you a knowing wink. “My name is Brandon. Nice to meet you.” You chuckle a little bit.

“Nice to meet you too, Brandon.” You begin eating your food as Simon does. You aren’t sure why you feel so nervous, but you were beginning to feel knots in your stomach with all of these eyes on you. The other man still hasn’t spoken to you. Brandon nudges the man and looks at you. You hear him whispering.

“Talk to her, man.” He says. His friend stops eating and looks at you for a while. He was more muscular than his friend, but looked shorter in height. A tattoo covered his neck that you could see. He had tan skin. Also had brown hair and eyes like Brandon. “He’s a bit nervous around beautiful women.” Brandon says as his friend shoves him by the arm.

“Shut up, dude.” He says. Brandon chuckles as his friend shoves him. The man sighs. “I’m Rodrigo.” You could hear the slight Spanish accent dripping from his words. You smile at him sweetly.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Rodrigo.” You tell him. He doesn’t respond, just nods and looks back at his food. You can’t help but giggle, finding it really cute. Brandon smiles as he sees you giggle. He then looks at Simon.

“So, what’s the occasion for bringing such a beautiful lady to breakfast, sir?” He asks. Simon looks at them both seriously.

“You both did well on your last mission. You did everything as I specified. Job well done.” Both men nod at Simon. “So, you get to relax for a few hours. Here is your reward.” Simon nods his head toward you as he continues eating his food, lifting his mask a bit to take each bite. He says it so casually that it shocks the men. Brandon and Rodrigo look at each other for a minute.

“What.. What does that mean, sir?” Brandon asks. You look at Rodrigo, who’s now looking completely away from you. He’s blushing profusely. It makes you excited. Having a man like him so nervous made you feel pretty confident.

“You can do whatever you like with her.” Simon says as he quickly finishes his food. “Only condition is, you do it in front of me. You can talk to her, take a nap with her, fuck her, your preference.” Simon says it so casually, like it’s nothing. Both men look at him in complete shock. “Whatever you want to do with her. Just don’t hurt her. Unless she likes it.” He chuckles at his own words before looking at you. You give him a nod and a smile on confirmation.

“That’s right.” You tell the two men in front of you. They look at each other. Brandon is clearly excited, but Rodrigo.. he was hard to read. He looked excited, but still looked incredibly nervous.

“Alright.” Simon stands up from the table. “All three of you. Follow.” He says coldly as he begins walking away. You quickly follow right behind him. The two men take a minute to follow, but of course, they follow along right behind you. You can feel their gaze on your backside as you walk. You slightly turn around just a bit to catch them both. Brandon was grinning widely, while Rodrigo was still blushing profusely. Simon takes all three of you back to his quarters. He opens the door, allowing all of you inside. Once he locks the door, both men stand there as Simon relaxes himself on the couch. You stand there in front of the two men, unsure of what to say. You felt butterflies in your stomach. You keep trying to look at Rodrigo, but he always looks away from your gaze. Feeling a bit brave, you walk up to Rodrigo, gently placing your hand on his cheek.

“What’s wrong?” You ask sweetly, petting his face. “Do you not find me pretty?” You ask, giving him the sweetest smile possible. His friend Brandon leans against the wall as you do this. It seemed like he was enjoying watching you make him nervous.

“No, I do!” He says loudly. Brandon chuckles at him. Rodrigo glares at him, hard. “You’re.. you’re really pretty and I..” he sighs. “I haven’t.. been with anyone for a really long time.” He admits. “I..” He trails off, barely able to speak. You take the initiative, slowly pulling his head to yours for a kiss. You kiss him softly at first, letting him get used to the feeling. Slowly but surely, his nervousness began to subside. He pulls you into him by the waist, trying to get as close to you as possible. He pulls away, breathless and red faced. He looks into your eyes like he could drop to his knees for you right then and there. You hear his friend chuckling as you continue to hold his gaze.

“I’m impressed, man.” Brandon laughs. You look back at Simon on the couch. He was watching very intently, not saying a word. Brandon walks up to you, gently pulling you toward him now. “My turn..” He says as he softly pulls you into a kiss. Rodrigo lets go if you reluctantly as Brandon pulls you against his body. His hands trail down your sides, feeling all of your curves. You feel Rodrigo’s hands slide around your waist from behind. He holds you on your stomach, trying to pull you back against him. You chuckle as you feel them tugging you slightly back and forth.

“Boys.. you don’t need to fight over me.” You tell them. “You can take your turns, or..” you trail off, hinting to them that they can have you at once, if they wish. They look at each other, thinking for a minute. You notice Simon watching you even harder as you say this.

“We.. We have talked about it before. Haven’t we?” Brandon says to Rodrigo. He laughs. “Well? Shall we then?” He asks. You take both of their hands and begin leading them to Simon’s bedroom. You hear Simon stand up and follow you. He stands in the doorway as Brandon pulls you into another kiss. He slowly walks you toward the bed, stopping right at the edge of it. You kick your boots off of your feet, kicking them away. Brandon quickly pulls your shirt over your head, reaching back to skillfully unhook your bra. You can’t help but chuckle as he gazes at your breasts.

“You’ve done that many times before, haven’t you?” You ask him as he stares.

“Maybe just a few..” He grins widely. “Nice tits.” He says, admiring them.

“Thank you.” You smile at him sweetly. You undo your pants and slide them down, along with your panties. The men undress themselves quickly. Rodrigo’s neck tattoo goes down to cover his chest too, running partially down his stomach. You bite your lip at him. “I like your tattoo..” He blushes at your words and nods as a thank you. You reach over to him and take his arm. “Lie on the bed for me.”

“Yeah.. yeah.” He says. He gets up onto the bed, lying down for you. He was already as hard as a rock. He was actually so large that it fell over onto his stomach. You could have pounced on him then and there. You climb on top of him, pulling him into another passionate kiss. He pulls back a little. “What.. What about Brandon?” He asks. He was.. quite adorable. You giggle.

“I think your friend knows what to do.” You continue kissing him as you feel Brandon get on the bed behind you. He laughs as he positions himself behind you.

“I sure do, beautiful.” You reach underneath your hips, taking Rodrigo’s cock into your hand. He breaks your kiss to gasp. You can’t help but chuckle.

“Gosh, you’re cute.” You tell him. He smiles at you so adorably. You raise your hips up, pressing his cock against your hole. You feel him shiver with anticipation as he feels how soaked you already are. “Are you ready?” You ask him, making him nod his head excitedly. You giggle as you begin to sit yourself down on him. His cock is long and quite thick, making you gasp and close your eyes from the pleasure. You sit yourself down on him slowly, taking him in inch by inch. Once fully seated, you lean yourself forward for Brandon. Your face is inches from Rodrigo’s. You feel Brandon’s cock now poking and prodding you from behind.

“I ah, I don’t have any lube.” He says, chuckling. You groan in pleasure before responding.

“I don’t either. My things aren’t here yet.” You look back at him as much as you can, giving him a wink. “You can both use the same hole.” Brandon’s eyes go wide.

“Are you sure?” He asks. “I mean, we know you’re good already..” He trails off.

“It’s fine.. I promise.” You reassure him. You look back down at Rodrigo, who’s eyes look like saucers. “Are you okay with that, sweetheart?” You purr to him as you hold his face gently. You even rock your hips a little bit, making him gasp and quiver beneath you. Making him melt was SO easy, and you were beginning to adore doing it more and more. Rodrigo shakily nods his head.

“I-I, yeah.. s’okay with me..” He says. You turn back to look at Brandon, nodding your head.

“Alright, baby.. you asked for it.” He says as he shrugs his shoulders. He begins pushing himself inside of you, right alongside Rodrigo’s large cock. Both you and Rodrigo gasp and moan loudly as he shoves himself inside. Brandon half chuckles, half moans, before wrapping his hand around your throat. Not tightly, just enough to give you a little excitement. He whispers into your ear playfully, “Make room.” All three of you take a few minutes to adjust to the feeling. Rodrigo is practically a mess beneath you. You and Brandon are just reveling in the feeling of it. You were so stuffed and full and it felt so fucking good. With Brandon’s hand still around your throat, you look to your side to see Simon. He was still standing there, watching. But something had changed. His eyes. They weren’t so icy and cold now, but they were.. they looked like they were on fire. He suddenly looked so full of passion and lust that he could barely contain himself. He stayed still, but his eyes said it all. You begin to move your hips on top of Rodrigo, making him gasp and grunt loudly.

