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ceesimz · 1 month

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Panna!

Not my best work, but it was fun to write nonetheless. FYI: panna means nutmeg, but it's also a playground/street football game where it is either a 1v1 or basically a huge free-for-all and you had to get as many nutmegs/pannas as possible - great memories :)

Living with Leah was a much different experience than you thought it would be.

The first time you met her she was a little shy but the more you got to know her, the more enamouring she was and before long you had completely fallen for her, as had she for you. Each date, you peeled back another layer of each other's personality and you saw a side to her that was inexplicably softer than the sometimes rather grumpy, stoic demeanor she had for her career. It was easy to like her, adore her, and eventually love her, and you made sure to offer her a safe space for her to let go in when she was away from the view of the public. She did the same for you, allowing you to switch off when you needed to in her presence. Ultimately, the relationship was so rewarding and comforting, it seemed almost too good to be true. In moments of self-doubt and insecurity, you felt like you were just waiting for the shoe to drop.

And when you moved into your new house together, that shoe did indeed drop, but in a way you didn't expect.

As time went on of you sharing the same space, an extremely irritating side of Leah came out in full force. You had seen glimpses of it so far of course, and it never failed to make you laugh, but living with her? It was next level.

Leah seemed to embody the nature of that of an annoying younger sibling or a tiresome teenager who had a maddening addiction to just being absolutely infuriating. When she was in a certain type of giddy mood, this habit seemed to reach new heights. You loved it, but sometimes it felt like you were going to explode with the aggravation you felt towards her.

You know that saying of if you don't react, they'll get bored and stop? Yeah, that didn't apply to Leah.

"Leah, I'm trying to cook dinner, put the football away please." You started out by asking her politely as you manned the pasta in the pot on the hob, your girlfriend doing kick-ups by the fridge.

"I'm alright here, babe. I won't get in your way, swear. Just wanna be with you, and I am bored." That's kind of sweet, you guess.

Deciding that the pasta can survive without constant surveillance, you step away from it to unload the dishwasher but clearly Leah doesn't agree with that.

"Nah, forget that, I'll do it later. Come here, one versus one." She grins, quickly flicking the ball between each foot.

"And why would I do that as someone who doesn't even know which foot to use?" You raise an eyebrow and stand across from her with your hands on your hips.

"Bit of fun, babe, lighten up. Let's do a game of panna." She teases, passing the ball to you. "You first."

"What is panna?" You frown, confused.

"Just try to nutmeg me." Leah rolls her eyes, though she knows your knowledge of football lacks compared to her as someone who lives and breathes the sport and has done all her life.

You squint your eyes sceptically at her, before slowly inching towards her and attempting to dribble the ball the way you've seen her do it probably a million times. However, as soon as you get close, she removes any gap between her feet and instead stands like a penguin.

"How am I supposed to nutmeg you when you stand like that?" You scoff, but she just smirks smugly at you and shrugs.

"No one likes a quitter."

"No one likes a stubborn girlfriend that forces her girlfriend to play a game that's impossible to win." You hit back, and a smile tugs at your lips as you see Leah suppress a laugh.

"Fine, let me go against you." She steals the ball from your feet in the blink of an eye, and now the cards are stacked impossibly against you.

"Right, 'cause this is totally fair."

You roll your eyes but nevertheless prepare to defend your pride against the decorated footballer that stands before you. This little stand off lasts all of two minutes as Leah performs as many standing tricks as she can - it's hard not to laugh because, despite the talent she's portraying, it just looks like the result of a button-spamming FIFA player.

Finally though, you gain the confidence to lunge at her to get the ball back, but Leah of course spots this immediately, and flip-flaps the ball straight between your legs.

"Panna! You just got your shit rocked, baby." She celebrates as if her performance wasn't as easy as stealing candy from a baby. You watch as she cheers quietly to herself under her breath and dances like a fool. If the world could see her now, you think.

Feeling slightly humbled, you go back to your place at the stove, finding comfort in your cooking skills at least.

...This oddly felt like you were playing into some kind of stereotype.

"Put the ball away now, please." You tell her once more, but as ever her ego takes no prisoners.

"Aw, is someone's ego hurt?" Leah pouts pitifully at you, her hands falling to your waist when she stands behind you. You weren't having it though, not when she had humiliated you purely for her own ego.

"No, I just have many dangerous weapons in my arsenal here and I wouldn't want the leader of England to come to any harm." You return the patronising pout on her face, swatting away her hands and wagging the pasta ladle you had just pulled from the boiling pan in her face.

"Alright, message heard." She walks away with her hands surrendered.

For the next five minutes that the spaghetti spends boiling, you both exist civilly in the same area whilst doing different things. You're preparing for dinner as Leah is of course dilly-dallying with the football again. Each punt against the ball as she does kick-ups or ridiculous little tricks slowly grinds your gears, until she eventually begins occupying floor space in the kitchen that she obviously knows you'll use.

"Move, please, I need to drain this pasta." You say initially, a bit of bite to it but not as much as you easily could reach. However, she doesn't move, and instead gets in the way even more. "I have a pot full of boiling water here, move!"

You shoved past her where she was messing around with the ball near the sink, a shit-eating grin on her face which its only purpose is to infuriate you more. She does move out the way though, lifting the ball up into her arms with the foot, but she only steps so far away.

"What are we having?" She asked in an all too innocent voice, watching as you drained the pasta - the aggression you did this simple task with probably should have been a warning sign to her. But that had never stopped her before.

"Spaghetti, what does it look like?" You shake your head at her. "And you will eat it this time."

You were yet another unfortunate victim to Leah's limited and fussy palate.

"Not my fault you used a rank sauce last time. You better have gotten a new one." She grumbled like a picky toddler, starting her kick-ups again right in front of the next cupboard you need to get into.

"Put that fucking ball away before I stab a knife into it." You snap, pushing her out of the way with one hand and getting out the aforementioned new sauce. "See? Is this better for you, princess?"

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that, sweetheart." Leah smirks, referencing the sassy tone and mocking pet name you used for her as you shoved the jar into her face to prove a point.

"I'd like to see you try." You scoff, heading back over to the stove.

She falls suspiciously silent as you put the spaghetti and sauce into the pan. You try to pay no notice, watching out of your peripheral vision as she slowly makes her way back over with her hands behind her back.

"What are y-"

You're disrupted by her kicking the ball in between your legs, it clunking scarily loud against the glass door of the oven.

"Another one! Call me Ronal-fucking-dhino!" Leah laughs giddily, scampering away like a naughty child.

You took a deep breath, composing yourself so that you didn't chase after her with one of the multiple weapons within reach around you.

However, sticking true to your threat, you grabbed a knife from the draining board beside the sink and sunk it into the ball that had been the bane of your existence for the past however long it's been in Leah's possession. It wasn't a sentimental object, you wouldn't do that to her, thankfully it was just a ball she had picked up from the supermarket one day she had been determined to tag along as you did the grocery shop. The poor thing let out its final breath as the air puffed out of it, a sign you had won the battle. With a slightly manic grin, you went on making the rest of the meal as if nothing had happened.

Luckily you were able to cook the dinner without any further childish interruptions, though you did have half a mind to pour the whole shaker of salt onto her portion. But no, you can rise above this kind of behaviour. A household prank war against this woman-child could lead to an unfortunate break-up. Though you did just get an adrenaline rush from murdering a harmless football, so maybe it was already on.

"Leah, come here and sort your cheese out." You shout into the apartment, not a clue where she had gone off too.

Although, you forgot the scene she would walk into, only realising when a sharp gasp sounds through the room.

"What... the hell did you do?" Leah whispers in a dramatically heartbroken voice, kneeling to the ground and delicately picking up the punctured ball. You turned and rolled your eyes at the sight that met you, forever astonished at the theatrics this girl pulls off.

"Better a ball than your head." You mutter under your breath. "Sort your dinner out, I'm not being blamed for ruining it this time."

You took your bowl and walked past where she was still on the ground, nudging her shoulder with your knee as you went by to push her over. Okay, maybe you did have tendencies similar to hers.

Leah joins you on the couch a few moments later, an embarrassingly scarce amount of parmesan in her bowl as she slumps down next to you with a groan.

"I'm not watching this right now, I don't want to participate in a fucking reading lesson whilst I'm eating!" Leah complains at the choice of TV show you'd picked for this evening: Narcos.

"Tough, I cooked so I choose." You shrugged and pressed play, the characters immediately talking in thick and fast Spanish that, despite the English subtitles, is too much for your poor girlfriend to deal with right now.

"That's not fair, you always cook." She grumbles, stabbing her fork aggressively into her food. You pause the show at that statement, turning to look at her with a face that conveyed pure and unfiltered rage.

"Did you seriously just complain that I always cook?" You question in a frighteningly passive tone. Leah glances at you from the corner of her eye, not daring to turn away from her bowl. "Really, Leah?

She grimaces at the use of her name when you probe her for an answer. All day, she had been toeing a fine line, pressing all the wrong buttons, and pushing her luck with you. This time though, she'd really done it.

"Watch whatever you want, I'm not eating with you." You stand up from your seat on the sofa and storm away to the bedroom, leaving a glum and regretful Leah in the lounge who does in fact change the show on TV.

Was it an overreaction? In an hour, you'll probably think so. But right now you couldn't bear to look at the woman downstairs. You both eat, sad and alone, in your separate rooms to think over your actions.

In fact, no, you didn't overreact. You were entirely in your right to get angry over a throw-away statement that Leah had made just to win one back against you. Her immature attitude and competitive nature took over and she made an unnecessary comment about an action you not only enjoyed doing anyway, but enjoyed doing for her. So, whilst Leah thought back on how she should have behaved better, verbalised herself better, you were satisfied with your actions.

When there was a quiet knock at the bedroom door twenty minutes later as you lay in bed on your phone, bowl on the floor and meal happily consumed, you gave no answer. Leah came in anyway, a sheepish and guilty look on her face.

"May I come in?" She asks shyly, only her head in view.

"As long as you promise to not be a complete arsehole to me anymore." You grumble, not looking at her.

"I promise, love. I am sorry. I have things to make up for my utterly stupid behaviour." She says, and that does pique your interest.

You grunt in affirmation, and the door opens to reveal her holding a few items: your favourite candle from the lounge, a hot chocolate, your favourite cookies, and the oil you often used to massage Leah whenever her muscles were giving her some discomfort.

"Maybe I could give you a massage, babe? I am sorry. I appreciate all you do for me, I was just being an idiot before who didn't know when to stop. I love that you cook for me, and eating dinner with you at the end of a long day is one of my favourite things, genuinely. I'm really sorry for making that stupid comment, I am." Leah tells you softly, an air of desperation to her voice. Through all the times she loves to piss you off, nothing made her feel worse than when you truly got angry at her.

"You must really be sorry if you're letting me eat in bed." You comment quietly, referring to the pack of cookies in her arms. She smiles and nods, coming over to sit on the edge of the bed beside you.

"I am sorry. Get crumbs everywhere if you want, get your revenge." She replies and a weight lifts off her chest when you giggle slightly. "I love you, truly, madly, deeply. I'm so grateful for you and everything you do."

You reluctantly smile up at her from where you lay, then roll your eyes and hold your arms out for her.

"Come here, you massive idiot." You mutter, watching amused as she rushes to put her things on the bedside table before diving on top of you. "You're a wanker, number six."

Leah laughs into the pillow at the reference, nodding her head in agreement. She turns her face into your neck and places a few light, apologetic kisses there.

"I am." She murmurs, sighing a little and causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. "I wouldn't appreciate it if you started shouting that at my football games though."

"I don't appreciate you reciting a ninety's song in your apology though. Get some original material next time." You hit back, a smug grin on your face as she laughs again.

"I'll sing it for you if you want." Leah offers, voice slightly muffled by your neck as your body shakes with laughter.

"I think that would reverse all your efforts." You say, her humming in agreement. "Now, did you say something about a massage?"

The next morning, Leah believes all is forgiven from the previous night. But just to be sure, she hops out of bed since she's the first to wake up and decides to bring you a coffee in bed before you both were due to go out for breakfast with friends. It's a delight you welcome immediately, sighing contently when the hot mug is placed into your hands as you sit up against the headboard. Leah joins you in bed again, copying your position, and wraps an arm around you as well as kissing your forehead. She mumbles a few more words of apology into your ear as you drink, ensuring that you know how grateful she is for everything you do. You also welcome that with open arms, happy to hear her feelings towards you when she's not being an irritating little pest.

She watches you the whole time you get dressed for the day, and there's a soft smile on her face as she stood in the bathroom doorway whilst you put your earrings in, the finishing touch of your outfit. You mirror the smile she wears when she steps forward and wraps her arms around your waist, murmuring endless compliments into your ear that send shivers down your spine. It's a sickeningly sweet moment, it would rot any witnesses' teeth had they been there to see it, but it's perfect and it's the couple that you recognise rather than the bickering one from the previous night.

You exit the bathroom together, your fingers intertwined as Leah leads you down the stairs. Though, just as you're about to leave, you spot a smudge mark on your cheek from your mascara in the mirror by the door, so you stop to fix it. Leah, with the patience of a toddler, somehow finds yet another ball and it's one you can't stab this time since it's a Euros 2022 ball. Even though she has just done her hair, begging you to straighten it for her, she starts doing headers. And that's where the morning takes a turn for the worst.

When you'd finished fixing your makeup, you head to the downstairs bathroom to quickly wash your hands. Then you hear a panicked shout, followed by a loud bang, and lastly the sound of glass smashing. Instinctively, you rush out the room to see if Leah's okay, thinking the worst, but it seems that the only damage she has is to her ego. And, subsequently, to her relationship.

The sight that greets you fills you with more fury than you'd ever felt in your life. Your mirror, the antique one you had been adamant at buying when decorating the house, lay broken on the ground. The frame was cracked, it was surrounded by glass, and the ball laying next to it was very clearly the offending weapon. The culprit cowered in the corner of the hallway, looking at you and waiting for a reaction.

And boy did it come.

The walls of the house shook with the scale of your voice as Leah flinched like she was physically impacted by each punch that your words delivered. Nothing offensive or harmful was said of course, but your language was certainly colourful and impactful. Each word was spat with a lethal amount of venom, and Leah wasn't sure she would ever see the light of day again; living a life banished to her house, individually glueing each piece of the mirror back together as you endlessly lecture her. Eventually though, you did have to take a breath. Leah took one at the same time, though she was a shell of herself as you glared at her.

Composing yourself, you stepped over the mess and opened the front door before turning to Leah with an unnerving smile. She smiled anxiously back at you, and it took everything in you not to laugh at the nervous, apologetic look on her face. At least she knew she had messed up.

The next time you speak, it's like nothing had happened, and that fills Leah with more fear than she'd ever felt in her life. She knows she's in for it when you get back later.

"Come on, my love, we have a breakfast date to attend."

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson one shot #woso #woso x reader

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sunkissed-zegras · 24 days

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𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | paigey being your girlfriend - a list of relationship "headcanons"

─ warnings | in a bullet-point formatting, i hope you guys like it! fluff (lmk if yall want nsfw ones bc i can provide), paige being DOWN BAD, social media tingz, maybe alluding to being outed but not really, some angst but you can skip over it, paigey being protective (duh), nothing else?

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

─ ev's notes | THIS IS SUCH LONG MESS BECAUSE I'M HAVING PAIGE BRAINROT RN, but i hope y'all enjoy nonetheless LOL being in my paige era i've read so many of these and i'm sure you guys have as well, so i'm making this as unique (or descriptive) as i possibly can to make it because it's more fun to read (and write cus im a sucker for details)

PRE-RELATIONSHIP STUFF

when you guys first started dating, i feel like paige would be kind of secretive about it

maybe secretive isn't the right word but very... private but not secret type of vibe (at least irl)

not because she doesn't want to show you off, because believe me, she wants to (she's a bragger what can i say)

but just because she wants to keep you all to herself for a while

she knows that as soon as people find out about it, everyone will be talking about it and making assumptions and she just wants to keep you to herself

at least for a couple months

she doesn't care about the public's opinions but she wants to make sure that y'all are LOCKED IN before she makes it public on social media

but it's clear to paige that y'all are very much locked in after the first couple weeks

she's not new to relationships and she's had her fair share but she can tell that it's different now

so the whole "not sure if i wanna hard/soft launch her cus what if we're not a long term" sentiment turns into "i wanna keep this special thing to myself ONLY for at least a couple months"

and of course the entire team knows paige is down bad for you, they've never ever seen her this WHIPPED

because paige seems like she'd be nonchalant and SHE IS... for people she doesn't give a fuck about

so when she likes someone, she LIKES someone

she is extra what can i say

they tease her about it and in any other situation, she would be annoyed but she loooooooves it because it's like "yeah i'm in the best most awesome relationship with the cutest sweetest and kindest girl in the PLANET"

you and paige would've definitely known of each other since freshman year but like... she's kinda intimidating so you sorta tried to steer clear of her

you were really close with some of the girls on the team, specifically azzi so you saw paige kind of a lot

but sophomore year, azzi kind of pushed you guys to be close and since she knows you guys so well, IT WORKED!

you guys clicked so quick and that doesn't happen a lot with paige, it takes a lot to earn her friendship

but you practically ripped down all her walls within like an hour of talking to her

definitely the first one to catch feelings

at least... to her ;)

very much friends to lovers trope with lots of sexual tension cus who doesn't love that?

i feel like after 3 months of being really close friends, you guys would spend like a shit ton of time together

you guys were ALWAYS together

she even tried to convince you to come to practice with her but you said no cus... what the heck

everyone knows... EVERYONE knows that paige likes you

and it kind of becomes like cemented (for paige at least) after she realized you were her literal COMFORT PERSON

like after every terrible, long practice or after losing games all she wants to do is be AROUND YOU so she could forget about everything

especially when she gets injured, she's such a wreck and the only person who made her feel better was you

it wasn't even what you said or what you did, it was simply just you

and after going through such a bad time with you, she realized that she liked you and she can't keep pretending

and she asked you (yaya!) and you said yes cus you liked her back (yaya!) and everything is just YAYA

so it's safe to say she knows she's found her soulmate within a month of knowing you

but she doesn't wanna seem like she's love-bombing you or whatever so she pretended to be nonchalant

which of course FAILS because she's down bad

so she tells you she loves you within like a month of dating

i KNOW it seems bad but you guys both felt it because of the whole injury and spending every moment together

when you know, you know vibes

she told you she loved you after you were there for her through some of the worst times of her life and you said it back of course and it's all cutesy

paige's love language is TOTALLY quality time and touch

even before you were dating, she just liked having her hands on you whether it was like holding your hand while walking through a crowd, or braiding your hair, or putting her head on top of yours or something as simple as just HUGGING you

but she kept it cordial of course cus y'all weren't dating

yeah that was all thrown out the window as soon you became her girlfriend

hands on you at ALL times, it becomes so subconscious neither of you even know you're doing it anymore

so remember that whole secret relationship thing?

well... everyone kind of figures it out online after like 3 months of dating

it was because of paige, poor girl couldn't keep her hands and lips off of you after a particularly hard game and somehow 🤨🤨someone gets a picture and it was all over twitter and tiktok the next day

literally "paige bueckers girlfriend" trending after an hour of getting posted

but neither of you cared too much about it because A. it was totally worth it cus the kiss was 😫😫😫 and B. she finally doesn't have to turn off her girlfriend mode when she's with you at games

cus she has the prettiest and best gf in the world and she wants everyone to know that

the only reason she was slightly annoyed was because she couldn't hard launch you on instagram :( poor girl had potential captions in her notes :( cus she's our little drama queen:(

but that doesn't stop her cus she ends up doing it! (shameless plug right there hehehe)

now that she can freely touch you and just be herself finally, she literally doesn't GAFFF

of course nothing like over the top because sure she loves PDA to a certain extent and she's an athlete so she needs to keep it civil

RELATIONSHIP STUFF

we've already covered how paige is a physical touch and quality time girly

and paige loves spending literally all her free time with you because you just recharge her

but it isn't in like an overwhelming way

paige understand that sometimes you need quiet time (or vice versa) but the thing is she doesn't even need you to talk just being around you is enough

so idk if it's necessarily QUALITY time but just being around you and spending every free second she has with you tells you that she is in love with you

paige is the most protective person IN THE WORLD, not just with you like in general

it doesn't even have to be someone she knows, if she sees someone giving someone else a hard time SHE WILL STEP IN!

and with her friends, y'all have seen her... she does not back down and will literally murder anyone who comes for the people she cares about

so if that's with people she doesn't know, and her friends, you guys can imagine how crazy she gets over you

if somebody says something even slightly consendecing or mean, slap. someone looks at you the wrong way? slap. somebody breaths wrong around you, slap.

obviously she won't lay a hand on them first but likeeee would she back down, nope

she is actually your guardian angel

like at parties, her hand is always on you and she never ever leaves your side

you need to get a drink, she's coming to

if you need to pee? she'll wait in the bathroom for you

yeah don't expect her to leave your side

because even when she IS by your side, there is always a weirdo in your guys' ear trying to get with one (or both!) of you

but yeah she's not afraid to defend you when it comes to literally anything

and this doesn't only apply to strangers, if there is someone that you know (your friend, her friend, etc) she WILL stand by you and defend you

like she doesn't shy away from confrontation, she will say something but only if you want her to

and GOD HELP THEM if you shed a single tear, cus the next morning you bet she's saying something

like i said, paige is a confrontational person and that means she's the biggest communicator

if she has a problem, she will tell you so that you guys can fix it

but sometimes she can come off a little argumentative and like she's just attacking you

she uses a lot of "you" statements so it seems like she's pushing the blame all on to you

so that can be the root of a lot of your guys' arguments when paige is only trying to solve the issues

but of course paige doesn't back down so she will be arguing with you even if she doesn't even know why, she just hates being wrong

but she doesn't let you leave or go to sleep unless the problem is fixed (or at least on the road to being fixed)

she'll give you space, she'll go another room to take a breather but she will not let you leave until it is fixed

usually after the breather you guys can come to an agreement and then paige usually hugs all the anger outta you

cus who could resist her?

if the argument lasts a couple days (it usually doesn't unless it's something serious) paige will talk it out with her mom or her friends

and you'll usually do the same

and paige will force you to sit down and talk about it until it is FIXED because she hates not being able to talk to you

and when you guys do eventually talk about it, especially if it's a serious topic, it will end with tears with both parties

but you guys always make up and everything will be better

okay okay no more angst ... for now hehehe

i feel like paige's nervous tic would be braiding the ends of her hair so i feel like that would transfer to YOU somehow

she just likes braiding your hair!!!!!! or just running her hands through your hair, it would help her relax

and if you're like me, it will help you relax as well

if you're black/have braids, she would only touch your hair if you let her!

paigey takes pictures OF EVERYTHING so obviously that includes you

her camera roll consists of ONLY you atp, like... 20% pics of literally anything else, and the rest would just be pictures of you or something to do with you

and oh my gosh don't get me started on the damn .5's of you, some of them are HORRENDOUSSSS and paige uses them as reaction pictures sometimes

and you found out from azzi that she does indeed use them in the girls groupchat

but she argues that you just look adorable which you respectfully disagree

oh and don't get me started on her tiktok drafts, she has at least 1,000 (rip her storage)

and when y'all started dating she just makes cute relationship tiktoks but she never posts them

EXPECT the "you're spinning me around, my feet are off the ground one" cus she wants to prove to the world that she has muscles

and the tiktok girlies will cry but WHO CARES!

oh and if you're on the basketball team, they will started to fan-girl over you as well

HELLA TIKTOK EDITS

and paige will favorite, repost and comment on them

like the most down-bad, insane comments you can think of

"GET THE STRAP GET THE STRAP!" is one of many ✨✨

if you aren't on the team, trust the tiktok girlies will find a way and they will make edits of you

and paige will do the same

obviously you do the same for her, your favorites are just paige edits atp (mine too)

ESPECIALLY THE GET IT SEXY ONE OMLL

and everyone will make ship edits and cutesy things like

"omg the way paige looks at her" and like a slideshow of paige being like all 😍😍😍

after paige gets more comfortable with like the media knowing about you two, she posts you every five seconds

usually like stories and stuff and especially if you’re also a basketball player, she reposts ALL your stuff

she is a proud gf !!!

she also has a highlight FOR SURE, she loves

also she def has like 10 diff wallpapers of you and her, some are really cute and some are really… 🫣

also paige strikes me as the type to like be texting you ALL DAY

and girl doesn’t care if you reply, she will send you 8 consecutive messages of different things

“omg look at the group chat 😂 *insert screeshot*” “baby they ran out of fucking caramel at dunkin, how does that happen ?” “i ended up going to a local cafe why did this shit cost me 9$” “baby you’re coming to my game on saturday right?” “HAHA look at this meme 😂” “why haven’t you responded to my tiktok’s in 2 days?”

yes she 100% uses the laughing with tears emoji argue with the WALL

or skull emoji

she also sends you 20 minute snapchat vlogs and they’re so chaotic, especially when she’s at practice or something

kk will steal her phone and say hi then you’ll hear them play fighting for like 80% of the vlog

also she does grwm’s on snapchat too when she’s at away games and her morning voice is SOOOO SEXY CUTE

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers #uconn headcannons #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #ncaa women’s basketball #women's college basketball #wcbb fic #wcbb x reader #wcbb

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kookslastbutton · 10 months

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in your arms ༓ jjk (m)

✑ Summary: You wake up next to your boyfriend for the first time since moving in with him.

Pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x girlfriend!reader

AU/Genres: pwp, smut, fluff, established relationship, one shot

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 1,680

Warnings: cussing, jk teasing oc, soft pouty jk, of is restless sleeper which makes jk lowkey sad, sexual content

sexual warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, morning s*x, kind of rough s*x, unprotected s*x (Don't be like them!) , d*try talk, m*ssionary, b*gging, b**b kink?, sl*t calling once (tame)

Now Playing: A Thousand Years

A/N: needed dometic koo after listening to piano guys play thousand years. I have not seen Twilight but I like the sound track lol. Hope you enjoy! 💞

"You snore." Is the first thing he says to you, eyeing you from the other side of the bed. He's downright adorable with half his face tucked behind the fluffy comforter.

"I do?" You roll on your side. The soft linen brushing against your skin reminds you of your bare state. Last night was the first time you spent the night at Jungook's since moving in. He was a little eager to get you in his bed to say the least.

Jungkook nods in response, eyes still barely peaking out from the covers.

"But...I don't." You smile sheepishly. Many things you're known for doing in bed but snoring was not one of them. You're sure of it. "I definitely don't," you repeat in disbelief. "You're being a little shit again aren't you?"

A grin slowly spreads on your boyfriend's face—his eyes revealing all. What a menace as always. His playful spirit makes you giggle.

"Did you sleep okay?" You yawn and rub your tired eyes.

Jungkook shimmies himself closer to you. His nose is inches away from your the nape of your neck. "No," he says. "You were so far away from me the whole night."

The comforter he was tugging on earlier is now folded under his arm. From this angle, you can trace every muscle on his inked arm, so you do, with the tips of your fingers. "I'm sorry koo, I'm such a restless sleeper. I didn't kick you did I?"

Since a child you've never been able to sleep in one position. You were always starfishing, flopping from side to side, or genuinely just in the twistiest pretzel-like positions possible. Now and then you'd punch or knee at the bed too, depending how vivid the dream you were having was. That's why for the majority of your life you've slept alone.

Jungkook on the otherhand could sleep anywhere in the same position. All he needed was a good grip on his blankets or in this case, you, and he'd fall fast alseep until the morning. But you were not an easy one to snuggle with, causing him to pout until all hours of the night.

"I'm okay, but can we try cuddling or spooning again tonight? Wanna fall asleep with the girl of my dreams in my arms." Your heart does about ten somersaults. Ever since you hit 6 months, Jungkook's been begging you to move in with him and now that you've finally agreed, he's been coordinating your new living conditions down to the last detail.

He's also stopped refering to the apartment as his—it's now our apartment, our haven, our home.

You remove your hand from his arm to fluff through his messy hair. Something about the silky texture makes you unable to stop yourself. Jungkook likes it too. "Of course we can." Your face drops a few shades. "But I'm not sure if it'll be any different from last night. I might hurt you."

In that very moment your boyfriend props himself up on an elbow and leans himself over your body just enough for you to fall on your back. "No you won't," he insists. The same inked arm curls around your waist, pushing your chests together. "I'll hold ya down this time."

Your cheeks warm up from the gesture.

"What's got you blushing doll?"

"Just that you're everything I was hoping for and more." You wrap both arms around his neck, his lips ghosting over yours. "I love you so much." It's hardly a whisper but Jungkook has no trouble hearing.

"You know I was thinking similar," he says, placing a light kiss to the side of your neck. You hum. This will likely be a regular occurrence now that it's Jungkook you'll be waking up to every morning. His affection knows no bounds.

"You're all mine," he continues, tracing circles on your waist with his thumb. Even with the blankets shielding your naked body from his, you feel every imprint of his touch. "I'm all yours, too. And even if you do end up kicking me in your sleep, I'll alway be back for more because I'm in love with you....just try not to kick my dick though, that would kinda be a bummer for both of us." He shoots a quick wink and you snort.