“Fuck, oh fuck. God it’s so fucking tight..” He exclaims as you begin moving. Brandon chuckles behind you, still holding your throat.

“You feel like fucking heaven, holy shit..” He tells you as he begins moving along with you. You were so soaked, that they easily slipped around inside of you. It felt like two tentacles slithering inside of you, and nothing could have felt any better in that moment. You keep your eyes completely locked with Simon’s. He goes from crossing his arms, to just standing there looking like he could pounce on you at any second. Like he wanted to shove both of those men away and take you himself. He watches your face, your body bouncing up and down, back and forth. He never takes his eyes off of you. Both men inside of you moan loudly for you. A string of curses and nicknames for you fly from their lips. It doesn’t take long at all for Rodrigo to begin cumming inside of you. Quickly after, so does Brandon. Both men seemed completely incapable of holding it back. You feel SO full with so much cum inside of you. It literally feels like absolute bliss. Both of their cocks twitch inside of you, only making you more excited. As both men catch their breath, you still keep your eyes locked on Simon. He’s looking at you still the same way - like he just wants to take you like a wild animal.

“Fuck, sorry.” Brandon says, chuckling. “That was so hot I couldn’t hold back.” He pulls out of you slowly and lets go of your throat, groaning as he does so. Rodrigo nods his head.

“Y-yeah.. sorry..” He says, almost sounding embarrassed. You can’t help but giggle at them as you catch your breath.

“You boys are too cute. It’s okay, really. It was.. super hot. I understand.” You lean down to give Rodrigo a reassuring kiss. He smiles. It’s such an adorable smile. He nods his head in understanding. Brandon begins dressing himself as you slide up and pull Rodrigo’s cock out of you. It slides out with ease, but leaves you feeling empty. Simon is still glaring at you intently.

“Alright men. That was your reward. Time to get back to it.” Simon tells the men. They both nod, continuing to get dressed. Simon never takes his eyes off of you as they do this. Once they are dressed, they both approach you. They each give you a long goodbye kiss. Rodrigo gives you a simple thanks, blushing and smiling as he walks toward the door. Brandon speaks up a little.

“I’ll see you again soon, I hope?” He says, looking down at you and holding your chin with his thumb and forefinger. You chuckle.

“You’ll have to do well for Simon for that, I suppose.” Brandon nods his head.

“I’ll do my damn hardest if I get to do that again.” He gives you one more kiss before walking toward the door. You wave at both of them as they exit Simon’s quarters. Once the door is shut, you look at Simon. Still standing. Still watching.

“Well..?” You ask. “Are you just going to stare at me all evening?” His gaze never changes or falters. It’s filled with something completely animalistic. And it makes your heart run wild. He checks the time before he speaks.

“A few of my men will be bringing your things up shortly. Get dressed.” He says as he walks away. You feel your heart hurt. You weren’t sure why you cared so much, but.. was he angry with you? Did you do something wrong? You weren’t sure. He simply.. left. Left you alone. You did get dressed again, gathering your clothing and putting them in the closet in the bedroom. Once you were finished, you heard the door open again. A few of his men came in and quickly removed Simon’s old bed. They didn’t pay you much attention, it seemed like they were in a hurry. A few of them mentioned Simon rushing them, telling them they needed to move very quickly or he would be upset with them. You feel yourself getting a little nervous. Was he seriously that angry with you? What the fuck was going on? The men then brought in your bed, quickly putting it back together and fixing it back. They left the sheets and the blanket laying on top of it. You began fixing it as they also brought in your couch and your other things. You fixed the bed up, then returned to the living room to place your other things where you wanted them to be. They even brought your TV. You set it all up yourself, placing your gaming consoles and your games to give you something to do. Sighing, you sit down on the couch and turn it on. As soon as the men were finally finished, they quickly rushed out. You watched them as you started your console up, but then the door was quickly opened once again. It was Simon. “What are you doing?” He asks.

“Playing a game..” You say. “What else would I be doing?” You ask, afraid to say much to him right now. He was just glaring at you from the door now, watching you. “Do I have someone else to tend to that I’m not aware of?”

“Me. I.. I need you to tend to me.” He says. You stopped in your tracks. Did his voice just.. waver? It’s the first time you’ve ever heard him sound like this since meeting him. You tilt your head at him.

“Are you okay, Simon?” You ask, really showing concern. “You don’t sound.. like usual.” You put your controller down, going over to him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. Nothing at all. I’ve just never been so fucking turned on in my entire life. I need you to fix this.” Your eyes went wide hearing this.

“You’re.. really turned on because of what I did earlier?” You ask.

“Yes, god yes. I need you right fucking now.” You smiled widely.

“You like watching me get fucked, Simon?” You giggle. He places his hands on either side of your hips, slowly making you walk backwards.

“Bed. Now.” He demands. His gaze is still completely animalistic and full of desire. You bite your lip looking up at him.

“Well, I certainly didn’t expect thi-“ You start, but his hand goes over your mouth.

“Quiet. Get on the fucking bed. I’m not going to say it again.” Holy fuck, you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your entire life. He was completely unhinged and desperate to just fuck you. It made you feel.. powerful. To have someone like him completely desperate for you. For your body. You comply with his wishes, staying quiet as you climb into your familiar bed. You lie on your back, but he forcefully flips you around to your stomach. He grabs one of your pillows, pushing it beneath your hips to lift them up higher. He places his hand back around your throat again, making you feel butterflies. You feel his breath on your neck as he leans over your body and speaks to you. “Be a good girl. Just lie there for me.” Before you had a chance to even so much as breathe, his cock began pushing inside of you. He groans, much more loudly than he has before. “God, fuck..” He curses. He holds your throat as he fucks you. His thrusts were completely erratic and needy. He had no rhythm. He needed you so badly he couldn’t even try to be consistent. The combination of his erratic thrusting and the pillow underneath your hips was causing him to hit exactly where it felt so fucking good inside of you. You were screaming for him.

“Simon, Simon, fuck, fuck..” Were the only words that could escape your lips. The pleasure was just too much to speak properly. His domination over you was.. pure fucking bliss. He went on like this for only a little while, before suddenly cumming inside of you without much warning. He rode out his orgasm, thrusting into you a few more times as his breathing became heavy. As he tried to catch his breath, he continued speaking right into your ear.

“Good girl, good fucking girl..” He cooed. His thumb lightly rubbed the side of your neck. How was he so hot, but able to completely melt you like this? As you caught your breath, you laughed a little.

“God, Simon.. you are.. incredible.” You tell him. You hear him huff a little before he pulls back. He pulls his cock out of you with a grunt. You lie there for a bit as you speak to him. “I.. wasn’t expecting this at all about you.” You admit.

“Neither was I.” He says. “But here we are.” He catches his breath finally, giving a big sigh. “Dinner?” He asks.

“Huh?” You say as you stand up, your legs still wobbling.

“What do you want for dinner?” He asks casually as he zips his pants back up. You shrug your shoulders.

“I thought we would eat whatever your men will be eating.” He shakes his head a bit.

“I can have something a little different made for you and I. Just don’t tell my men that.” You can’t help but giggle a little at him trying to joke. “You like grilled chicken?” You nod your head at him. “Alright. I’ll be back in a bit.” He nods his head at you as he goes to the front door and leaves. You decide to take yourself a quick bath before he returns. Once you are finished. You find yourself one of your slip on silk nightgowns and slide it on. You return back to the TV in the living room, resuming playing your game. Within 30 minutes or so, he returns. He seems to have the food wrapped up in a bag, probably so his men wouldn’t see two special plates instead of one. You smile as he gives you your plate. It’s two pieces of delicious looking grilled chicken, some green beans, some mashed potatoes and a biscuit. It looks delicious. “Here you are.”

“Thank you so much, Simon.” You smile at him sweetly as you sit your controller down and begin to eat.

“I’ll go eat in the bedroom..” He says, quietly. You’re reminded of his mask once more.

“Simon.. I don’t know why you keep that thing on all the time, but you can take it off in front of me. You shouldn’t have to live like that in your own place.” He stops for a moment, looking as if he was considering it.