"Sorry," you cover part of your face. "That was so ugly of me." Jungkook's heard you snort a thousand times but you've still a little self conscious about it.

"Its cute."

"Stop, you dont have to say that."

"It's cute because I like making you laugh and seeing you happy make—"

"Makes you horny." You finish the sentence, cackling at his suddenly doe-eyed expression. "I can feel your erection on my thigh Kook."

"Oh," he looks down at himself. Did he think he was being smooth and all trying to hide it and all? You're boyfriend's cute but a good liar he is not. "Well can I stick it in or not?" He looks at you again, expectanty.

"Kook!" You just had sex last night and to be honest you're a little sore from it as well as flopping around in your sleep all night.

Jungkook however is imposible to refuse with his pouty lips and big, ferocious eyes. He simultaneously wants to cuddle you to death and fuck you silly every second of the day. You ask him which he wants to do, he will always want both....at least twice in one go.

"I'll make it quick, promise. And it'll feel good too."

Once you give the okay Jungkook climbs on top of you from under the sheets. You spread your thighs, allowing him to slip in—which he easily does given the fact that he wasn't the only one all worked up.

"Fuck," he breaths above you, hands gripping the mattress on either side of your head. "Such a perfect pussy you know that? Always so wet for me."

"Yes Kook," you let out a small whine. Jungkook's dick always makes you so full so fast. "Fuck me."

"You want it huh?" He teases even though it's him who started this. "You want my big cock to stretch your tiny pussy? Make you scream? Say you want it baby. Need to hear it from you."

You concede to your boyfriend and tell him how much you want it. "Mhm please, need your cock Kook. Want it so bad, want it to make me come, please."

"Greedy little thing aren't you," he seethes, thrusting into you at a slow pace. "Just got fucked three times last night and still want more. What does that make you hm?"

"A slut." Jungkook growls when the words leave your lips. He ends up fucking into you faster, loving the sight of your breasts bounce up and down at the quickened pace. You move to grip onto both boobs but he growls again, letting you know his obvious disapproval.

"Wrap your legs around my waist," he grunts. "And don't you dare think about covering yourself up. Wanna see every bit of you."

You do as he says and he sinks further in you, cock finding that sweet spot at the same time. "Fuckfuckfuck," he chants. "So needy aren't you? Swallowing my cock like it's nothing for your pussy. Who taught you how to take cock this well huh?"

"Jungkook!" You scream when you feel the knot get stronger in the pit of your stomach. You boyfriend smirks and starts kissing up and down your neck.

"Say it again. Who taught you to take cock this well?"

"You—you Jungkook, you did. Please, gonna come soon." You claw his muscular back, knowing your high is about to come swift and fast. You hope to god he lets you come too. Last night he made you wait and wait. You had to keep begging him until he was fully satisfied. You squirted a lot and it was hot but you can't do that again so soon.

"Come for me baby," he coos. "Show me what I taught you back when all you knew how to do was give head. Gonna soak my cock now aren't you? I'm already so wet from your slick, fuck."

"Jungkook—oh god," you moan one last time before finally releasing. Your boyfriend let's out a deep, breathy groan and continues to thrust into for the sake of his own high. "Kook, please, please tell me you're close. It's almost too much."

"Shit just hold tight for me a little longer baby, I'm so close." He fucks into a few more times then spills himself into your warm cunt. You both bask in post-orgasmic blish until your boyfriend leans his head down to capture your lips. It's a bit of a sloppy kiss but still fiery and passionate.

He slips off you after a minute or two of making out, hair sticking to his forehead. "I'm so glad you said yes to moving in."

"What? You just want me here for the sex?" You pant, playful glimmer in your eye.

Jungkook shakes his head. "Of course not." You move to rest your head on his shoulder. "The sarcasm's nice too."

You roll your eyes. You'll be doing this all over again tonight. Maybe he'll be able to keep you in his arms tonight this time—you truly hope.

A/N: thanks for reading! Lmk your thoughts 💞

Masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfics #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #fic:inyourarms #kookslastbutton

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lilacsinjuly · 11 months

Text

clingy.

gojo satoru x reader

summary:

gojo can't stand when he's away from you and you're not here to help him out.

cw: not proof read!!!, gojo is VERY clingy & slightly obsessed w reader (who wouldn't be???), nsfw, fluff if you squint, smut, use of 'baby', fem reader, dry humping, nudes, degradation & humiliation, penetration, not much prep tbh, crying, teasing, choking, dom reader/ sub gojo.

word count: 1.8k

likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

-`♡´-

Gojo can't handle being away from you. Not just because he misses your smile, your voice, making you laugh, watching movies with you or even just sitting in silence with you. Because yes, he does miss that stuff, but also because ever since being with you, no fist or toy could possibly get him off like you do.

Sure, if he tried, he definitely could get himself off. But, he refuses. Only you can make him feel good, and he is set on that fact.

The feeling of knowing that it's your hand. He's under your control. It stimulates him in a way no one else could because, simply enough, they weren't you. They didn't have your delicate hands yet harsh grip. They didn't have a voice like honey or skin like heaven.

So, when one of you are away for a mission, he’d call you every night, begging for you to help him. He's explained to you so many times how much he struggles to be away from you during times like this, yet you never quite understand him.

However, on this date specifically, you had made plans with your friends to go to a restaurant and catch up. You had only planned to stay out for a few hours and stupidly thought Gojo would be fine by himself.

1 new notification. 2 new notifications. 5 new notifications. 11 new notificati-

"Hey do you wanna get that? It seems important." one of your friends said, as you scrambled to silence your phone.

"It's fine, it's just Satoru. He's probably wondering what he's supposed to eat tonight or something. He can wait a few hours."

Attachment: 3 images.

You didn't think much of it, often he would send you photos of his face along with a message similar to "look at what you're missing babe???"

What you didn't expect, was a picture of a very prominent bulge in his sweatpants, his hand palming it. The two after that, showed his hardened cock in his hand, precum dripping down it as his thumb ran over his swollen tip.

You immediately turned your phone off and looked to the side of you to check your friend hadn't seen the image. Luckily, she was immersed in a conversation with your friends sitting opposite you.

You took a shaky deep breath, and reopened your phone to check what the other eleven messages were.

"babyyyy:(( wya?? i'm so lonely" "fuckfuckfuck just saw the vid you took of us last night baby. come home." and then several other messages along the lines of him begging you to answer him, and all the stuff he wanted to do to you. Of course, by the looks of things and how pissed you were at him spamming you messages like this, you'd be doing most of the controlling tonight.

Incoming call from Toru<3

Your friends looked at you with concern. Your shaky breaths were doing nothing to help portray a collected composure. “Sorry- I'm just gonna take this real quick." Each of them gave you an understanding look as you walked out to the back, where no one could see or hear you before you answered his call.

"Gojo, I am so unbelievably pissed off at you right now, don't even try to pretend you have no clue where I am 'cause you know damn well it's right there in the fucking calendar."

Heavy panting and strained whines was the only response you got for a solid five seconds before he replied with desperate moans and pleas.

“I can’t- I just can't on my own! It's not enough, I need you pleaseee-“

"'Toru, I'm out with my friends! I'll be home in like three hours, can't you just wait--"

"Three hours?!" he gasped dramatically. To anyone else, they would have thought he was bleeding out from his whines, cries and the way he was pleading you to leave like his life depended on it.

"Yes, Satoru, three hours." you looked around, seeing if there was anyone listening in nearby before continuing. "Satoru, you can either wait three hours like a good boy, and I'll let you come when I come home. Or, you can continue calling me whilst I'm out with my friends and I won't let you come for a week. Fuck that, i wont even fucking touch you for a week. Now, which is it, Gojo?"

With the combination of you using his last name and your terrifying threat, his eyes widened as he mumbled out a quick apology and immediately hung up. He craved you from a distance yet waited excitedly in anticipation for the night’s upcoming events.

Whilst you knew your threat was harsh, you also knew it was a completely empty one. Because, despite your annoyed tone, hearing Gojo whine on the other side of the phone had you pressing your legs together and biting your lip. Not even you could spend an entire week without touching him once.

However, it did the trick. For the entirety of the time you spend out with your friends, you didn't receive a single notification with his name on it (you just know he's saved at least twenty videos so he can show them to you whilst you're cuddling later). It was as if he's erased himself completely or destroyed his phone just to secure being able to feel you against him later.

Exactly three hours after your call, he waited patiently on the sofa, his leg bouncing up and down eagerly. He glanced at the clock maybe seven or eight times before he heard your keys in the door.

As you walked in, you barely had time to take off your coat and hang it up before Satoru's lips were on yours with a fervent intensity. His hands clung to your body desperately, attempting pathetically to get your clothes off before you pushed him onto the sofa.

"Patience, Satoru. You were being so naughty earlier." he looked up at you with wide eyes.

"But I didn't message or call you once!" he pleaded.

Gently, you cupped his face in your palm, running your thumb along his cheek. "I know, baby." you mocked.

Suddenly, Gojo grabbed you by the waist, pulling you on top of him. "You told me- hahh- I could- c-cum" he muttered, grinding his clothed dick against you helplessly. Your hand reached behind his head as you grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging hardly.

"Fuck- why would I let you cum after pulling shit like this, huh? Shit-" you moaned at the feeling of him rutting against you.

"Cause I'm, fuuckk, not letting you go-" he mumbled into your shoulder as he continued to thrust himself against you.

"Wouldn't you rather come inside me, baby? Hmm? You look fucking pathetic right now," you laughed, tauntingly. "Seriously, aren't you embarrassed, Gojo? Humping me like a fucking dog. You've got no control over this pathetic dick, do you? You're just some slut desperate for attention."

He stopped moving at your degrading words as he buried himself in your shoulder. You smiled at your victory, as you commanded him to lay back on the sofa and take his clothes off. You did the same, as you straddled his lap whilst he looked up at you in awe.

"Pleasepleaseplease- I've needed this all fucking day." he begged, tears welling up in his eyes as he bucked his hips up into your own.

You grabbed his dick carefully, stroking it slowly and rubbing the tip with your thumb. He moaned at the feeling of your hands, begging you without shame just to put it in and fuck him like he deserves.

However, your malicious teasing never relented, as you continued to give him very light touches, and very occasionally a small lick from between his legs.

He lay in front of you, heaving breathlessly as his mindless babbles grew into ridiculous moans and incoherent begs. His hair was splayed over his forehead and stuck to him because of the sweat, but never had you seen a more beautiful display as his chest rose up and down. His lips were closed in a slight pout, and his eyes were half shut from the constant edging, his arm covering them slightly.

However, his eyes immediately flew open and his hand grabbed desperately onto the sofa when you shifted your position to directly above his dick.

You sink down slowly, the pain fading loosely into pleasure over time. You moved your hips up and down slowly, as he gripped tightly onto your waist, urging you to go faster when you could.

Soon, you were bouncing on him relentlessly as his moans and whines intertwined with your own like your fingers which slid up his body to weave into his.

You leaned down, taking his lips into a passionate kiss, silencing the sounds of his thoughtless moans.

His mind was blank with pleasure, the only image was your pussy sliding up and down his dick. He untangled your hands as he ran them up your body and towards your breasts, grabbing and flicking your nipples - trying to make you feel even a fraction of the heaven he was experiencing.

One of his hands trailed down towards your pussy as he began to rub your clit. You gasped at the feeling, one of your hands flying straight to his throat as you squeezed tightly.

Before realising what you had done, you felt Satoru cum immediately inside of you, both his hands moving to grab onto your thighs as he reached his high.

As he lay beneath you, panting, you tilted your head at him curiously with a slight smirk on your lips which screamed "oh?". His face flushed with embarrassment. One, at the fact he had just came without you, and two at the fact that all it took was for you to choke him just a little bit for him to come immediately.

Before you had realised he liked your hands around his neck, you had retracted them, placing them on his chest. You grinned deviously as your hands began to slide up his body, a finger stopping to tilt his chin up so he was making direct eye contact with you, before continuing to wrap your hand around his neck. He groaned lowly at the connection, yet the sharp feeling of being overstimulated took over as you lifted your lips up before slamming them down ruthlessly.

He threw his head back and whined loudly, bucking his hips up into yours. "Cant take it anymore-- fuuuckkk!"

"Hmm? But you were the one who asked me if you could come? I'm giving you what you want, aren't I? Stupid, spoiled brat." you continued to move your hips up and down his cock, knowing if he really wanted you to stop, he'd say the safe word. "Plus, I haven't come yet. You're not gonna be a selfish brat too, are you? Don't you wanna make me come?"

He nodded his head incessantly. "Wanna make you come too..." he panted out breathlessly, bucking his hips up into you and moving his hand back down to your clit.

You continued like that for what felt like hours. He wasn't sure how many times he came, yet one thing was certain, and that was no matter how many hours you spent fucking him so roughly, he still hadn't had enough of your touch as you lay in bed during the dark hours of the night with his head by your chest as he showed you all the funny videos he couldn't send you earlier.

#fanfic #smut #jjk smut #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic #gojo satoru x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fluff and smut #gojo fluff

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corroded-hellfire · 4 months

Text

Red Hot - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

Collaboration with the woman who makes this series possible @munson-blurbs 💚

Summary: It’s been one year since you and Eddie discovered your feelings for one another—and so much more. Now, it’s your anniversary and a romantic evening is planned. Unfortunately, life with two little boys around tends to throw some wrenches in your life—even on special nights like this.

Note: I cannot believe it’s been a year since I posted the first part of As You Wish. It was only intended to be this spicy one shot but so many people asked for a part 2 and…here we are! I can’t thank all of you enough for reading. It means more to me than you know 💜

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), breeding kink, oral, m and f receiving, vomit, implied medical issues, age gap, older!eddie

Words: 5.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

One whole year has passed of you being with Eddie. One year since the night he’d come home sullen after what was supposed to be a nice evening out, only to find that his deepest desire was right there waiting for him on the worn blue couch in his living room.

Honestly, it was the night both of your wishes came true. Such dark secrets you each harbored, never thinking that the other could possibly return the feelings. You, thinking he wouldn’t see you as anything more than a babysitter for his two kids. Him, thinking you’d never be interested in a man over a decade older than you. The spark finally lit the flame though, leading to the best year of your lives. The best year of the boys’ lives as well. Neither you nor Eddie had ever seen the kids in all around better moods than this past year—and that’s even with the divorce and custody proceedings.

A romantic date night was planned for the one year anniversary, a date that came with some discussion at first. You had brought up that you weren’t a fan of having your anniversary with Eddie on the same day that was his wedding anniversary with Brittany. Eddie was quick to assure you that this had just been the night he and Brittany were able to get out and celebrate their anniversary—not the actual day itself.

“Pretty sure the fun you and I had that night went past midnight, into the next day anyway,” Eddie added with a smirk.

So, the evening was planned. An intimate dinner out together while Ryan has a sleepover at his friend Charlie’s house and Luke spends the night with Wayne.

Even though you didn’t officially live with the Munson men yet, you did spend more time than not at their apartment. A drawer in Eddie’s dresser contained a stash of your clothes, a toothbrush sat right next to Eddie’s by the sink, and if you weren’t spending the night, the boys would call up at bedtime to say goodnight to you anyway. So, it made perfect sense for you to get ready at the apartment so you and Eddie could just go together to drop Luke off and Wayne’s and then be on your way to the restaurant.

You’re in Eddie’s room, leaning over his dresser to get a better look at your face in the mirror as you apply eyeliner. Eddie is wearing black dress pants with a gray shirt that make you want to rip them right off. He’s currently securing his hair in a low bun as you do your best not to stab yourself in the eye with the stubby little black pencil.

Just as you finish applying mascara, you hear the soft pitter-patter of Luke’s feet headed towards the master bedroom.

“I frew up.”

“Oh, Christ,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, swiveling on one heel. “What happened?”

Luke shrugs. “My tummy hurt and then I frew up. But I got most of it in the toilet; wanna see?”

Eddie just looks at you, twisting the mascara wand back into the tube, then back at his son.

“Most of it?” Eddie asks.

“Mhm.” Luke scampers back to the bathroom, and you and Eddie follow reluctantly.

Both you and your boyfriend were expecting the smell to be worse as you step into the bathroom. Your eyes are on the ground, making sure not to step in anything Luke wasn’t able to get in the toilet.

The sick mess in the toilet—and around it—is bright red.

“Shit.” Eddie scoops up Luke, not caring that there’s now vomit on his dress shirt. “Luke, did you have any fruit snacks today at lunch? Gushers or Fruit Roll-Ups or something like that?”

The little boy shakes his head. “Just a chocolate chip cookie.”

Eddie looks at you, horrified. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen true fear in Eddie’s eyes, and it curdles your own stomach.

“We have to get him to the hospital,” Eddie says. His tone is urgent, but not panicked. The last thing you need is for Luke to start freaking out.

You nod in reply, already heading out into the hall, grabbing all three of your coats from the closet and tucking them under your arm.

Luke is clearly confused. He keeps looking back and forth between you and his father, his little brow pinching together.

“Why are we going to the hopsital?” he asks. “I feel good!”

Famous last words, Eddie thinks. He needs both hands and feet to count the number of times his kids have claimed that they weren’t sick just moments before they inevitably crashed.

Neither you nor your boyfriend know how to respond to Luke, so you silently help him into his coat while Eddie shrugs on his own. The keys clang as Eddie takes them off a peg by the front door and tosses them your way. Then he picks up a still-confused Luke and heads out the door.

You drive while Eddie sits in the backseat with Luke. It’s quite obvious you two adults are more stressed out than the six-year-old is. Both of you keep checking in on him but there’s no deviation from the usual Luke-ness that you know and love.

“How do you feel?” you ask, glancing at Luke in the rear view mirror.

“I’m hungry; can we get McDonalds?”

When you arrive at the emergency room, you pick up Luke to carry so Eddie can go ahead and alert the employees at the intake desk of what’s going on.

The biting February wind stings your nose and cheeks as you cross the parking lot, but Luke keeps chatting away as though it’s just a regular evening.

“Did you know that birds feed their babies by frowing up in their beaks?”

“Wow, you know so many things,” you manage, trying to tamper your nausea and nerves.

“That’s like if you chewed up my chicken nuggets and spit them into my mouth.”

“Yup, I’ve got the visual.”

Secretly, your insides warm up, flattered that he considers you the “mommy bird.”

“My teacher got pooped on by a bird today, but she didn’t even notice.”

He continues talking through the whole process: waiting, triage, until he’s assigned a room and asked to wear a hospital gown. The moment you step out of the room to give him some privacy, it feels as if the world outside the small room has gone silent, save for the occasional beep from medical instruments. Now it’s too quiet without Luke’s chattering. Needing to do something besides just standing there, full of nervous energy, you walk down the hall to find a payphone and call Wayne to let him know what’s going on.

Back in the room, Eddie is trying to get his nerves under control. Nothing’s wrong, he tries to assure himself. And even if there was—which there isn’t—he’s in the best possible place he could be and surrounded by professionals who probably see all sorts of things far worse than whatever this might be.

“Where are the pants?” Luke asks, looking like a dog chasing its tail as he tries to get a look at the back of the gown.

“No pants,” Eddie tells him as he ties the strings together in the back for him. There’s a soft knock on the door and Eddie tugs it open.

You step back into the room and Luke grins and holds his arms out at his sides.

“Look! I’m wearing a dress just like you!”

Despite the seriousness of the visit, you can’t help but smile. Though your purple A-line dress looks nothing like the white gown covered in blue dots that he’s wearing.

“Now you’re my twin instead of Daddy’s,” you tease.

That makes Luke giggle, and he sits down on the bed, dangling his short legs over the side. It isn’t long before Luke is taken back for tests, most of which Eddie is allowed to accompany him for. You know that’s probably bringing far more comfort to Eddie than Luke at the moment.

You wait back in the room, anxious thoughts getting the better of you now that you’re alone and have time for your brain to wander. There are a bunch of brochures spread out on a table, so you decide to flip through some of them, keep your mind busy. None of them seem relevant to any medical issue you’ll ever have; then again, you never pictured yourself rushing a kid to the hospital for bloody puke, so you plunk down with a booklet on goiters. It mentions scurvy, which reminds you of Luke, and you have to stifle your amusement before you become known as the Woman Who Laughs at Goiters.

The nurse brings Luke and Eddie back to the room, along with an old coloring book and some crayons. Artist that he is, Luke is already eyeing the different colors to see which one he’ll want to use first.

“It’ll be another hour until we have all the results,” the nurse announces somewhat apologetically.

Eddie manages a weak smile as he plops into his chair. You reach over and slide your hand into his. A gentle squeeze greets your touch, and you give him one back in reassurance.

Finally making his decision, Luke plucks a red crayon out of the box.

“Did you know that these don’t taste like cherry?”

Everyone—including this poor nurse—stares at him.

“Luke,” Eddie starts, “why would you think it tastes like cherry?”

“Evan Holloway said it did,” Luke replies absentmindedly as he starts to color a fire truck, “but I think he was just kidding, because it tasted gross.”

Eddie bites back a comment about how the kid didn’t stand a chance at being nice with parents like Heather Holloway and Billy Hargrove. It’s not the time or place though.

“When did you eat the crayon?” You investigate further.

“Today during arts and crafts,” he says, tongue poking out of his lips as he concentrates on the drawing at hand.

You and Eddie both look at the nurse apologetically.

“When I asked you about what you ate today that was red, why didn’t you mention the crayon?” Eddie’s teeth are gritted as he tries to maintain his composure.

“You asked about fruit snacks, not crayons.” He pauses and looks up from his coloring book. “But don’t worry; I took the paper off first.”

“Oh, good.” Eddie rolls his eyes, and you put your hand on his shoulder.

Luke’s confession—and subsequent perfect test results—allow him to be discharged. He falls asleep in the car almost as soon as Eddie puts it in drive and leaves the parking lot.

The ride home is draped in comfortable, relaxing silence. After hours of machines incessantly beeping, doctors checking in, and Luke whining about his boredom, the quiet is certainly welcome. At least now there’s a massive weight off of your and Eddie’s shoulders.

The little boy doesn’t even stir when you arrive at home, so Eddie carries him into the apartment and to his room, gently tucking him into bed.

“G’night, crazy kid,” he says with a soft laugh. He kisses his forehead, and you do the same before you both head to your own bedroom.

“Baby, I’m so tired—” Eddie starts, the two of you practically collapsing onto the queen-sized mattress.

You muster up a nod. “Me, too, Eds.”

“Raincheck on me rocking your world?” he smirks, leaning in and kissing your nose.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“I’m home!”

Ryan’s excited voice jolts you awake; when you glance at the clock, it’s only a bit after 7 AM. Charlie’s mom must’ve been eager to end the sleepover.

Eddie pushes himself up on an elbow and cracks one eye open. “Wait, Ry; how did you get in the house?” He didn’t have a spare key, and Eddie always made sure the doors were locked at night.

Ryan shrugs. “I rang the buzzer and Luke let me in.”

Eddie groans and lets out a yawn. He’ll have to remind his youngest son about making sure an adult knows someone’s coming into the house, but he doesn’t have the energy now. Instead, he focuses on Ryan. “Ya have fun at Charlie’s?”

“Yeah!” he chirps. “We had—”

You slowly sit up, trying to keep your temper at being woken up. “Can we hear this story over breakfast, Ry?”

He agrees and bounds into the kitchen, you and Eddie sleepily trailing behind.

Luke is already halfway through a bowl of Frosted Flakes when the three of you walk out to the kitchen.

“Ryan!” he shouts, way too loud for this early in the morning. Cereal sprays everywhere, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I went to the hospital last night!”

Ryan’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “What?!”

“Yeah! I just told Grandpa about it.”

Eddie frowns in confusion. “When did you talk to Grandpa?” He grabs a bowl from the pantry and pours himself some cereal. Nothing sugary like the boys eat; those days are behind him.

“I just called him before when I woke up,” Luke says with a shrug.

You throw some Eggos in the toaster for Ryan while the boys both regale you with their respective tales. Luke manages to make it sound much more fun than it actually was last night, tapping into his father’s knack for storytelling. Part of you is surprised there’s no supernatural elements to this tale.

A little later in the day there’s a knock on the door. Eddie turns the knob and is surprised to see Wayne on the other side. He raises his eyebrows as he regards the older man.

“What are you doing here?” he asks before realizing how that sounded. “I mean, hi.”

“I told Luke I was coming over,” Wayne says, nodding to the younger boy coming up behind his father.

Eddie looks at the boy as he closes the door behind Wayne.

“Luke, you never told me that.”

“You didn’t ask.”

Even though he already told him on the phone, Luke once again laments the events of last night to his grandfather. Once he’s done, Ryan tells Wayne all about his sleepover at Charlie’s last night.

When he finally gets a moment to talk to you and Eddie without the rugrats around, Wayne offers to take the boys for the rest of the day and overnight so the two of you can have a do over on your anniversary date.

“You sure, Old Man?” Eddie asks.

“Positive. I’ll just keep ‘em away from crayons.”

The moment the three of them leave, Eddie locks the door behind them and grabs your hand to drag you into the bedroom.

“Eds!”

“Oh, right; where are my manners?” Eddie admonishes himself. “I should take you out to eat first.” He heads into the kitchen and fishes the brochure for your go-to Chinese restaurant. Not even needing to ask you, he orders your favorites before hanging up and turning back to you. “Now, time for my meal.” There’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “If you don’t cum in thirty minutes, your next orgasm is free.”

The moment your back lands on the bed, he tugs off your pants and panties and buries himself between your legs. There’s time for slow and romantic later, you both need each other now.

“This pussy is perfect, goddamn.”

Any response is futile as words have left your brain the second Eddie’s tongue flicks over your clit. He does it over and over again, causing your abdomen muscles to tighten and your fists grip the blanket below you.

You let your eyes fall closed and lose yourself in the feeling of Eddie sucking on your clit. He knows the exact speeds and pressures to get you where he wants you, changing it up in the most pleasurable of ways. As your back arches off the bed at a particularly harsh suck, Eddie slips two fingers into your waiting hole, meeting no resistance. Being stretched by and filled with Eddie just has you that much closer to hitting your high.

Eddie pumps his fingers in time with his licks and it isn’t long before you feel that familiar heat building up in your body. Your boyfriend must be able to sense this as well, because he curls his fingers up against your walls as his tongue continues to flick over your sensitive bundle of nerves. It’s enough to have you seeing stars. Part of you wants it to last longer, but you know Eddie will do this again and again for you if you ask. The thought of him wanting to make you feel good and wanting your body so much is the push you need into oblivion.

“Fuck! Oh shit, Eddie,” you whine, a hand going down to grip his hair. “I’m—I’m coming.”

Eddie knows how to extract every last wave of pleasure from you as he works you through the orgasm. This he’ll take his time with, after being in such a haste to get you off. You feel boneless as you lay on the bed, utterly wrecked from your boyfriend’s thick fingers and sinful mouth.

You whine as Eddie slips his fingers from your pussy, but the whine turns into a moan when he pops them into his mouth. It’s suddenly given you a burst of energy.

“My turn,” you say, giving him a salacious grin.

Eddie flings his shirt into an abyss of laundry and rolls onto his back so you can trail kisses down his torso. He giggles when your fingers brush against his stomach as you unbuckle his belt and tug his pants off. His erection springs free, already leaking pre-cum from getting you off.

“Such a pretty cock, Eds,” you muse, your lips tenderly touching the head. “And it’s all mine, huh?”

“Y-Yup,” his breath hitches. “All yours; please, please suck it for me.”

You happily oblige—as if there was any doubt that you would—licking from base to tip with a flattened tongue. His thighs twitch at the contact, the movement punctuated with a low groan. You never knew how much you appreciated a vocal man until you’d slept with Eddie. Now it’s a goal of yours to get him to make as much noise as possible.

“Oh, princess,” he growls, fingers twisting in the sheets. “Baby girl.”

Your hand grasps the part of him that doesn’t fit in your mouth, leaving no square inch of his cock untouched in some way. You want—no, you need—to make him feel good. Thinking back to that first time together, fueled by lust, but also a desire for one another. A longing that had burned steady in both of you. Eddie could have waited up for Brittany and had lackluster sex; you could have hooked up with that guy from your anthropology class who’s always checking you out. But that wouldn’t have been satisfying; you craved Eddie and Eddie craved you. It was impossible to satisfy that urge any other way.

He bucks his hips gently now, his signal that he’s close. You pump him faster, grip him tighter, until he’s spilling into your mouth and down your chin.

Once you’re satisfied that you’ve milked everything you can from him, you pull off and swallow his load. Eddie manages just enough strength to lift his head up as he attempts to catch his breath. His eyes darken as he watches you lick your lips and wipe off the cum that drooled out onto your chin and pop it in your mouth.

“God damn,” Eddie breathes out.

You share in that sentiment. This fast and rough sex is exactly what the two of you needed after such a scary and stressful evening last night.

The doorbell rings and your boyfriend flops his head back down, his curls spilling around his pillow like a halo.

“Want me to get it?” you offer, pushing yourself off the bed.