“No.” He says as he takes his plate and walks to the bedroom. He closes the door and you hear it lock. Sighing, you continue eating your food. It’s absolutely delicious, better than what you had eaten this morning. Soon after you finish your food and begin playing your game again, he returns to the living room with his empty plate. He must have showered really quickly after eating, as he had changed and only had his balaclava on his head instead of the skull mask. He sits down on the couch next to you. “Like your food?” He asks.

“Yeah, it was delicious. Would have been nice to not eat it alone though.” You say as you continue playing your game. You look over at him as you say this and see him slowly look at the floor before looking back up at the TV. You could tell it was bothering him. As you continue playing in silence, you notice him watching the TV pretty intently.

“Do you like video games?” You ask him. He chuckles a bit.

“Never had any.” He says, his eyes never leaving the TV.

“Really? Would you like to try?” You ask him. “I have another controller. We can play this together.” He looks over at you. There’s a certain.. softness you see in his eyes that didn’t seem to be there before.

“No. I wouldn’t be good at it.” He says as he shrugs his shoulders.

“I don’t care about that.” You laugh. “Games are a lot of fun. The point is to have fun. And to learn. I’ll show you.” You feel a bit mischievous, leaning over and looking him right in the eyes. “Are you scared of trying a little video game, Simon?” You smile at him sweetly, giving him a quick wink. He chuckles.

“Alright, alright. I’ll give it a shot.” You excitedly get your other controller and turn it on for him. You spend the next hour or so showing him how it works, how to use the controller, and how to play the game. He gets the hang of it fairly quickly.

“See? I told you it would be fine.” You reassure him. He huffs.

“Yeah, yeah.” He says, waving his hand at you. You both continue playing the game together mostly in silence until you realize how late it is.

“I guess we should head to bed.” You say as you work on turning the console off. Simon seems surprised that time got away from him so easily.

“That late already?” He asks, standing up from the couch and stretching.

“Yeah, video games will do that to you.” You giggle as you stand up with him. You gently take his hand in yours and walk with him to the bedroom. You both get on your comfortable bed. You sigh and melt into the mattress as he lies down next to you. “Ah, I missed my bed..” You say, smiling. Simon makes himself comfortable on his back, placing an arm under his head like he did the night before.

“You were right. Quite comfy.” He admits. As he adjusts himself and lays there comfortably, you can’t help but look at him. You notice his eyelashes look a bit light. Like he could have had blonde or very light brown hair. He catches you staring. “What?” He asks.

“Oh, nothing.. I was just looking at your eyelashes.” He huffs.

“Why?”

“Seeing what color your hair might be.” You chuckle. “And I was.. thinking.” You admit.

“About?”

“How much I’d like to kiss you.” He goes silent for a minute. It was the truth. You’d slept with each other twice now, but never kissed because of his mask.

“That’s what you want? To kiss me?” He asks, almost like he can’t believe someone would want to kiss him. You nod your head, unable to control your blushing. “Of all the things you could ask for..” He chuckles a bit. “You made my men happy earlier, so. I’ll give you your kiss. On one condition.” You feel completely giddy, but do your best to remain composed.

“Close my eyes?” You ask.

“I’ll cover your eyes myself. Deal?” He asks you as he watches you.

“What, don’t trust me? You think I’ll try peeking?” You giggle.

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I do.” You sigh.

“Yeah, you’re not wrong. I would have tried.” You admit, shrugging your shoulders.

“I knew that.” He says. He moves from his position, placing his body right next to yours. He trails a hand from your stomach, up your chest, and then to your cheek. It sends butterflies all throughout your entire body, making your cheeks go red and hot. “Ready?” He asks. You find yourself unable to speak, so you nod at him. He places his hand firmly over your eyes. You hear him rustling with his balaclava. Then, within a few moments, you feel his lips near yours. He has very soft lips, and you think you can feel a divot in them. A line, like he has a scar. He fully presses his lips against yours, letting you take in the feeling. You quickly push your tongue past his lips, wanting to savor the feeling and the taste of him as much as possible. You pull away after a little while, breathless. You realized you hadn’t even been breathing properly. You hear him chuckling. “Didn’t think I would take your breath away quite so literally.” He then removes his hand from your eyes as you catch your breath. He has his balaclava back on once more. You can tell by the slight squint in his eyes, he’s definitely grinning.

“Thank you..” You tell him. “Cheeky bastard.” You say as you breathe in and out one good time. He watches you as you lie back down next to him, cuddling his arm just as you did last night. “So.. what’s the plan for tomorrow then?” You ask as you close your eyes. You can still smell his body wash on him.

“Well.. you’re not going to like it as much.” He admits. There’s a sadness in his voice that you’ve never heard before. “He.. just went through hell. He needs to take his mind off of it. Not sure if he will want to talk about it or not, but..” He trails off. It seemed to bother him quite a bit.

“Right. I understand. Give him whatever he feels like he needs.” Simon nods his head.

“Right. I don’t know what that is, but.. you can help. I’m sure of it.” He says. That softness is still evident in his voice.

“Alright.” You say as you close your eyes, still holding his arm close. “Goodnight, Simon.”

“Night, gorgeous.”

AO3

Tags: @abbiesxox

#call of duty #simon riley #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #smut #fanfic #scenario #the ghost team bunny #original character x reader #oc x reader

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aajjks · 9 months

Note

uh oh…

BC!JK

“oh my gosh! the designer?! jungkook, you never told me your mother is THE jeon jihye!” you gasp as you repeatedly bow to his famous mother to show your respect but let’s just say his mother is NOT impressed.

“and what is your name, dear?” she asks hoping it will ring a bell but when you tell her your name it rings no bells in her head and it’s not like she’s subtle about her dislike towards you.

“oh. y/n. well, it’s a name” she says before her eyes peer down to see a small cream burmese kitten in your arms. double negative, because jihye HATES cats and she doesn’t remember jungkook ever liking them either. nothing about you screams rich or luxurious you just look like some basic girl and jungkook can tell his mother isn’t fond of his taste in women. it’s why she offers bachelorettes for him and never gives him a choice because he never makes good decisions in her eyes, except for the one decision.

“uhh…well, i’ll be in my room” you tell jungkook as you walk the opposite direction of the family pair and jihye’s ears can’t help but quirk up when she hears you say ‘room.’ “oh, you’re roommates?” she asks you but her eyes are focused on jungkook.

“um, yes? until i get my apartment”

“what do you do for a living? are you a housekeeper? a sugar baby?”

“no? i’m an art teacher”

“pfft, a teacher? jeon jungkook!” jihye scolds before dragging her son away to loudly discuss her dislike towards you. with your head hung low, you walk towards your room with sage in your arms and bam tailing behind you.

“this is the girl you’re in love with? son, she’s a teacher with shit on her face. she can barely pay for the light bill in a house like this and then she’s your roommate? listen, i don’t care who you fuck around with but you’ll be caught dead before walking hand in hand with that lowlife”

and like the queen she is, she’s waiting for her son to say something disrespectful to her because jihye isn’t afraid to snatch the rug from under her son’s feet to teach him a lesson. he has ONE TIME to raise his voice or be disrespectful towards her and she’ll pull the plug on his son, no questions asked.

“i want an answer jeon jungkook. you are JEON JUNGKOOK, son of jeon jaehan and myself so why do you have THAT in your house? you need to be with someone who is equal high maintenance as you are and not some art teacher in coveralls. you know what? you’ve pissed me off and i don’t even care anymore. be at the house by 7PM sharp or you’re in big trouble and don’t you DARE bring that trash there” jihye says before shoving her son out of her way and storming out of his house but despite the harsh words jihye spat at jungkook about you, you noticed she didn’t say she loves him.

He can’t help but clench his fist, oh he’s turning red from the anger he feels right now, she just called you trash so many times infront of him and he stood there, like his lips were glued together.

But he’s too late to react because she’s already out of the house because he can’t hear the clinking of her annoying red bottom heels anymore.

Jungkook isn’t sure about whether he wants to cry or scream- he feels like shit right now. He’s biting his lip, very harshly, and he’s not sure if he feels like he can face you.

God, he’s so embarrassed.

You must be thinking “so that’s where he gets it from” aka his bullying tactics. “Y-Yn… shit… angel I’m so sorry….” He finally turns his back so he can see you. And it hurts him to know that you’re still standing in his lounge.