“Uh uh,” Eddie tuts. He haphazardly reaches over the side of the bed to search for his boxers. “Only I get to see you looking this wrecked.” A playful wink is thrown your way as Eddie sits up. He hops off the bed and slips on his boxers, sweats, and an old Deep Purple t-shirt. “You get dressed, baby.”

“Don’t wanna,” you say with a pout.

It makes Eddie chuckle, and he presses a kiss to the side of your head before reaching for the knob on the bedroom door.

“Don’t worry, we can take them off again later.”

Eddie strolls out of the room, and you raid your drawer in his dresser. There’s an old pair of jeans shoved in the back that you pull out and hop into those while you scoop one of Eddie’s old Hellfire shirts that he let you cut and customize to your liking—a true sign of love right there—laying over the arm of a chair.

When you meet Eddie in the living room, he’s unpacking your food into the coffee table. There’s a pile of VHS tapes in the corner of the room, and though most of them are the kids’, you manage to find Benny & Joon and pop that into the player.

The moment you plop down on the couch next to Eddie, he wraps his arm around your hips and tugs your body up against his.

“It’s difficult to eat with one hand, you know,” you tell him when he doesn’t move his arm.

“I’ll deal.”

Somehow, he does—even if it causes a bit of a mess on the couch and coffee table.

Eddie swallows a mouth full of rice and turns to look at you. His eyes take in your profile, the expression on his face turning to adoring almost instantly.

“I’m really grateful that you were there with me last night,” he admits, voice softer and more serious than usual. “I don’t know if I would’ve been able to handle that without you.”

The way that you look at him from beneath your eyelashes takes his breath away. He gets just as stunned by your beauty now as he did when he opened the front door that first time he met you.

“Yes, you could’ve,” you assure him. “You’re stronger than you think, Eddie. But I’m glad you didn’t have to do it alone. There’s nowhere I’d rather have been at the moment than with you. Well…I’d have liked not to have had to go to the hospital at all, but you know.”

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head. “Turns out we didn’t need to anyway.” Your boyfriend sighs and runs a hand over his face. “God, Luke’s gonna kill me someday.”

“Kill you with his cuteness, you mean.”

“You mean because he looks just like me?” Eddie asks, a cocky smirk dancing on his lips.

“Of course,” you say with a chuckle. You lean in and press your lips to Eddie’s, resting your hand on his chest.

“You mean the world to me,” Eddie whispers against your lips. He knows he’s told you that many times, in many different ways. But it’s because he needs you to know how true it is. Having a partner who he can count on and trust with his life—with his son’s lives. It’s new to him, and even after a year, it surprises him every day how much you do for him and the boys. Your kindness and your heart are bottomless, he’s decided. And though he has no clue how he got so lucky, he’s not about to question it.

“I feel the same way about you,” you reply, also in a soft tone. Eddie always tells you the way that you make his life better, but he tends to brush you off when you try to do the same. He believes you deserve more than him, but he doesn’t realize there isn’t any more than him. He is everything.

“I can’t believe we’ve been together a year,” Eddie says. Sometimes it feels like it went by in the blink of an eye, but when he thinks about all the shit the two of you have had to overcome, he thinks that a year feels about right.

“Best year ever,” you say. “Even dealing with a certain psycho couldn’t ruin it.” You don’t want to mention Brittany by name, but you need to let him know that you’d do it all over time and time again despite her and all the bullshit.

“Aw, come on. Ryan’s not that bad,” Eddie jokes. You giggle and bury your face in his neck. Electricity sparks where your skin rests against his and Eddie wraps you up in his arms. “Happy anniversary, baby. I love you much.”

“I love you too,” you murmur against his skin. You go to wish him a happy anniversary as well, but Eddie’s loud growling stomach steals your thunder and sends you into another round of giggles. “Would you like some of my food?”

“God, you’re perfect.”

Not five minutes after the two of you finish your food, Eddie has you on your back, his body resting comfortably on top of yours as you makeout. The kisses are slow and passionate, taking your time to explore one another’s mouths. Hands roam each other’s bodies, some soft touches and some rough grabs—all of it possessive.

Needing air, Eddie pulls his mouth from yours and begins to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Strong fingers dig into your hips as you lift your own hands to tangle in his soft curls.

“Bedroom?” Eddie growls against your skin.

“No,” you say, wrapping your legs around the man’s hips to keep him where he is. “Want you here.”

“Mm, whatever my princess wants,” Eddie mutters, punctuating it by grazing your jaw with his teeth. Slowly, he sits up, bringing you with him until you’re seated comfortably in his lap.

You shiver, his tongue warm against your neck and hands strong on your back and sides. It’s as though you can’t be close enough to him, your hips rolling to create a friction that has both of you aroused.

Eddie unbuttons your jeans disapprovingly. “Don’t know why you even bothered to put these back on,” he tuts, apparently forgetting that he was the one who told you to. “Now I gotta rip ‘em off again. Making this harder than it needs to be.”

“Tell me more about making things harder,” you tease, grinding against his stiff length with the intent of feeling him through your panties.

“You’re trouble,” he murmurs into your mouth, a smile twitching on his lips. “I fuckin’ love it.”

Your pants get shrugged down your legs, not even making it all the way off, and your lace thong gets pushed over slightly to expose your pussy. Eddie pulls himself out of his boxers and runs his cock along your soaked core before aligning himself with your entrance.

“Tha’s it,” he moans as you sink onto him, taking every inch within your walls. “Fuck, you know exactly what I want.”

You bite your lip and nod. It’s as though your brain clicks off when he first enters you, your head filled only with thoughts of Eddie Eddie Eddie.

Once you regain some semblance of sanity, you hold onto his biceps and bounce on his cock, the tip hitting your sweet spot over and over. “So big—so full,” you manage, eyes rolling back as he thrust up into you.

“That’s right; you’re fuckin’ full of me,” he grits out, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. “And I’m gonna pump you full of my cum, too.”

You nod before gently biting down on his shoulder. “Please. Want your cum.”

“I know you do, princess. Because I’ve gotta fill you with my cum to knock you up, don’t I?”

You can only whimper in response, but that isn’t satisfactory for your boyfriend.

“Words, princess.”

“Want you to knock me up!” It comes out in one pathetic breath.

His thrusts become more frantic, needier. “Oh, I don’t think you want it,” he goads. “I think you need it. I think you need me to get you pregnant, so you can show off that you fuckin’ belong to me—and only me.”

Tears form along your lash line; your orgasm is so close, but you know he can withhold your pleasure if you don’t answer him. “Need your baby,” you whisper. “Need everyone to know I’m yours.”

“God fuckin’ damn.” The thought of you swollen with pregnancy has him unhinged, his thumb circling your clit as his own release nears. “Gonna fuck you so full.”

You clench around him, chanting his name while you cum. He follows, holding down your hips so he can slam into you and give you every last drop.

A string of breathy whines leaves your lips as you lower your head down to Eddie’s shoulder. His grip on you softens and slowly glides up your body until one hand trails up and down your back and the other cups the back of your head.

“How was that?” he murmurs.

“Fucking amazing and you know it,” you mumble against his shoulder.

Eddie chuckles and you pick your head up to press your lips against his.

“Don’t wanna move,” you say with a sigh.

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie coos. “Just want to keep me inside of you forever, don’t you?”

As hard as he just made you cum, you shouldn’t get so instantly turned on by his words and teasing tone. And though he may be teasing, he is also absolutely correct.

You push against his chest playfully and reluctantly move yourself off of his lap. As gracefully as you can manage—which isn’t very—you lay back down on the couch. A trickle down the inside of your thigh tells you that Eddie’s cum is escaping. Your boyfriend seems to notice this just as you do.

“Absolutely not,” he says as uses two fingers to shove it back into you.

The feeling has your eyes fluttering closed as you let your muscles relax into the cushions.

“Ah, shit,” Eddie says.

“What?” you ask, forcing your eyes open. Eddie’s looking down and you follow his line of sight to see that some of his cum got away from both of you and landed on your jeans. “Oh, it’s okay. They’re—huh.”

A giggle begins to bubble up out of you and Eddie raises an eyebrow in question.

“Eds, these are the same jeans I was wearing that night,” you tell him.

“Our first night?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I couldn’t find them when I went to get dressed. Someone else did though and threw them in my face.” You chuckle at the memory. “I didn’t even remember I had these jeans stashed here at your place.”

“And as nice as they are,” Eddie drawls, crawling on top of your body, “I think you look far better without them on. Or any pants. Or any clothes.”

You smirk up at him and drape your arms around his neck. “What do you say we make some new stains, then?”

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS

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pandoraslxna · 29 days

Text

Sweet like Cherry — Chapter 5

Miles Quaritch x female scientist reader

Words: 6.3k

Summary: Miles has a secret admirer and apparently, she has a thing for photography.

Warnings: explicit smut, age gap, size difference, alcohol consumption, somehow all men are assholes in this chapter, taking advantage of a drunk reader, cat calling, spanking, rough oral (f receiving), jealousy, possessive behavior, minimal dub-con warning, gambling, biting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, virgin reader, obsession, authority kink, power play, corruption kink

There's a good reason as to why you don’t talk about personal things with your coworkers.

The problem with most coworkers is, they either don’t know or don’t care about someone’s boundaries. They'll just do something like this because they think it’s a nice gesture, and you don’t understand the point when in reality, they just need another reason to get wasted on another saturday night.

Out of place didn’t even begin to cover the way you felt right now.

You knew parties could be fun and a good time for everyone. Not that you’ve been to many before. You just don’t want to be in the middle of this, can't stand the fact that all these people are clustered around, laughing and talking and celebrating you. It feels like a game of play pretend. You don’t even know half of these people that claim to be your friends. They’re not even coworkers, you think. A dozen of them you’ve never even seen before and you’re sure they don’t even work on the same floor as you.

Maggie is going to pay for this later, because she's the only one who could possibly have told them that it's your birthday, and you specifically told her you weren’t going to let her do anything for your birthday. But you should’ve known, the second she asked to do your make up, then stuffed you into this sinfully tight and entirely too short dress of hers because she convinced you it would be fun, and then coincidentally found a pair of heels to match the look.

You couldn’t actually be that stupid, could you? Obviously she had something planned for you, when she asked to spend the evening of your birthday with you for a coffee. Now that coffee turned out to be whatever liquor was filled into that plastic cup in your hand that was then downed with a loud, cheerful whoo of every women in the room because they convinced you that’s how it’s done at a party.

"Aren't you enjoying yourself even a litte?" Laura asks, looking a little like a puppy hoping for a treat as she watches you chew on the inside of your cheek, standing stiff like a rod in the far corner of the room. You’re almost a little disappointed in her, after you found out she helped planning all this. But you can’t be mad at her when she only means good. Apparently that’s what good cowork— friends. That’s what good friends are supposed to do for each other.

And even though you want to say no, you can't bring yourself to throw their kindness back in their faces. After all, they were the only ones that gave you a chance to prove that you could be more than just that nerd. That nerd that doesn’t even bother to make friends or go to parties, that nerd that doesn't even get invited to said parties because you’re no fun anyways.

You may have earned yourself that name, but it still stings to think too much about it. And maybe you don’t want to be that nerd forever. Maybe you want to let yourself enjoy this.

"Yes, I'm enjoying myself," you finally say, swallowing down a sigh.

"Then smile, and go dance with us!" Maggie nudges your side and you cringe at the thought of dancing in the center of the crowded room.

"Why?" You force out a laugh, even though the question is genuine.

"Is this going to be some kind of philosophy discussion?" The brunette rolls her eyes, and you can’t help but admire her talent in applying false eyelashes that long without poking her eyeballs out. "I wanna dance, that's why!"

"I don't dance."

"Everybody dances! You just move, and you're dancing. How easy is that?"

"No I mean, I don't dance. I spazz. It's painful to watch. Me, spazzing all over the floor…" Your voice has grown quieter with every word, until you’re nearly hiding yourself by taking another gulp of that bright yellow liquor in your cup.

It's sweet and fizzy and tastes like sunlight might if you could drink it, so you empty another cup.

Flashing lights give you a taste of what epilepsy might be like and you feel the music pounding through the air and floor caress your every nerve. You feel fuzzy.

But it seems to be a good fuzzy. Warm happiness flows through your body like thick honey. Okay, maybe that happiness was just this overly sweet tasting booze, but you still felt distant in a nice way, and your head seemed to be floating, only attached to your neck by a string. The feel of Maggie’s sweating hand wrapped around your wrist distracted you beyond words, until you realized she was trying to drag you somewhere.

"Well then, let’s find yourself some company so you don’t get bored while you don’t dance all night", she giggles.

The two of you wended your way across to the other side of the room despite every protest that came from you; dodging tables, drunks, dancers, and others with ease, until Maggie seemed to reach her destination with a proud smile on her face. A group of men, most of them as unfamiliar as the better half of people here.

One of them you knew, though. It was Phil from floor 3. G., that computer engineer that had earned himself the title of Maggie’s friend, but with certain… benefits. However by the way these two were looking at each other through that heavy drunken lust in their eyes, one could assume they were actually more than just that.

Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you nervously nipped at your drink once again as Maggie introduced you to the group. A bunch of people that came to celebrate you, yet none of them even knew your name, you came to realize. Great. And if you weren’t slowly starting to feel very funny inside, that would’ve been just another reason for you to leave this party immediately, slip into your favorite pjs and call it a night.

"So, twenty-six, huh?" One of the men smiles and lifts his drink in a toast, gently tipping the cup against yours which snaps you out of your trance. Looking up, you’re met with long, silky curls that framed a slightly tanned and politely smiling face. Your eyes skimmed over his frame for a split second. His body was...compact, lean, firm, though not overly muscular. Just an average looking guy.

"Yep", you clear your throat and send the man an awkward smile that he answers with a chuckle.

"I‘m Ben", he says and for a second, you hesitate to take his hand that he holds out for you to shake. "Nice to meet you."

The impact of that barest of touches, a mere whisper of skin-against-skin as you shake his hand and he squeezes yours, was enough to send blood rushing to your cheeks. His hands are soft, too soft, you think. Ironically, that makes you think about the dozen times a day lately when you had caught yourself thinking about Quaritch‘s hands. His are rough, big and warm, littered in tiny scars that you could feel when he caressed your skin or when he held you in a bruising grip.

The ones that had you concentrate very hard, to not beg him to touch you, on running those fingers across your body. His hands weren’t soft like Bens, who probably worked behind a desk and spent most of his times indoors, preferably in an office of some sorts.

Ben was also polite, you realized right away. He held small talk like it was second nature to him, even though you couldn’t help the awkwardness in the beginning. But his voice is smooth like honey and his jokes actually manage to make you laugh. Genuinely.

But by the time you had emptied your next cup, you couldn’t even seem to focus on the conversation anymore. Everything had turned into a blur of movements around you, and you were grateful for Bens guiding hand as he placed a glass of water into one of yours and took the empty red cup from the other.