So you probably heard everything and it’s not like his mother is ever subtle with her insults. “F-Fuck…” he’s going to cry.

She never even once looked at him and asked him if he was doing okay? Or if he needed anything or if she missed him? “Y-Yn I’m so sorry- I don’t know what to say.”

Yeah, he’s pathetic actually, and now you’ll get to see that his parents are actually the one who have all the control and that he’s just a showpiece for them to use however they please to.

Especially his mother.

And the truth is that he’s never been in control of his own life- and he took out all of his frustrations on you.

“U-Um would you like to have breakfast? Yknow I skip it but I could make you one right now..”

And he knows that he has to attend the event tonight.

#ask: bc!jk #holy shit

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briamichellewrites · 1 year

Text

Brad and Mike; Bradley and Bria; and Rob and Phoenix were on a triple date. Bradley was having fun getting to know her friends. Mike and Phoenix teased Rob about being the only vegan among them. He shot back by calling them murderers for eating meat. They laughed. It had been a few months but Brad was back in Los Angeles. Bria was four months pregnant and was feeling a lot better since her morning sickness had subsided.

She also had more energy. They were hopefully going to find out the gender at her next appointment. Rob didn’t necessarily want kids since he liked his quiet time, but he was interested in her pregnancy. There was something so beautiful about a woman when she was pregnant. Her stomach was starting to show from behind her shirt. She bought maternity clothes to keep her comfortable.

They sat in the back of the restaurant, though they were still photographed together. It was annoying but there was nothing they could do about it. A little kid around four years old came over and asked her why her belly was so big. She told him she swallowed too many watermelon seeds. His mother looked so embarrassed and she apologized. She didn’t think it was a big deal. They left quickly with her pushing him away. They laughed because it was adorable!

Her stomach wasn’t that big but little kids had zero filters. That would be Mike and Brad’s kid in a few years. She joked that if they were anything like her, they’d be in trouble.

“You said it. Not us”, Rob said.

“Fuck you.”

“No, thank you. I’m content with the boyfriend I have.”

They laughed. After a few months of dating, he and Phoenix started calling each other their boyfriend. He made the decision not to come out as gay or bisexual because it wasn’t anyone’s business. The band respected that. Mike was bisexual while Phoenix was gay. Sexuality didn’t matter to them because they were brothers no matter what.

They weren’t planning for the future, as they were just wanting to live in the moment. Brad and Mike were planning on getting engaged in the future. Maybe in a year or two. Bria and Bradley were also talking about getting engaged in the same time frame. Were they going to have any future kids? Maybe. It had to be the right time. Mike, Phoenix, and Rob were surprised to hear she had changed her mind. She had been against having kids because of her childhood.

She didn’t want to repeat the same choice her mother did. Maybe being in a healthy relationship and being pregnant convinced her. How many kids? Just one or two. That was all they could keep up with. Bradley also wanted a couple of dogs. The only condition she had was that they had to be cat-friendly. He agreed to that. Phoenix was also thinking of getting a dog.

Either a Rottweiler or a Labradoodle. How was Misty? She was as wonderful as always. How old was she? She was two years old. Her favorite thing to do was to bring him her food bowl when she was hungry. She also loved acting like a big baby and pretending like she couldn’t climb the stairs, so he would carry her. That’s adorable! They laughed. They should have a play date sometime with the cats and Misty. How were the cats? Oh my god.

They were two teenagers. Sometimes they liked her and sometimes they didn’t notice her until they were hungry. She joked that Brad had competition for Mama’s affection.

“Who is stealing my girl”, he asked.

“Bradley.”

“She just likes me for some reason”, he said with a smile.

“I can handle you dating Bria but stealing my cat, that’s going too far!”

“We can go outside and you guys can duke it out”, Phoenix joked.

“Nah, Bria will kick my ass”, Brad said.

Yes, she would! While talking about first dates, they learned she preferred meeting at a restaurant. How come? It let her see who the person truly was. It was something she picked up while escorting. A guy would be nice to her but rude to the waitstaff, the valet or whoever he thought was beneath him. It was also in public, so she could have an escape if her date didn’t go well.

They thought about that. It made a lot of sense. She didn’t tolerate rudeness or entitlement. Could she have left if her date was inappropriate or disrespectful to her? Oh, yeah. She could report them to the website and they would investigate. Thankfully, the only bad dates she had were guys who loved talking about themselves a little too much. They wouldn’t let her talk at all, so she had to pretend to be interested in him for a few hours.

After paying their part of the bill, they got ready to face the paparazzi waiting for them outside. How did they know where they were? Someone called in a tip. Maybe someone from the restaurant or another diner. Bradley took her hand into his. The six of them went out to their cars with lights flashing from the cameras. They pretended they didn’t notice them.

Rob and Phoenix hugged her. They all said goodbye to each other before they went their separate ways. Bradley made sure the paparazzi gave her enough space because he was scared about them hurting her or the baby. Back off! They stepped back but continued taking pictures of them. Another set of paparazzi were taking pictures of Brad and Mike, as they got into Mike’s car and drove away. They finally had a picture of his secret boyfriend.

“Are you okay”, Bradley asked her.

“Yeah. Thanks for having my back.”

He took her hand and kissed it. Brad apologized to Mike. He didn’t take into account they would be there. Mike wasn’t angry or upset with him. They would have found out who he was eventually. Phoenix and Rob were able to get away without being photographed. They had sympathy for their friends having to be photographed by the paparazzi just because they were out in public. Bradley and Brad were just normal people. They weren’t celebrities to them. Not anymore.

They had the privilege of privacy. The pictures were public the next day. They showed them having an evening out as friends. When they got home, the cats were wanting attention. Meow. She sat down on the couch. Sitting on the floor was dangerous because she didn’t know if she could get back up. She couldn’t even bend over to pick them up.

Slash jumped up and went over to her. Hi, human. He rubbed his face against her belly while purring. There was a tiny human inside. He could sense it. She petted him and scratched his head. Even though she had fun, she was tired and just wanted to relax before bed. Bradley came over and sat down next to her. That gave Mama a reason to join her brother in getting attention. He laughed and petted her. Bria rested her head on his shoulder. This is what happiness felt like. He kissed her head, making her smile.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia

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yelenasdiary · 2 years

Text

Complicated

Pairing: Florence Pugh x Reader

Summary: Florence is unhappy in her current relationship, but she won’t say anything, you’ve sat back and watch from the side-lines wishing things were different.

Angst & Fluff | 1.6K | language and drinking warning

AC: I hope you enjoy this x Thank you for sending in the request!

*This is a request from my old blog*

Once a month you and your closet friends would hold a girl’s night, movie, games, wine and what not. This was a great way to stay in touch with those closest to you, with work and other commitments sometimes time can slip through the cracks, and you’d find yourselves forgetting about having a social life outside of work. This month was being held at your own house and this time Florence was bringing her girlfriend which was rare as the woman didn’t seem to like spending time getting to know Florence’s friends.

“Babe, can we go now please?” you heard the woman whisper to Florence whose laugh died off fast. “Just a moment darling” Florence smiled to her lover who you didn’t like much. Florence and her have been together for a little over a year now and at first you thought she was great, and she brought out a side of Florence you loved so deeply, despite your own feelings. But recently, over the past few months Florence seem down, blunt and the sparkle in her beautiful green eyes was fading.

You respected Florence’s private life and didn’t say anything until a few weeks ago when Florence called you in tears. They had a fight, a pretty big one at that. You told Florence how you felt about the relationship and how you saw how unhappy Flo was becoming. The blonde didn’t admit it, but she didn’t deny it either.

“Flo, I’m bored, I want to go. Please” the brunette groaned quietly to Florence. Watching the tension between the two carefully, you could see Florence didn’t want to go, she was having fun and you missed the smile that lit up the room no matter where she was. “Well, it’s been lovely girls!” Florence spoke in a fake happy tone. You eyed her girlfriend shaking your head slightly. “You don’t have to go Flo” you spoke. “Actually, we do, we have other plans” her girlfriend threw a fake smile at you. “Right” you mumbled. Florence stood from the table and thanked you for a lovely night before she left with the annoying partner.

The other girls stayed for a while longer, but your mind was stuck on Florence and how she gets treated. This wasn’t the first time you’d seen her be controlled in such a way. Florence wasn’t one to take orders from people like this, so you were confused on why she’d let this woman control her like she does.

Shortly after the rest of your friends left, you were cleaning up the mess that was left behind, wine glass in the sink, empty wine bottles on the countertop, left over snacks to be wrapped and put away before you heard a knock on your door.

“Florence, you ok?” you asked, slightly surprised to see her standing on the other side by herself.

“Yeah, all good. Molly said she left her phone behind, so I said I’d swing by and grab it” she smiled. You nodded, “of course, go for it” you opened the door wider for her.

You could tell her vibe was thrown, she was tense and didn’t seem like she wanted to leave.

“Flo, it’s right there” you said softly, pointing to the purple cased phone on the dining room table. “Oh! Right, I must be tired” she laughed, playing off she purposely skipped over it.

“Florence is everything okay?” you asked, knowing it wasn’t.

“Yeah. All good” she repeated. You cocked an eyebrow at her, “I mean it, I’m good” she said at your expression.

“Why do you let her treat you like that?” you asked, shocked at your own words that slipped out.

“Excuse me?” Florence frowned.

“Come on Flo, you’d never let anybody talk to you like she did tonight” okay, your mouth has a mind of its own tonight.

Florence sighed before slipping into the closest chair to her. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know what happened… we used to be good and happy and now she’s just stressed, I’m sure things will be fine again” she admitted, fiddling with her rings.

“Flo, if she’s stress that badly, that’s not fair on you. She shouldn’t be treating you like this. I hate it to be honest”

“Y/n…you don’t know her like I do. She’s just going through some stuff”

“She doesn’t know you” you paused before your mouth finished the rest of the sentence.

“What do you mean? Of course, she does. Look, I’m sorry if she ruined your night, I really am but I promise, I’m okay, we’re okay”

“Does she know that you like to watch animated movies when you feel sick even though you’re an adult? Or how you like your tea to have more water than milk? How the smell of vanilla drops in the bath help you relax more than lavender does? Does she know that when even though nobody is watching you still dance around the kitchen as you wait for the food to cook? Does she know the little things about you at all?” you blabbered out.

Florence looked up at you, speechless by the words you’d just said. “I… I’m so- sorry I didn’t mean to say all that” you quickly panicked, grabbing the rest of the dirty dishes to put in the dishwasher.

“Say that again” you heard Florence say softly.

“Huh? It was nothing, just forget it, I was out of line”

“Y/n”

You took a moment to yourself, shaking your head knowing now you’ve just opened the worst can of worms possible. You swore never to tell Florence how you felt about her because you valued your friendship with her more than anything and you worried than maybe your feelings would ruin that.

“Florence, I can’t sit back and watch you get hurt by her anymore. I hate it. You’re not the same Florence I once knew; I’ve grown to know this new Flo and I’m sad to say she’s not you. You used to be so happy and bright, your…your ey- eyes…they’re so beautiful and sparkle brighter than any diamond I’ve seen...You’re so beautiful and deserve the world, I’m not just saying this to make a point but…Flo, I’ve..I- I like you, I have for so damn long and seeing you like this hurts. I just” you stopped, looking down at your feet hoping she wasn’t truly listening.

“Just what?” Florence questioned as she walked towards you slowly.

“I just…I just want better things for you. You deserve so much better Florence.”

Before Florence could say another word, Molly busted through your front door. “Flo what is taking so long!?” she groaned. Florence kept her eyes on you, a few small tears running down her cheek. Molly made her way to the kitchen, “oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt?” she said sarcastically before continuing to grab her phone from the dining table. “Don’t you knock?” you mumbled.

“Sorry but it’s so fucking cold out in the car, Florence I’ve got my phone lets go” Molly crossed her arms. Florence turned on her heels and faced Molly, “When I bath, do I rather lavender or vanilla drops?” she asked suddenly. Molly frowned, “obviously lavender now can get go?”

You stood back and watched the two before you, Florence shook her head slightly, “How do I like my tea in the morning?” Florence asked another question.

“Oh my god, what is with you tonight? Uhm, PG tips? I don’t really care right now baby, I’m tired and I want to go home”

“Yorkshire Gold” the words slipped from your mouth, “and you like to let the tea brew before you add milk” you added. Molly looked at you and shrugged, “so? cool story you know how she likes to make tea?” she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t talk to her like that!” Florence snapped. “Woah, I think we should go” Molly replied. “No. I’m not going anywhere actually” Flo said sternly. Her eyes glaring at Molly with unspoken words. “Oh, come on, don’t be like this, please. Not tonight, we can talk about whatever” she paused and waved her finger up and down at the two of you, “whatever this is at home” she finished.

“I think you should just go home and pack your things” Florence replied.

“I’m just gonna be up in my room” you said quietly, slipping pass the couple. You closed the door behind you and tried to distract yourself while the two argued downstairs. You tried your best not to listen, but you always wanted to make sure things didn’t get too out of hand.

Molly raised her voice more than Florence did and the things she was saying bothered you to the core, but again, you reframed from inserting yourself. Instead, you finally put away the clean laundry away that you folded earlier today. The house went silent shortly after, then, a loud slamming of your front door shook your house. Slowly you wondered back to the kitchen to see Florence frozen with tears running down her cheek.

“Come here” you said in an almost whisper, wrapping your arms around her, pulling her close. “She doesn’t deserve you” you added, placing kissing on top of her head while she cried. “I’m so sorry about all this” she said in-between sobs. “Hey, don’t apologise. You did what you had too, she should be the one to apologise” you replied, rubbing her back softly while she soaked your shirt with her tears.

“Di…did you mean…what you said…before?” Florence asked, slowly pulling away. You looked at her, reaching up and gently wiping her tears you nodded. “Yes” you gave her a soft smile. Her eyes looked back and forth between yours, “will you wait for me? I-I need some time to – “

“always” you cut her off without a thought, “always” you repeated. She smiled softly before leaning back into your hold.

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #fanfiction

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

black magic [02]

request. arranged marriage + enemies to lovers (sukuna is a simp and lowkey a housewife) + sukuna’s first time with his wife

cw. slight angst, insecurities, lots of making out, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasm, sukuna worships reader, spitting, cum eating, teasing! sukuna, face-off kamasutra position, soft dom! sukuna, unedited fic, pwp

song inspo. leave the door open (bruno mars)

note. i want a husband sukuna

part one | part two

Sukuna gently takes your palm into his, soft and warm lips meeting your bruised knuckles that have seen years of hard work in exorcising curses like him. Uncanny that he showed so much affection to his enemy by nature, treating you with such care and tenderness that shouldn’t have been so possible for an evil creature like him. You’re supposed to love it, be grateful for it, yet his sweet gestures only irritate you, even more so when he retires to bed just like that without even so much sparing a glance your way.

You’ve been married for a year now that you’ve had enough of his confusing gestures towards you. One moment, he was showering you with love, regarding you like you were the light of his life before he’s walking away the next moment and pretending you don’t exist.

He was so infuriating. He would kiss you and hold you, but never touch you or be in the same room with you any longer than an hour. Even in bed, he’s always making sure his back is turned to you, peeling your arms off of him each time you attempt to cuddle him on times it got too cold. It hurts and dwells dangerously at the back of your mind – it would’ve been better if he got angry at you and announced he despised you, but he never did – that his hot and cold nature bothered you more than anything else.

You’ve eventually had enough that you just stopped caring. Barging in during his bath time, your nostrils flare upon seeing your husband so relaxed in the tub. Even after a year of marriage, he’s so unaffected and unaware by your need for him.

He really doesn’t care.

“Little one,” Sukuna blinks as he sits up from the tub, strong arms hanging off the edges of the bed. You admit; he really was beautiful and a desirable man that you couldn’t help it, couldn’t help but crave the one thing you knew you weren’t supposed to have. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you not want me?” you suddenly demand, tears already streaming down your face faster than you would like. Hell, you never wanted to cry in the first place. “Am I not desirable enough for you?”

Sukuna chuckles nervously.

Oh, great, now he’s nervous around you?

“What are you going on about?”

“Don’t act like I don’t know what you’re doing,” you snap, “Every time we go to bed, you always put some distance between us and keep to your side of the bed. You push me away when I try to reach for you and you never touch me or kiss me on the lips. I-I understand this marriage was against your will, but I’m still your wife and I need you, okay?” chest tightening uncomfortably, you place a hand over your poor, aching heart that is further crippled when Sukuna’s face falls. “I just feel like...you’re sickened by me, like you cannot stand to be with me in the same room as me. It makes me feel like...it would’ve been better if I wasn’t here.”