"Here, drink this", he said with a chuckle, "Can’t have the birthday girl pass out this early on her special day, right?"

For a moment that seemed endless to you but for anyone near sober it must’ve been nothing more than a few seconds, your eyes lingered on him. Ben was cute, you thought. Not that kind of puppy cute that could make you go aww and ruffle through his hair, but that kind that made you blush and feel hot all over. He was handsome too. For an average guy. But then again, you’re just an average woman, are you not? And kindness, real kindness, was something you suddenly felt very starved for, especially now that it was served to you on a silver platter.

Suddenly it felt as if that hunger was beginning to burn out of control. As if he could sense your feelings, Ben moved just a little closer, the heat from his body searing your skin as he placed a hand to your upper arm and tilted his head.

"Y-Yes, no, i mean–", you stutter, quickly adverting your gaze from him to the glass of water in your hand. "You’re right. Sorry, i didn’t mean to zoom out like that, it’s just been… it’s just been a week for me and normally I don’t drink. Not that much, at least."

His hand moves in a soothing motion, up and down on your arm as he listens attentively. Ben tells you that you have nothing to apologize for. He asks about your work, your studies. He nods along and smiles to everything you say and it makes you feel appreciated, on a level you can’t remember ever feeling before.

It takes an embarrassing amount of time for you to realize that you’re rambling about your work life. And it takes you even longer to realize that through it all, Bens hand hasn’t moved away. That all it did was move up, up, up until he reaches to cup your jaw, his thumb stroking over your cheek just as you explain to him how the the Pamtseowll can be used as a musical instruments due to the sound produced when the wind moves across the leaves of the plant. Looking back you realized, that must’ve been pretty boring for him to listen to, especially since Ben decided to cut you off mid sentence as he pressed his booze tasting lips against yours.

You’re taken aback from the sudden invasion of your personal space, especially when Ben wraps his arm around your middle and pulls you flush against him. But the alcohol in your system makes up for that pretty quickly, heat rushing up to your face and simultaneously between your thighs makes you feel tingly all over.

His tongue pushes past your lips and you gasp into the kiss, the cup in your hand almost slipping out of your grasp as you lean into it.

The allure of cruising for a quick fuck, or possibly hustling for one; no commitment, no strings makes itself known when a soft sigh, almost a whimper, escapes you. It could be so easy, you think. You could do it tonight and get it over with.

You had to do something about this, this feeling whatever it was, get it out of you.

And his lips already fit so perfect against yours, but that’s really the problem, isn’t it? They’re not too big or too small. His hands can’t close entirely around your upper arm. His chest is basically flush with yours. God, you’re almost eye level with him. He’s so normal, so average. It doesn’t feel special with him. There’s no spark behind his kiss, it doesn’t consume you, it doesn’t take your breath away. He doesn’t make you feel special.

No. This wasn't a good idea.

It was no use, picking a man that wasn't even going to be able to fill in for the one you actually wanted. The one who’s hands you wished were touching you now, instead of Bens. The one who’s lips you wanted on yours, so desperately, you couldn’t even stop imagining it were his instead.

Fuck it, you thought. If he could seek you out to find some temporary relief, so could you. And you needed one, needed him, before you did something you would surely regret in the morning.

Bens face was so close, you had to blink a few times to bring it into focus before you gave him a subtle little push and his lips finally detached from yours.

It must’ve been the sudden change of your facial expression, but he suddenly found the need to apologize for kissing you so sudden, so unsolicited.

"No, no, it’s not that. I just need some fresh air, I feel a little nauseous", you admitted sheepishly, which was both, the truth and a lie. You tried not to pay too much attention to the guilty look in Bens face as you excused yourself and quickly found a way to the exit without anyone taking notice of you, basically ditching your own party.

By now, you could make the walk through the dimly lit hallways to Quaritchs room in your sleep. Or, in this case, drunk and on uncoordinated feet.

Anticipation fills your hazed mind and with an enthusiastic thud, your knuckles connect with the metal frame, producing a muffled echo as you knock on his door.

Heart pounding rapidly in your chest, you eagerly wait for him to open, but the silence that follows is deafening. The realization slowly dawns on you that the Colonel isn't home and a mix of disappointment and frustration crosses your face. But you won’t give up that easily. If he’s not here, there’s only one place he could be at this time of the night.

Two floors up and down the corridor on the left, you could already see light beaming under the comically large door, loud voices and laughter echoing through the hallways that could already be heard as you had exited the elevator earlier.

Peaking into the common room that belonged to team Deja blue, you were greeted by a vibrant atmosphere where you knew the military men gathered to unwind after work. The space was adorned with patriotic decor, displaying flags, emblems, and photographs that reflect their shared commitment as well as their love for barely dressed na’vi pin up girls sitting on tanks and posing with guns. How ironic.

The air carries the smell of smoke and beer, and the musky scent of the day's work and you can’t help but shudder. Your inner warning sirens were working overtime as you stepped foot into the room, fear making your knees go weak, yet every sense of logic and common sense was overtuned by the alcohol buzzing through you. The room exuded a sense of unity, one you clearly didn’t belong to, making you stick out like a sore thumb.

Uniformed recombinant soldiers were relaxing on comfortable couches, their boots resting on coffee tables, engage in heated games of pool or cards -everything maximized to their ridiculous size.

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for the first pair of eyes to land on your much smaller frame, before nudging the recom next to them with their elbow, pointing at you with their chin.

You try to ignore their boring gazes, the sound of low whistles and snickering picking up the more of them realized your presence. Pulling your sinfully short dress a little down lower, a feeling of regret fills your cheeks in a dark blush. But before you can change your mind and turn around to exit, a large palm settles on your lower back, keeping you from walking backwards out of the room.

"Hey doll face, where ya‘ going?"

Craning your neck up, you’re met with a grin that belonged to a recom that had a pair of sunglasses resting on top of his bald head. You knew he seemed familiar, but the liquor you had consumed earlier made it impossible to concentrate enough to remember his name.

"Oh excuse me, I- I‘m– I was just, uhm, looking for Colonel Quaritch?" You winced at the way you made it sound like a question, cursing yourself for embarrassing you by drunkenly rambling to a stranger.

"The Colonel?" He exchanged a look over his shoulder with some of the other soldiers, who were seemingly interested in what you had to say. "Why’s that, buttercup?"

"I, uhm, want to give him something", you improvise. "It’s urgent." That much was true.

The man looks you up and down for a moment, his eyes nearly peeling the little dress from your body as he takes you in, brows raised high.

"Give him something, huh? Why don’t you give that little something to me?" He laughs.

"He’s not here right now, but we can have good time together too", one of the others calls from behind.

You swallow the lump in your throat, awkwardly picking at your fingernails as your hands begin to shake. Deciding to back off and step back from the whole situation, you set one foot behind the other, already preparing yourself to mumble an embarrassing excuse before an arm wraps itself around your waist and you nearly stumble forward and into one of the soldiers arms.

"C‘mere pretty, I don’t bite", he grins, then points his chin to the bald soldier on his right, "But the Corporal over there sure does."

The men laugh and shove each other like a group of rowdy teenagers, and you’re honestly scared one of them could accidentally crush you if they fell. You use the short moment of chaos to wriggle yourself out of the soldiers grasp, only to be stopped short by your wrist.

"C‘mon short stuff, don’t leave", the bald one shows you an almost apologetic smile that you still struggle to trust. "Ignore these fuckers. Stay for a drink, yeah? I‘m sure the Colonel will be back in a minute. And we have the best beer anyone could get in this shit hole!"

Blame it on the liquor, but your mind was slowly beginning to draw blank, throwing all logic and consequences right out of the window and welcoming the nervous excitement of the forbidden. It felt like there was a pressure in your ribcage, making it harder for you to breathe properly, until you finally exhaled a shaky response.

"Just one."

The thing about working in the military is that you learn to kill your own tells. Killing your own tells is what keeps you from getting that double-tap to the back of the head. But learning how to pick up on what other people do when they're nervous as fuck, that's what’s really helpful, you’ve only just realized.

In hindsight, you should have known that agreeing to one beer that ultimately lead to two more and then to a round of poker was a bad idea. And now you’re perched up on someone’s lap and you don’t even know how poker works. That someone is named Lyle, you remind yourself of the previous learned name. His chin rests on top of your shoulder, nose buried in your shared cards that you hold up for him to see, one of his hands squeezing your hip while the other holds your hands steady.

"This one next," he whispers into your ear, pointing at the card on the far left before you laid it down in front of the table as instructed.

"Three fours showing, and over here…" The recom named Prager slaps another card down face-up in front of you. "Still garbage, sorry sweets. Ace high." Grinning, he pushes three colorful plastic chips into a pile in the middle of table. "I bet three."

The rest of the group remains silent, save for the sound of grinding teeth and stressed sighs.

The nervous trembling of your thighs doesn’t let up when the next round of cards is handed out, so you reach for the can of oversized beer and gulp the rest of it down.

"Relax, buttercup," Lyle chuckles, his hand soothing over your thigh, "You need to work on hiding your tells. You don’t want us to loose, do you?"

"Yeah but ya’ gonna if she keeps that up, Wainfleet," another soldier laughs.

"Poor thing is shaking so much, you might as well bet her next to finally get a lucky streak."

Crimson red fills the apple of your cheeks, barely visible however under the alcohol-induced flush of your skin. But even though your senses are as if in daze and directed at what is happening in front you, you still got enough situational awareness to realise that there’s someone standing in the doorway watching with a tense jaw.

"You gotta be careful," that someone says, the words flowing like nothing ever has, making the hair rise on the nape of your neck. "Betting another man's things like that."

And it should bother you, how easily he can categorize you as one of his things, like a gun or whatever fucking possessions he had, but it doesn't, because you are his. Aren’t you?

"Ah, boss", Lyle laughs, and you may not be a marine or recombinant or anything of the sort, but you could tell that he was nervous. Silence bleeds over the rest of team Deja blue as the Colonel steps into the room, sending cards go flying as he yanks you up by your wrist and throws you over his shoulder like a dead deer. Prey.

You squeak once the room has turned upside down, hands instinctively reaching for the hem of your dress to keep it in place as soldiers ogled the way Quaritch was walking you out of the room without another word and marched down the hallway.

The amount of times you’ve found yourself in his room could be counted on one hand, you came to realize, once you’re thrown onto his bed, almost bouncing off the oversized mattress.

A finger is pointed at you, and shame and dread uncontrollably fill your eyes with tears that dare to spill over as Quaritch barks at you like he’s lecturing a child.

"You listen here very careful, kid", he’s damn near yelling, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

Kid.

Being now twenty-six years of age, you certainly took a degree of offense when a man his age still called you 'kid.' There wasn't much childish about you, never have been. Not in the last ten years, so there was no need for him to go running his mouths at you like you were twelve.

Balling your fists at your side, you barked right back at him, "I‘m not a child!"

For several seconds, there was nothing, and you wondered if you’d truly fucked up this time, and you don’t even dare to look up at the man towering over you like a mountain. That is, until the bed suddenly dips and a hand effortlessly closes around your wrist and manhandles you to bend over his lap.

You would squirm and fight and run if it weren't for the iron grip on your wrists, pinning them behind your back like the wings of a butterfly to a board.

"That’s right," he murmurs that part, but the rest comes out more sternly, "So quit actin‘ like one whenever something doesn’t go your way!"

The first blow of his hand descended onto your upturned ass comes so sudden and unexpected, sending you sliding forward over the muscular thigh you were bent over, that you couldn’t help but yelp, before you sucked in a sharp gasp of air as the sting spread through you. "What the— fuck!" You hissed. "What are you even talking about!?"

"What am I talking about?" Quaritch scoffs.

You barely forced yourself to relax when the next one came, making you jump, and duck your head down even lower in a vain attempt to scoot farther away from his hand.

"I can smell the liquor all over you, hun. And the way you were throwing yourself at these little creeps? Don’t act dumb with me. You and I both know damn well what you were trying to do here."

"Y-You’re imagining things!" You protest. Another slap, and this time you could feel the smooth fabric of your dress riding up, giving him unhindered access to the tender flesh beneath. "Fuck, that hurt, you–"

Blow after blow came over you, cutting off every complain and every thought that might’ve formed if you could concentrate enough, and you might have tried counting them but there were so many. Too many, and your ass was burning and suddenly you wanted nothing more than to say you were sorry, you'd never do it again, and maybe the Colonel would stop soon and you could just promise to be good—

But he didn't stop and you heard the smack again and one more landed, and god damn it really fucking hurt. You only realised you had started speaking aloud, babbling apologies and begging for it to stop when fingers ran over your panties, feeling for your throbbing clit beneath the thin fabric.

"Tell me, would you’ve spread your legs for them like you did for me? Thought you could just take what you want because I’m not giving it to you?"

One hand squeezed and molded a cheek, and you moaned as he groped the overly sensitive flesh. If you could gather enough strength to crane your neck and look at him, you would’ve caught the way his ears flicked at the sound of that.

Another slap, this time aimed a little lower, more gentle, with fingertips brushing over your folds at the impact and you let out another moan, less like a painful one and more in a way that was so unmistakable, that when you felt the thigh you laid on tense, you could only guess what was coming now.

"Does this turn you on, getting what you deserve?" Quaritch said lowly, the spanks stopping for a while in favor of torturing you with the barest of touches, rough fingertips flicking over that little bundle of nerves until you were whining and squirming.

"No," you then responded in a hushed whisper.

Pulling the fabric of your panties taunt, Miles gave you a mean wedgie as he inspected the wet patch forming right there. With a chuckle he told you, "you’re pretty little pussy is telling me otherwise."

"That’s– that’s not true!"

"Oh, it’s not? That means you did enjoy all this attention they gave you today, hm? You enjoyed having all these fuckers look at you like you’re candy they want to peel out of its wrapper?"

"I- No, I didn’t–"

Rough fingertips run up and down your slit, cutting you off mid sentence as you feel him pull your slip to the side.

"What were you even doing there?" His voice sounds calmer now, collected, as he thumbs your exposed clit.

"Was looking for you", you mumble, all fight gone the moment warm pleasure fills your veins the more he plays with you like this.

"For me?" Quaritch chuckles, brows raised high. "Why’s that?"

"You know why…" You groan when one of his digits that had been circling your entrance slides into you, painfully slow and teasing, just an inch before it slides out again.

"I do. But I want to hear you say it."

Biting your lip prevents you from giving in to his teasing, but it doesn’t help muffle the moan that’s slips out when he pushes back inside, letting you feel the stretch of your walls as they envelop not one, but two of his thick fingers.