You don’t know what kind of response you’re expecting from him after your outburst, but definitely not him standing up to loom over you. You respectfully avert your eyes from the sinful image of water dripping down his defined body, but it’s too late and he’s too close already that you won’t be surprised if he can hear your heartbeat pumping frantically.

He was large and imposing, truly a terrifying sight right before you especially with his tattoos that trail and wrap all around his muscular thighs, yet you’re not nervous because he could hurt you.

Rather, you’re agitated because he’s so close, so within reach that if you step a little closer, you could easily find the warmth you’ve been dreaming of for so long.

You’re frustrated because you want him though you shouldn’t.

Just then, Sukuna caresses your cheek and pulls the both of you back in the tub with you above him, and him lazily grinning above you. You gasp, abashed, that your clothes were soaked to the brim and it stuck close to your damp skin until it took the shape of your silhouette. Sukuna, on the other hand, is completely unbothered as he eyes your pebbled nipples poking through the thin material of your nightgown and simply drags you forward on his thighs.

“S-Sukuna—”

“You really have no idea, do you?” he whispers lowly, his long claws carefully tracing down the sides of your jaw. “My innocent, little lamb...the reason I distance myself from you is because every waking day that you are right beside me, my self-restraint thins, and I’m not sure I can hold back a little longer from you taming me,” Sukuna’s dark eyes brims with something unreadable as he holds your gaze. The look he wears is beyond intense that he takes your breath away, literally, and you’re left gaping at him silently. “I push you away because I want you more than anything else, but I respect you and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You-you want me?”

“Clearly, little one, you’re inherently unaware of how captivating you are,” Sukuna says as if if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you shiver at his words – or from the cold water, you don’t really know. “Stop looking at me like you want me to kiss you. I may not stop once I get a taste of you. Like I said before – I won’t touch you unless you asked.”

You do remember him saying that from your first time together, but your head goes blank, and no words leave your lips even as you mouth nonsense.

Sukuna taps your lips. “Speak, little one. You need to use your big girl words.”

“Kiss me,” you vociferated in one breath, desperately clutching on your thighs. “Please.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to push you away as his eyes narrow into suspicion, but soon he’s tugging at your collar to bring you down for a heated kiss. Sukuna is tugging your robes down until your collarbones are exposed, his tongue and lips leaving yours to leave marks and love bites all over the patch of skin instead. You tug at his hair as you crane your neck to the side, succumbing to the undeniable pleasure his warmth and greediness consumes you with.

Grinding down on his groin, you notice he’s already hard. Hard for you, and this realization makes you kiss him back hungrily as you whimper above him.

Sukuna is feverishly sucking on your tongue and pawing at your breasts the next instant before the spell is immediately broken just as it happened. For before you could reciprocate the same amount of eagerness he kissed you with, Sukuna is already sliding you off of him until you’re on the other side of the tub, left staring at him wordlessly with his lips red and swollen.

“Not today, little one. I think that’s enough.”

You hear your heart shatter into pieces. Pride; it was about the only thing you had, but it seemed even that had been taken away from you.

“You really don’t want me.”

Your voice cracked as your eyes began to tear up.

“No, love, that’s not what I meant,” he groans into his hands, “Believe me, I’d spent enough nights sweaty and frustrated knowing I can’t ravish you and have those lush thighs around me already,” waiting for him to continue, Sukuna sighs and holds you closer, though he could only caress your knee right now that you’re wary of getting hurt again. “This is your first time, okay? I want to make it special for you – you’re not experiencing bliss with me if it happens impulsively with you barging in my bath.”

Something like hope lights up inside you.

“Y-you’ll really do that for me?”

“Tch, brat, don’t go all soft on me now. I wouldn’t suggest testing my patience even further,” he playfully flicks your forehead when you tried to kiss him again, but Sukuna is already tilting his cheek to other side before you could. You would’ve been heartbroken again that he’s refused you, but his words held more than reassurance – and so did his uncomfortably hard cock – that all previous insecurities vanished into thin air.

Sukuna grabs you by the waist to plant your feet on the ground outside the tub, carrying you as if you were nothing more than a ragdoll to him. “Now go and get changed. I’ll fuck you another time.”

“Don’t say it like that!”

“My deepest apologies, little one,” he commented sarcastically with a roll of his eyes, though his smile turned genuinely warm the last minute. “I’ll make love to you when you’re ready.”

He must’ve lied.

You’re annoyed because Sukuna is intentionally avoiding you and acting like you don’t exist. Pissed off, you go into a curse exorcising spree to get the King of Curses out of your mind, reminding yourself that he was vile like them and he didn’t deserve even a second of your time.

Although no matter how hard you tried, your mind still kept racing back to him even as you come back home, bloody and tired when you realize the temple is eerily quiet. Not a living soul could be found around, no servant fretted at your arrival and your husband most definitely did not lurk in the shadows like he usually did. The only sign the temple hadn’t been abandoned yet were the lines of candles trailing down the hall to your shared room with him, and you gasp as you see the petals decorating the bed and rose-scented candles lit everywhere.

Sukuna was nowhere to be seen.

But he was felt as he kisses your neck, his hands untying the knots of your yukata. You stiffen in reflex before relaxing as soon you recognize his scent. Behind you, Sukuna pauses, his lips still in the column of your neck.

“You’re upset.” He wasn’t asking; rather observing.

“Not anymore,” you mumble in response, although you weren’t entirely convinced even as you come closer to the bed, your husband trailing behind with his pinky looped to yours. “Did you do all this for me?”

“Yes. Do you like it?”

“I love it, thank you,” you hide your smile for him, not wanting him to see that it’s so easy to alleviate your anger to him. He has to earn your approval again, so you turn to him with a forced scowl and arms crossed against your chest. “But why were you ignoring me for days?”

You intended to look intimidating, but the King of Curses only laughed.

“You look cute when you’re mad. Plus, it made you want me more than you already do, didn’t it?” he chastised, the implications of his words making you pout in humiliation. Sukuna is quick to step closer to you, cupping your cheeks into his hand, and you hated how easily you leaned into his touch. Nevertheless, you turned away from him, using all your energy to muster your most serious ‘I’m not bothered’ face.

“Aw, don’t be shy, it’s written all over your face, little one,” he breathes on the shell of your ear, hands trailing down to lightly drape your clothes below your shoulders. Unable to hold it back, you end up shivering at his featherlike touches.

“It’s okay. I loved hearing your soft whimpers every time you touched yourself in the bath, thinking that I’m probably not around to hear, hm? You forget I sense everything,” his laugh is mocking yet laced with lust, “From the frantic singing of your heart, the way you tense up a little when I’m around, or the way those beautiful legs of yours clench together each time my robe is a little loosened,” Sukuna dips his nose right under your jaw where his tongue darts out to lick a flat stripe down your neck, and just like that, you’re breathlessly clutching on his white robes that are already unfastened. Damned tease.

“Even the smell of your arousal is enticing me to enrapture you right now, little one. I can practically hear the silent begging in that pretty little head of yours.”

You forgot how to breathe.

“B-but I’m dirty, I just finished exorcising curses.”

“Would it be comedic if I said I am aroused at the thought my wife could easily end me right here and now?” shaking your head at him, Sukuna smiles mysteriously. “But you won’t, would you? You need me too much for that,” he leans closer than he already was before, his lips just a breath away from yours. “Tell me, do you want me?”

“Yes,” you whispered breathily, “Please, Sukuna, touch me.”

“It’s my love to you.”

“Not Your Majesty?”

“Hmm, that is delightful to hear as well,” he says, “But let’s our drop our titles. For now, whatever happens between us is intimately between man and wife. Now go clean up, little one. I’ll be waiting for you once you’re ready.”

You waste no time into darting to the bath, scrubbing the blood and dirt on each nook and crevice of your body until you’re squeaky clean. You’re about to head back to bed when you quickly practice puckering your lips to make yourself look desirable, muttering hopefully flirty lines that would make your husband want you more before calling it quits from the embarrassment you caused upon yourself.

By the time you’ve completely dried and moisturized yourself to absolute perfection that you’re confident of yourself, you find Sukuna emptily staring into the ceilings. “Done already? Someone’s eager.”

You roll your eyes at him. Why did you like him again?

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“Gladly, little one,” he confides, patting his thighs to encourage you to climb onto him. Now that things were actually getting real and your endless dreams would soon become reality, your palms grow sweaty as you settle yourself onto his lap. “You tell me right away if I’m hurting you, you understand? One word and I’ll stop; though I doubt you’ll be in your right mind to want to stop once I’ve had my way with you.”

You don’t really understand much of what he’s saying anymore.

He’s kissing you so slowly, so passionately and you’re both undressing each other that nothing but desire and lust clouds your thoughts in that moment. You’re drunk on the sweet taste of him, his natural musky scent beyond intoxicating for your mortal self to handle. Too lost in the bliss of finally being intimate with him, you don’t realize Sukuna has already pushed your towel down until it pools at your waists. His sharp intake of breath is the only thing that pulls you back to reality as he greedily takes in each beautiful curve and dip of your body.

His stare is so fervid that you grow shy and cover yourself, where Sukuna quickly grips your wrist as a warning. “No. You do not hide yourself from me.”

“Then stop staring too much.”

“Is it a sin to appreciate divine beauty?” he tilts his head to the side and blinks at you innocently. “You are ethereal, my wife.”

Before you could be too flustered to respond, Sukuna fortunately saves you from the embarrassment by kissing you again, though it doesn’t last long before his mouth is trailing from your collarbone and down to your breasts. You mewl as Sukuna eagerly sucks on one breast, the other showered with attention from his rough, calloused palms. Meanwhile, you push his clothes away to expose his strong shoulders which you use as leverage because his ministrations make you feel like you’re losing control over your own body.

Rolling your hips on his erect cock, Sukuna groans through your skin, squeezing your breast hard enough that you can’t take it anymore right after he tweaks your nipple. “Love, please, I need you right now.”

“Patience, little one,” he reminds, “I need to prepare you well.”

“I’ve been waiting for months, Sukuna, I’m sure I’m more than ready.”

“Emotionally, sure, but physically?” he chuckles darkly, “Little one, do you not understand your nimble fingers cannot compare to my cock? I might hurt you if you’re not stretched out enough.”

“Then stop kissing me and start—” you’re cut off with a gasp, your nails sinking down harder into his skin the moment his fingers began to rub at your pussy. “Y-your claws—”

“I kept them for years, but I had to cut them just for you, little one. What do you have to say about that?”

“Thank you,” you offer with a breathy moan, head falling into his shoulder from the overwhelming yet welcomed intrusion. “Oh, Sukuna, it’s too good, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he bites the shell of your ear and tugs at the lobe, basically biting it between his teeth to distract you from another long and thick digit pushing past your walls. “One more?”

“O-oh!” his thumb has now joined the party by rubbing soothing circles on your clit, effortlessly pulling your lips aside with the rest of his digits to expose your sensitive bundles of nerves for him. Sukuna keeps his eyes on yours the whole time, watching and drinking in the face you make – pleasure written all over your features from the swollen lips, pupils blown wide, and desire pooling in swirls of curiosity and eagerness. It’s a face he never wants to forget; a face he wants to see more of that Sukuna eventually lays you down against the pillows, admiring how unreal you looked in that moment.

Hair splayed all over the pillow, legs spread wide open with his hands caressing your core, and a strong arm gripping his with small gasps accompanied by desperate calls for his name to do more, please you more – your words instantly translate into commands.

“You are so beautiful,” Sukuna praises rather angrily, “Never forget that. Each inch of you, fuck, you are the most dangerous mortal, you know that?”

You don’t have time to react before he’s going down on you and spreads your legs apart, keeping them pinned down to the bed. The stretch hurts but he easily soothes your pain by massaging your inner thighs, crawling down to kiss your ankles, then licking all the way up to your knee where he stops for a second, only to happily be on your sopping cunt the next moment. He’s peppering barely there kisses to your inner thighs just on your outer lips, his breath warm and teasing on your heat.

It feels like he intends to ruin you tonight.

“Sukuna, stop teasing!”

“What do you want me to do, little one?” he grins from between your legs, the vibrations of his chuckles resonating deep within your cunt that sporadically clenches right in front of his face that’s shamelessly imprinting your scent deep into his memory. “How can I make you feel good?”

“You know how!”

“You need to tell me so I know. I can’t read your mind.”

“Your mouth...”

Sukuna’s smile grows wider the longer you struggle to find your words, but exactly how in the world could you say such vulgar things out loud? He is far more patient tonight than any other day, however, that Sukuna props himself to his elbows to peer up at you innocently. “Where do you want my mouth and what should I do with it?”

Swallowing the rest of your pride, you finally utter: “T-taste me...down there.”

“Here?” he prods your clit, pulling a high-pitched gasp from you. Your husband’s smirk is nothing short of condescending just before he finally kisses your clit, sucking the bud into his mouth until you writhe before him. It takes minimal effort for someone of his strength to hold your legs in place, his grip just tight enough to be commanding. The thought of being completely in his mercy made your head spin in circles, your chest heaving up and down from the pleasure he was blessing yet torturing you with. “You’re so responsive, little one. I’m honoured I’m the one who gets to make you feel like this.”

“M-more, please, I need more.”

You expect him to tease you further, but your husband must’ve noticed that you’re too edged and decided to have pity on you. He doesn’t waste another second before he’s wrapping his lips around your pussy, treating it as if it were your own lips that always tasted like honey.

Sukuna is completely immersed in the act of pleasuring you with his tongue only, so much so that he’s silent aside from the little hums he lets out while you moan for him.

Unable to care about being too loud anymore (not that you needed to since Sukuna had made everyone go back home to give you both privacy) you find yourself throwing your head back, legs falling open wider to grant him deeper access to your most sensitive parts. Sukuna continues to massage your inner thighs and even drags the back of your knee to rest on his muscular back littered with battle scars and tattoos, the dark markings on his skin flexing with each movement. His eyes are closed and his nose is grazing against your swollen clit that had reddened already, your pussy lips opening up like a new world he had to explore, and explore he would.

Your hands find solace in his hair the shade of gentle sunsets that were often shared in lazy kisses and subtle touches, nails dragging across his scalp just enough to make your husband hiss right between your legs. Something begins to tighten in your belly as you grind your clit onto his face, too absorbed in the mind-numbing sensation of his tongue now poking against your entrance and the past barrier slowly blooming open to welcome him.

With shaking legs and a chest drenched in sweat, pebbled nipples further stimulated by the cold breeze drifting in from the windows, your eyes snap open as that rope snapped deep within your belly.

Your gaze shoots down below you to watch your husband ardently lapping your juices like a man starved. Now this wasn’t new to you – you’ve heard enough about the King of Curses and his bloodlust. Whispers of his thirst and desire to slay entire towns and even feast on mortals’ souls was enough to keep you at bay when you were still a young sorcerer, for it was already a blatant warning that Sukuna would feed on anything and anyone, that his hunger was quite something that couldn’t be satiated.

But seeing him unhinged and a slave to pleasing you has never felt more erotic that you ride out your orgasm, toes curling and legs trembling every now and then from the aftershocks of your high.

Slowly, Sukuna darts out his tongue one last time just to leave a teasing touch to your clit before he’s crawling right above you again. The ceiling is obscured by his large frame hovering over you, arms trapped between your head and his gallant member poking just between your thighs. You end up shivering under him as your husband regards you – with affection, pride, curiosity – gentle in comparison to his true nature in caressing your cheek, both of you unbothered by the slick that meets your skin.

“Are you okay?” he breathes out, watching your fucked out smile bloom into a felicitous grin.

“Perfect,” you mumble, although rather shyly. You’d seen him naked before, but never hard, and never with the intention that soon you’d truly be connected – in heart, in body, in mind, and in soul. The thought makes your heart skip a beat, your eyelids growing hooded as Sukuna absentmindedly traces patterns on the curve of your hip. “Sukuna...you’re perfect.”

Your husband laughs, the sound of his glee contagious that you’re chuckling with him as well. “Have you seen yourself, little one? I think I fall for you harder each day.”

His sudden confession brings about a silence in the room, but it wasn’t comfortable, and neither was it tense. If anything, it destroys any traces of previous hesitation and pent up anger that’s only been formed in the first place due to the fact he was Curse and you a sorcerer.