"Missed me, hm?" He grins. You can’t see it from your position, but you can hear that shit eating grin in his voice. And then his fingers start to move. His palm smacks your ass with every thrust, fingers curling inside you to feel for that spongey little spot that made you gasp.

"C‘mon, say it."

He speeds up fast. Too fast for you to catch up with, forcing moans and wet squelching sounds out of you, until you huff out in frustration.

"Fuck, okay! Yes, I missed you." That one actually makes him laugh, enough for you to grind your teeth, turn your head and bark back at him, "And you’re an… you’re a jealous old man!"

"Yeah? That so?"

His eyes seem to pierce right through yours as he glances back at you, grin sharp and dangerous before he grabs you by the waist and spins you around so you’re pushed with your back against the mattress, instead of being uncomfortably bend over his thighs.

If there was one thing that was able to set the butterflies in your tummy alive and making them do little jumping jacks, it was the way Quaritch so easily manhandled you so you were bend like a pretzel, panty shoved down and over your ankles, who were now nearly touching your ears. It was harder to breathe like this, that was for sure. But you don’t mind the position one bit, especially with the view of him laying down flat on his stomach, head neatly nestled between your spread thighs as he admires the wet glossy look of your pussy just begging for him to finally fucking do something.

You had guys go down on you before. Two in total. And it wasn’t like they were necessarily bad at it, it was just that they apparently had learned one way to do it and then decided to stick with whatever that technique was called. And that’s when you decided that being on the receiving end of oral, it wasn’t really for you.

But with Quaritch, you knew from the very second the tip of his tongue parted your folds from your slit to your clit, that it was gonna be different.

It felt like the pleasure was shooting straight up your spine, making your back arch off the bed as he repeated the same motion once more, groaning when your slick juices hit his tastebuds.

"Holy shit", you let the words out in a shaky breath, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling above you.

"Eyes on me, cherry."

Glancing down on yourself, you catch the moment he spreads your folds with his thumbs to get better access to your clit that coyly peeks out from under its hood. Quaritch gives the little nub a teasing tap with his fingertip, and you both watch as a thin string of arousal and spit connect your clit with his finger before it breaks. Not even a split second later and he’s on you again.

You nearly choke on a moan when his lips close around your clit and sucks, his mouth halfway covering your whole cunt as he eats you out, tongue swirling around those sweet spots of yours. The noises he makes are wet, sloppy and so dirty, and it brings you to the edge of that pleasure high faster than you could process.

A hand reaches for his buzzed down hair as he gives you a filthy kiss right where you need it.

"Oh- Oh god, I think I’m gonna come", you moan as his hands slide up to hold you more open than you were before, so that he could taste you again and again, his tongue dipping deeper and deeper inside every time. Your hand curls tighter in his hair, tugging, and you worry for a moment that you were hurting him. Not that this was even possible. Still, you just couldn’t help it– touching him was the only thing anchoring you, as if you would float away and disappear if you‘d move your hands just an inch.

But Quaritch doesn't seem to mind, not if the way he groans, grinds his face against your pussy and thrusts his tongue deeper into you is anything to go by.

You could feel the pleasure growing inside you, in your toes and in your spine and behind your eyelids, and you arch against him, moaning at each touch of his tongue, his lips against your clit– sucking and slurping and kissing. It's building and you’re reaching for it, hips jerking violently as though to follow his mouth, and then you’re falling apart with a gasp that ebbs into a moan.

You don’t even hear yourself for the first couple of seconds, the blood rushing behind your ears drowning out the volume of your moans before your legs finally stop trembling and clenching around the head nestled between them.

Arms falling limp to your sides, you watch your own chest raising and falling in frantic pants. You’re spent and exhausted, truthfully. But you can’t help but notice that the wet glide of the Colonels tongue hasn’t stopped yet. It circles around your clit, not quite touching it, just teasing.

"Miles", you call for him, soft and quiet, voice hoarse from moaning. You’re not prepared for the sudden suction on raw nerves created by his puckered lips, and you cry out in surprise. Your legs twitch in overstimulation as he sucks and groans, the vibrations only adding further to the stimulation that quickly morphs from uncomfortable to pleasurable. "M-Miles, fuck! I- I can’t, wait!"

Your back nearly arches off the bed, if it weren’t for his his hands keeping you in place. It felt like his tongue was everywhere at once, licking every inch of your cunt, all those places that brought yet another orgasm rushing forward.

Unable to control the movements of your body, you pump your hips against his face as your stomach muscles clench and your head digs into the pillow underneath you.

"Can’t, I can’t", you mewl, "s‘too much!"

"No, you will take it", he says, barely lifting his head to speak and the air that blows out between his words send a full on body shiver through you. "You will take it because that’s what little sluts get. I‘m only giving you all this attention that you were seeking today and now you’re complaining?"

It takes a moment for you to find your voice.

"I‘m not- not a slut", you protest. Glancing down at Quaritchs face, his wet chin and lips slicked with you, his lips curl in diabolical pleasure.

"No? Then whose humping my face like this? Who’s been fucking dripping all over my thighs from being spanked, huh? Cherry, you are a little slut. A desperate one too."

His sharp tongue then flicks over your clit again, and you break into a thousand pieces. It feels so good you’re shaking, as red hot pleasure surges through your veins and clouds your vision. Your second orgasm ebbs away faster than the first, but is nonetheless as intense. The feel of sticky wet arousal soaking the sheets below you makes you cringe and you want to move away, but the iron grip he has on your thighs doesn’t falter. If anything, he just holds you more secure, pulls you closer, to press his tongue into you as far as it could reach.

"Oh god- please, I can’t!" You nearly sob, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes while Quaritch flattens his tongue to catch every droplet of slick running down your slit. "Give me a break!"

"One more," he purrs, dark and sinister, his sharp grin visible even as he peeks up from between your legs.

"I don’t know if I can," you whine, throwing your head back at the invitation of sensations that just don’t let up.

"You can and you will."

The pressure of his suction continues as he moves his tongue, trailing it along your lips and over to your clit again. He sucks the sensitive nub and then slides two fingers inside your body, curving them, increasing their pressure as your loud moans turn into screams.

Miles wraps his free arm around your waist, stilling your trembling hips and locking you in place. He increases the thrusts of his digits, rubbing intently against your walls as he sucks harder on your throbbing clit. He's determined to make you see stars and it’s for him to decide when this insanely pleasurable form of torture is finally over.

You could only hope, pray and moan to him, god or whoever– as you felt the beginning tremors of what you hoped would be your last orgasm for the night course through your body, and your legs clamp tightly, unable to withstand the sheer intensity of it.

Sensing the growing tension in your body, Miles suddenly pulls back, replacing his mouth with his thumb on your clit, stroking around the glands before touching it directly, causing you to cry out.

He grins, catching his breath, and then continues his assault on your body until you’re past the point of return, walls clenching around his fingers and thighs pressed firmly to his shoulders, framing his head.

It’s heat against heat, hot tongue against hotter folds, and you throw your head back and sob with relief. It’s good, really good— his tongue is long enough so that when he laps at you he hits your clit on the upswing every time. Your hips buck once its too much, his tongue nearly rubbing you raw but he holds you down and then it becomes just right as you fall apart with a cry.

It takes several minutes for your senses to come back together, regain your vision and hearing, and when you blink your sore eyes open, you’re met with Quaritch‘s, just as he’s finishing leaving a final mark on your inner thigh. His teeth have left a purplish imprint on your soft skin and he grins at you.

"You’re mine. Never forget that."

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saerins · 1 year

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─── 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 1.6k

notes: this man is taking over my life >:( if anyone knows how to get over him pls let me know i hate him <3

summary: nothing’s necessary except his talent in soccer, until you appeared. and now, he’s got a new challenge.

itoshi sae is great with soccer—anything that involves him on the pitch, he’ll ace it. he excels at everything he learns on the field, easy as pie.

he’s never really bothered to try to be good at anything else.

as his girlfriend, you know this. you’ve seen him perform and it makes you wonder why someone like him is even with you.

but that makes it especially funny in times like this, when you see him staring at his laundry in shock because his whites turned pink.

“what the fuck?” he’s mumbling to himself, and you’re trying not to snicker from his living room, pressing your lips together.

it’s also funny when you hear him groaning from the kitchen, making you switch your camera off as you play hooky from your lecture and tiptoe out to see what happened.

you wonder how much you’d get if you photographed him right now, staring panickedly at his frying pan, his grilled chicken burnt to a crisp.

sometimes you can’t hold in your laughter, like right now, and sae whips his head around to glare at you.

“you know, i can cook dinner if you want,” you offer him.

sae scoffs, waving you away, “i can do it. just go back to your lecture.”

he’s stubborn, and you think that’s adorable, so you leave him to it.

you ate very tough skinless chicken that night. you told him it’s not bad, just to spare his feelings.

“you’re really quite hopeless with all of this,” you mumble absentmindedly as you look at your white dress shirt, a hole in the shoulder blade.

“shut up, i’ll get you a new one,” sae grumbles, grabbing it from you and tossing it in the bin.

it’s really quite cute how he tries to help with your chores, especially when he found out how swamped you are with finals and your part-time job as a receptionist at a big shot law firm. sae can be thoughtful when he tries to be.

sure, he ends up being more trouble than help, but you’re kind of entertained by his fuck ups so you let him be. it’s part of his many charms; he is an absolute beast on the field, but he’s like a child outside of it. he’s grumpy and stubborn and such a baby. you’re wondering if he can ever live alone because of it.

“here, wear mine,” sae says, offering you his white button down shirt instead.

you weren’t exactly living together, but you stay over sometimes, and most times he’s the one staying over, only because your apartment is more well-equipped for day to day life.

and by that you mean that, at the very least, your fridge is well stocked, vegetables and meat and whatnot, and you have detergents and bathing necessities and everything a guest could possibly need.

meanwhile, even if sae’s apartment is ten times more beautiful and luxurious than yours, his fridge is empty because he always orders takeout without you around, and he only has just enough supplies for himself. which isn’t a crime, but obviously he hasn’t had much of his past girlfriends staying over because he got stressed that one time he had to buy you pads and tampons.

you smile to yourself when you remember how panicked he was while he was at the feminine care aisle in the supermarket, rambling on and on about how people are staring at him because he kept taking all the different brands because he doesn’t know what the fuck you like.

he ended up giving up and getting one of each, and you’re greeted by one of his fanpages on instagram posting about it, a sighting by one of their followers coupled with a picture of sae trying to hide in the hood of his jacket, face beet red while the cashier processed his entire basket of tampons.

now his house has a whole year’s worth of tampon supply.

that was also the night where everyone found out he had a girlfriend.

“you wanna head out for dinner later?” you ask him as you button up his shirt on yourself.

sae drags his eyes over your body. you look good in his shirt, he should let you wear his stuff more often. but you turn his way and he averts his gaze just in time.

“sure, you end at 8?”

you nod.

“fine, i’ll pick you up later,” sae says and shoos you out the door. he glances at the clock on your wall.

3pm. he has about four hours to settle this.

you find sae parked outside the lobby when you end your shift.

“have fun with your dreamy boyfriend,” the other receptionist coos, shooting you a knowing look before she walks off with a wink.

you bid her goodbye and then turn your attention back to your boyfriend, who’s so busy with his phone that he doesn’t even notice you coming.

if someone were to tell the old you that you and sae would turn out to be lovers in the future, you’d have laughed your ass off. he used to be nothing more than someone you used to watch at soccer matches, just some guy who seemed to live in such a different world than yours that you never imagined you’d ever get together with him.

who knew that a single conversation you had with him at the age of seventeen could’ve spurred you to where you are now, age twenty-one and still very much in love with each other?

maybe you should’ve flirted with sae sooner. maybe you should’ve annoyed the shit out of him and made him notice you more before that night.

but you’re not complaining—you’re happy with where you are right now.

you’re getting good grades at school, your employers are very satisfied with you and would offer you a permanent position there any time, and you have a wonderful boyfriend, even if he is surly and inexpressive most of the time.

“hey there,” you greet as you get into his car, and sae gets spooked so much he drops his phone on the ground. again, one of his many charming qualities. you note how he hates horror, the complete opposite of his brother.

sae’s ears turn red from embarrassment, but he picks his phone off the ground and drives off, a hand on the steering wheel and his other hand on your thigh.

“were you busy earlier?” you ask sae once you’re both halfway into dinner, suddenly remembering how he chased you out of the house.

sae cocks his brow, “not really, just had a meeting.”

“oh, with who?”

you’re wondering whether it was with his manager, maybe there’s more sponsorship deals for him. or maybe it was with his coach, about soccer stuff you wouldn’t understand.

“your parents,” he says, so nonchalantly you almost think he’s kidding.

“wait, baby what?”

sae’s eyes flick up from his dinner to you, long lashes framing those pretty teal eyes. his hair looks so soft you kind of want to run your hands through them, but you tell yourself to focus now.

“they just wanted to talk to me because i sent them an alarming text,” he says, not so helpfully because he doesn’t elaborate further. plus, the fact that his face is as stoic as ever doesn’t alleviate your worries that it’s something bad.

“what did you tell them?”

sae’s expression doesn’t change. “secret.”

“babe, you’re killing me.”

sae sighs, his hand in yours as the both of you walk back to your apartment. “the last thing i would do is kill you,” he says, fumbling for his copy of the keys to your apartment. “who’s gonna do my laundry for me then?”

you slap him on his arm, getting to hear him snicker for the first time tonight. he unlocks your door and lets you walk in first, and the moment you do, you’re frozen in position.

there’s rose petals on the floor, scattered around the living room. there’s photos hanging off of delicately strung ropes, all photos of you and sae. photos of the both of you the first time you spoke on the pitch, photos of you meeting his parents and brother, photos of your first couples trip to europe. your coffee table has become a makeshift photo spread, even more photos spread out on it.

“w-what’s all this?” it comes out as a whisper, but sae hears you.

you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind, a pair of lips pressing a kiss onto your temple. “i love you, y/n,” he whispers, and you think you’re dreaming because he rarely ever says it, he’s more the kind of person that shows it.

but in this moment, it’s both. and you’re overwhelmed, in a good way.

itoshi sae is great with soccer, and he’s never felt the need to even try and be good at anything else. but not now, not anymore.

when you turn around, sae is on one knee, a beautiful bright diamond ring sitting in a velvet box on his palm.

“marry me, y/n,” sae asks, in a very sae-like manner. like he knows your answer and he’s cutting to the chase.

you tell him yes anyway, because there’s no way you’d ever say no.

that night as the both of you lay in your bed, nervous fingers twiddling with each other’s, each of you looking into the other’s eyes, sae’s decided on his life mission.

sure, he’s probably a pain in your ass when it comes to household chores. but he’ll learn. he’s also probably insufferable when he’s being stubborn, but he’d never want to be someone else’s problem.

for you, he’d do anything. for you, he’d put everything else second. for you, he’s going to be the best husband there ever was.