The nature of your relationship had been paradoxical to begin with, perhaps even beastly, but nothing was beastly about it now as you wrap an arm around his neck to bring him closer to you. And Sukuna was just that – the man, the Curse, the feared King whose simple mention of his name made mere mortals tremble – the same person that somehow understands your silence better than anyone. No words were needed when he could read your mind and knew his way around your heart a little too much, not once leaving his lips on yours as he sits on the edge of the bed and pulls you before him. Both of your skins are hot and flushed, yet you’re greedily touching and pulling at one another, his large palms clawing at your ass to pry your pussy lips open while you drag your nails down his chest.

He grunts into your mouth; the sound deep and masculine that it vibrates all the way down to your core. You gasp into his mouth – your breath immediately swallowed by his tongue that dances with yours – once you feel him slip inside.

The stretch is unlike anything you’ve felt before.

You’ve fought and exorcised countless of curses that pain was no stranger to you at this point, but never had you felt so...alien to a sensation both tragic and addicting. Pulling away to breathe air back into your lungs, your forehead knocks with Sukuna until your noses are brushing against the others, mouth hanging open as your walls struggle to accommodate him.

“Oh, oh god,” you mewl above him, eyes wide open as you witness each inch of his cock disappearing from the motion of you swallowing his length whole. He was big; terrifyingly so, and you shake with fear that you wouldn’t be able to take him or that he might rip you apart. “Su-Sukuna—”

“You’re fine,” he reassures by pulling your cheeks back to him, your delicate face trapped between his rough hands. Although his eyes are dark with lust, there’s a tenderness behind them that placates you. “You can tell me to stop if it hurts. Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

There’s no lie or hesitation behind your voice. Sukuna watches your face carefully to detect any sign of discomfort, but you want this, want him, and the pleasure combined with the tolerable sting only makes you desire him even more. The mere fact that there had to be pain and sacrifice, that you had to place your whole trust in him before you could truly succumb to the pleasure and love that created light and hope in this world was enough for you to want to keep going.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, and Sukuna wipes away the frown on your face with the pads of his fingers.

He allows you to go at your own pace until you’re completely seated on his cock, the heated member throbbing so hard inside you that you think he’s poking and prodding right deep into a place where you could hold him close the most.

It’s too much and too good that for once, you let your walls crash down as you bury yourself in his shoulder. Sukuna holds you closer by pulling you right into his chest, large arms wrapped around your frame while your breasts tease the rugged and taut muscles of his body. Even the slightest movement of you adjusting yourself on his lap makes his cock graze against your bumpy walls that you’re both moaning left and right. As you struggle to make sense of the sensations bursting within you, Sukuna’s self restraint hangs dangerously by a piece of thread. You can tell by how he’s cupping your ass and lifting your body up effortlessly before he slides you back down on his thick pole, that single, simple gesture repeated over and over again along with him bringing his hips back up to meet your warmth sending a scorching heat all over your body.

“Love, that’s, fuck,” you curse incoherently, and upon hearing a profanity leave your otherwise innocent lips makes something snap inside your husband.

Sukuna is gripping onto your hips for dear life as he bounces you up and down on his cock, tilting his head back just to scrutinize your connected bodies. A thick ring of white cream surrounds the base of his cock until it slides down on his veiny cock, sounds of skin slapping against skin and the loud squelching of your pussy even more beautiful than the screams mortals have moments right before their death in his hands. But Sukuna be damned – you felt too good that this might as well have been his death.

“You feel so fucking good,” he praises through gritted teeth, easily manhandling you and throwing you back on the bed where he’s on you in a second. “Look at you, little one, taking my huge cock so well. It’s like you’re made just for me – you want to be with me, don’t you? I would please you, fuck you good every day, yes, fuck!”

Sukuna ended up hitting a spot that equated to uncharted territory, causing you to tighten around him with a sharp cry. “Oh, right there, right there!” you rub your clit for further stimulation, moaning louder when he hoists both your legs on his chest.

He presses your legs and hugs his around his arms, flipping it to the side until your feet are right beside his ears. Sukuna has gone completely feral – his pace and drive animalistic, growling like a predator consuming his prey before he softens, kissing your ankles just as he grips your legs to make them squish together. The sudden lack of space makes your pussy tighter and more sensitive for him that you’re fisting the sheets right beside you, too fucked out to even form a coherent sentence. You’re babbling mindlessly on how good he’s making you feel, completely limp and motionless under him from how deep he’s hitting.

“Please, please, please—” you cry out, reaching out just seconds away from your orgasm with the need to touch him. Sukuna gives in and lets go of your legs until they fall at your side, stretching you out further from when he leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss.

He’s caressing your cheeks and swipes a thumb over your tears, quite nearly folding your half. His balls are slapping against your ass the harder he thrusts inside you, but his hips are stuttering and he’s panting right beside your ear that you can tell he’s close. It prompts you to wiggle under him to wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him closer and clutching his scalp just to have him impossibly close, because even thinking about letting him go sounds too painful, especially now that he’s claimed you as his just as you’ve marked him yours.

“I worship you,” he blurts out with a few final thrusts that has you crumbling under him in a silent scream, your focus completely on his dark, passionate eyes as you came. Sukuna then laces his fingers through yours while he pumps himself inside you, your walls milking him of everything he’s got. “You are divine, my wife, you have bewitched me for eternity.”

“Sukuna,” you call out weakly, and he’s quick to litter kisses all over your face from your whimpers. “Sukuna-I-I—”

“Shh, I know, I know,” Sukuna places a finger on your lips, letting you calm down from that earth shattering orgasm he just gave you. He pulls his spent dick out a minute later and scoops up your cum that’s spilling out from your pussy lips, his gaze never leaving yours the whole while he sucks his fingers inside his mouth. He’s so dirty and erotic that you’re clenching around nothing once more, but he shakes his head with a low chuckle as if he can sense you want more. Sukuna kisses you just to transfer the cum mixed with spit right onto your tongue, gripping your jaw when your eyes widen at him. “Swallow it, little one. That’s just a taste of what I could give to you.”

You don’t know what pulled you to actually swallow it – it tastes bitter and even a little salty, though it had a bittersweet tinge of scent to it that you don’t mind, especially not when Sukuna just stares at you like you’re most his prized possession.

Sukuna is right by your side the next moment. He’s tamed the next moment, pure comfort and bliss from the way he’s tenderly running his fingers up and down the sides of your body like he’s memorizing the feel of you around him. You both don’t say anything as you place your cheek right above his chest, arms locked on his chest in a desperate cling, but neither does he want you to let go. Sukuna threads his fingers on your hair before you feel his lips caress the crown of your head, mumbling sweet nothings right as you’re welcoming sleep.

Until he taps your breast.

“Little one?”

“Yes?”

“We never had our honeymoon, do we?” he queries, and you twist your head to face him as your brows draw together in thought.

“No, I don’t think we did. I pushed you away from me on our first night together, remember?”

Sukuna’s eyes shone with mischief. “How could I forget? You tried to kill me right after our wedding,” both of you share a laugh at the memory, though there were no more harsh feelings or contempt shared, only love, and love only. Sukuna softens under your gaze as your chuckles tinker down to a giggle, your finger teasingly drawing circles on his chest as you bite your lip. And like always, Sukuna knows you just a little too well. “I know that look. What is it that you want, little one?”

“You.”

“Me?” he repeats with a dark chuckle that sends heat right down to your womanhood. “You already have me, little one, your wish has been granted a long time ago.”

Your face burns. “I mean, I want you. Again. One more.”

“One more?”

“Or maybe a lot more,” you pipe up, but Sukuna’s smirk is growing more and more devious that your former tenacity soon dwindles down into meekness. “O-only if you want to. You must be tired.”

“Little one, I’m the King of Curses, did you really think I would be tired from fucking my sweet little wife?” At his words, Sukuna tilts your chin until you’re left with no choice but to be held captive under his lust. He leans down to teasingly bite your bottom lip, and you’re already breathing hard as you feel his hands begin to trail down to your core that’s more than eager to take him all over again. “Like I said, I worship you, and I’m nothing but a bewitched man who would gladly fuck his wife as long as she asks.”

Safe to say, you couldn’t exorcise curses for quite some time.

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