#bllk x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi x y/n #sae x you #sae x y/n #bllk sae x reader #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #itoshi sae fluff #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #sae itoshi fluff #૪ aeri’s fics !

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bimbobaggins69 · 1 year

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Fooled round & fell in love

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: you’re in love with your best friend but your best friend thinks love is for losers, choosing to sleep around rather than settle down. You’ve had enough and you’re ready to move on from your feelings, luckily you find someone who might make that possible but does Eddie really hate love as much as he leads on?

warnings: fuck boy eddie, afab reader, cursing, eventual smut, might drag this friends to lovers thing out as much as I can or maybe reader will end up with Randy, who knows?

A/N: this is my first fic ever so be nice 🥹👉🏻👈🏻please reblog and comment it would mean everything to me. Also, got the idea of Randy’s name from randy rhoads 🖤

Thank you @myobmaya for reading this and giving me tips before posting.

“Oh my god! Fuck, I’m so sorry!” You screeched out over the loud music playing in your best friends van.

You slammed the door, still trying to take in what you had just seen, tears forming in your eyes and that familiar feeling of jealousy twisting at your insides. You decide to not torture yourself any longer and instead of going back in to the seedy bar with the rest of your friends you start your long stride home, unlucky for you, your walk is accompanied by racing thoughts of your best friend on top of some groupie. You’re not stupid, you know Eddie is a slut, he all but brags to you about his recent conquests, but you’ve never been faced with it like this, and even though you’re hopelessly in love with him, you can’t help but feel guilty for your feelings.

You and Eddie have been best friends since middle school when he was awkward and had that damn buzz cut. You had fallen in love with him sophomore year, you two had been almost inseparable but at that time he was also gaining a bit of a reputation as a “man whore” if you will

he enjoyed sleeping with different girls but always insisted love and relationships just weren’t for him, so of course you would do everything you could to hide your feelings, last thing you would want to do is fuck up your friendship and you’ve made yourself believe having Eddie in your life in any form is enough, but you’re not so sure about that anymore.

After making your way home from the hideout you decide you need a shower and some sleep, and to just forget about all this bullshit that won’t stop swirling around in your head. But of course not even a hot shower can help you cleanse your mind of that picture. You tell yourself you have no right to be jealous or angry, you’re not his girlfriend and never will be, but it still hurts.

After your shower you throw on some pajamas, brush your hair, put your Rainbow tape in your Walkman and blast stargazer until you drifted off to sleep.

It’s been two days since you talked to Eddie which wasn’t completely out of the norm being that you’ve graduated and it’s summer you don’t see him regularly like you’re use to but this is the longest you’ve gone without hearing his voice as you usually talk to him nightly on the phone. He’s called a few times but you had your mom tell him you weren’t home. You just can’t deal with any of it right now and you know if you see him you’ll let your feelings for him slip and mess up everything. So for now you’re sitting in bed listening to music, all you wanna do at the moment is get high and forget these feelings you can’t seem to shake but you usually get your weed from Eddie and that’s just not an option at the moment, as you physically shake that idea from your head, you remember someone else that can help supply you with what you need.

As you walk up to the front door of the familiar house you’ve come to many times as Eddie re-upped on his supply.

You take a deep breathe before you knock, a little uncomfortable given the fact that every time you did come with Eddie, Rick insisted on being flirty and a little handsy with you, but you were desperate for something to just ease your mind and relax you.

After three tentative knocks the door swings open.

“Y/n?” “Long time no see, what can I do for you?”

He looks around behind you, you think he’s probably looking for Eddie since you’ve never come here alone but you don’t give it a second thought.

You walk in and notice a couple guys sitting at the dining room table probably doing a quick deal too, you recognize them from school but they had long graduated before you. One of them catches your eye, you’ve definitely seen him around, he’s got long blonde curly hair, an Angel Witch band tee on, some dark blue jeans and high top adidas. Of course you’re fawning over another metal head “what the fuck is wrong with me?” You think to yourself. But before you give it anymore thought the man turns to you and says

“hey, aren’t you Eddie’s girl?”

You physically cringe at that.

“Um, n-no I’m not, w-we’re just friends”

“Really fucking smooth!” You internally scream at yourself.

He flashes you the most beautiful smile that makes your stomach flutter

“Oh! Good, good”

You’re kind of confused with that because, why is that good? But you don’t question it.

After Rick hands you your dime bag and you hand him the money you give a quick “thanks” as you turn around and walk out the door shutting it and walking down the drive way

when you get halfway down, you hear the door open and someone call your name.

“Hey, Y/n!”

You turn around to see that same beautiful smile that makes his eyes slant a bit, you swear this man could be Robert Plant and Dave mustaine’s love child “god was he gorgeous” you thought.

You raise your eyebrows as they disappear behind your bangs with a small wave and a side smile, could you be anymore awkward?

He puts his hand out and says “I’m Randy”

You already knew his name as he was three grades above you at Hawkins, but he’s definitely gotten a lot hotter after high school.

You smile and say “yeah we went to Hawkins together, but you were a senior when I was a freshman.”

He nods “yeah, yeah I know, just wasn’t sure if you did. So anyways, I was wondering if I could get your number and maybe we could hang out sometime?”

You return the wide smile as you try your best to stay calm and collected “y-yeah, that would be cool, but I don’t have a pen.” You say with slight disappointment

“Oh shit, um I think I have one in my car” He says as he turns around heading to the red Pontiac firebird, your jaw drops for a second because holy shit, his car is almost as sexy as him!

He turns around shaking the pen in his hand, like he’s just won some kind of prize, that makes you chuckle a bit.

He hands you the pen and his arm for you to scribble your number on, when you’re finished you give him a flirty little smirk as you say “I’ll talk to you later”

You turn around to start your way back home, but as you start he stops you again.

“Did you walk here?”

You nod

“Yeah, but it’s no big deal, I don’t live too far.”

He looks you up and down and then shakes his head “Get in, I’ll give you a ride.”

“You really don’t have to” you spit out

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to” he says while nodding his head over to his car silently telling you to get in.

You decide the best way to get over Eddie is by spending time with someone new, okay maybe not the most logical idea but anything’s better than being alone with your thoughts at the moment

and Randy seemed sweet and charming, possibly the perfect enough candidate to help you move on.

It’s been two weeks and you’ve successfully avoided Eddie Munson at all costs. He’s called, he’s dropped by your house and you’ve had your mom consistently tell him you just haven’t been home much lately. Half of that is true.

You’ve been on three dates with Randy so far, and you really hit it off, he’s really sweet, and super funny but that little nagging in your brain keeps telling you “he’s not Eddie!” and “he’ll never be Eddie!” You can’t help it you’ve been in love with him for 3 and half years now, and you’re only human

but you think you can learn to fall for Randy and maybe even eventually those feelings will over shadow the ones you have for Eddie

only time will tell, but for now you just want to have fun.

So here you are getting ready for a party Randy had invited you to, it was a mutual friend of Randy and Ricks so you knew there was a strong possibility Eddie would also be there as he never turned down an opportunity to get some fast cash.

You decided you wanted to look hot, hotter than hot! So you threw on something you never had the balls to leave the house in, a long bell sleeved shirt that tied in the front exposing lots of skin, you paired it with a black pleated skirt and some black thigh high socks and some chunky ankle boots. You did your makeup natural but with some winged liner and lashes, you took your hair out of the curlers and shook your head upside down a couple times trying to elicit the most amount of body before spraying it with hairspray and finally spritzing yourself with some perfume.

You never went out of your way to get yourself this ready, but you loved it, made you feel kind of empowered in a way.

By the time you were fully finished getting ready you heard a knock at the door and since no one was home you rushed downstairs to answer it, but it was not who you were expecting.

“Y/N?!” Eddie said while looking you up and down with an unreadable expression on his face

“Eddie? What are you doing here?”

You asked wide eyed and with a slight annoyed edge to your voice

“You’ve been avoiding me!”

He says while pushing his way inside your house

“I haven’t been avoiding you, I’ve been busy”

A little lie, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Busy doing what?” He looks you up and down again

“I’ve been seeing someone, and we’ve been hanging out a lot recently, he’s actually on his way here right now, so you should probably go”

Eddie looks like a kicked puppy for a quick second but tries to fight it off before you can see by putting on a fake smile

“Oh yeah? Who’s the lucky guy?”

As soon as those words leave his mouth you hear a car pull up in your driveway, you know it’s Randy and you really wanted to avoid this whole interaction for a little bit longer, but it was no use now.

You ignore Eddie and decide to just let him see who it is for himself. Eddie knew who Randy was, they were acquaintance’s at best, but never enough to call each other friends, plus Randy was older and cooler than Eddie, or atleast that’s how Eddie felt.

So when he finally knocked on the door and you answered it, he stood there with flowers in hand looking at you all bug eyed, taking you all in with his mouth hanging open. Eddie let out a low scoff, almost low enough for you not to catch but you did.

If you would’ve let yourself you would’ve overthought that scoff until your head hurt

Because what the hell is his problem? he has no reason to feel any type of way about anyone you choose to talk to, after you’ve sat back and heard him talk about girl after girl, he had no right to say anything about Randy!

“Hey Eddie, what’s up?” Randy says

Eddie just tilts his head up slightly to give him a silent “what’s up” and then turns his attention back on you

But you turn around taking the flowers out of Randy’s hand and giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“These are beautiful, babe! Thank you”

Eddie visibly cringes at the pet name.

You didn’t see it but Randy definitely did, so just to rile him up a bit more Randy tells you

“You look fucking incredible, baby! Maybe we should just skip the party and go back to my place?”

He says with a joking edge to his voice. You and Randy have gone to second base but have not gone all the way yet and you were maybe hoping tonight would be the night

You really just wanted to get over Eddie and you thought by sleeping with Randy you’d have a better chance, so you and him have talked about it and even had phone sex a couple nights ago, so what he said wasn’t completely out of left field but it made you feel weird him saying it in front of Eddie, even though you literally walked in on Eddie and some girl fucking a couple weeks ago.

God you’ve done everything you can to get that image out of your head, just for it to be brought right back

“But I’m really excited for the party!” You say with your best doe eyes.

“Oh you guys are going to Eric’s party?” Eddie interrupts while standing there looking rather awkward

“Yeah we are, are you?” You ask

“Um, yeah I was gunna stop buy for an hour or so just to sell, make some quick cash, ya know?”

Eddie says while scratching the back of his neck

You nod.

“Well I guess we’ll see you there” Randy says trying to end the weird tension.

Eddie looks at you one last time with the same expression as earlier, almost like longing mixed with a hint of jealousy. But you’re a chronic over thinker and professional self doubter so that’s probably not it at all.

part 2

#eddie munson angst #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x you

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cursingtoji · 8 months

Text

ᥫ᭡ — EXECUTIVE AFFAIRS: In a cutthroat world of boardroom battles and power struggles, you must navigate ambition , corporate intrigue, and unexpected love affairs.

✧ PRELUDE

— contents: CEO!reader, construction worker!Toji, lawyer!Nanami, therapist!Geto, ex-husband!Gojo; power imbalance, sexual frustration, manipulation, use of 'darling', 'baby', 'dear' & 'boss', 4k words, on-going series

— note: osha is the occupational safety and health administration agency in the USA, even tho i'm not american seems easier to just say osha (also a fun word to pronunce)

A young man opens the rear door of the Jaguar as soon as your driver stops by the construction site, “This way ma’am” you accept his hand, touching the cement with your stiletto first before getting out of the vehicle.

As scheduled you are heading to a meeting with the architect responsible for this particular project, a big one. Normally the CEO wouldn’t be involved in such routine visits like this, but you definitely don’t want to be like the previous CEO, who barely stepped out of his office for anything.

Besides, you have to make a good impression with the other directors that would be there today as well, and what better way to do that if not going to the construction site yourself, even though you clearly do not belong there given the way your heel wobbled as soon as it touched the uneven ground.

“Excuse me, miss” you’re stopped by a man twice your size — horizontally and almost vertically — extending a white helmet in your direction, “I’m sure that hair costed a lot and you don’t wanna cover it, but every person on site, even the ladies, ‘gotta wear it.”

You stand a bit shocked at the man addressing you like it’s not your last name on his uniform.

“Mr. Fushiguro, I should inform you that it’s your CEO you’re talking to” the boy beside you speaks up, he’s wearing a white helmet and the unknown man a yellow one.

“Great, so you are able to afford the OSHA fine if they decide today is a good day for inspection, but I’d rather not have another pointless safety training just ‘cause no one had the balls to tell you to protect your pretty ‘lil head” his expression doesn’t change a bit with the new information. You find that respectable, especially having so many people stuttering when talking to you.

If you were to say that you don’t get even a little bit amused by people being nervous in your presence Nanami would have to warn you about perjury.

It’s quite a change to have a blue collar employee sticking to the rules and not batting an eye when the highest possible authority of the company is standing right in front of him, especially when that someone looks like he just got out of a sexy construction men calendar… not that you have ever seen one of those. That’s just what you think they might look like, plus that scar only adds up to fantasy.

You clean your throat, “I appreciate your work ethic, Mr. Fushiguro” you repeat the name so you won’t forget, “I wasn’t aware of the rules” you side-look the young man beside you who’s now staring at his own feet embarrassed since it was his duty to inform you.

“Call me Toji” you take the helmet and put it on, “By the way, you’re supposed to wear trousers too and… literally anything but that” he points with his chin to your high heels thinking how that alone was a safety hazard not just on a construction site. Toji leans closer “but I’ll let it slide, ‘cause you have quite beautiful legs.”

You are left mouth agape, internally appreciating that he didn’t say that out loud — after all being sexualized when you are trying to impose respect would require you to put a show and fire the man — but also makes you question if he was straight forward with you because of his work ethics or because he does not respect you as his superior.

Not that you wouldn’t let him do disrespectful things to you, but still!

You’re taken to where the rest of the directors are, they’re easy to spot — a bunch of men in suits that clearly don’t belong to the place — surrounding a table with the blue prints. They greet you and you realize this is the first time you see all of them around a table and not sitting, poor guys must be dying for a room with AC right now.

It’s not like you belonged there either, with your tailor made beige suit that had a pencil skirt instead of the newly-discovered-necessary trousers and how-the-fuck-you-thought-that-was-a-good-idea high heels. But in your own defense you did visit a lot of construction sites when you first started at the company all those years ago and that’s much more than the white collar men in front of you can say.

The main architect starts to give you all an status of the project being interrupted by the senior engineer every few minutes, the last one clearly thinking he’s better than the first even though neither of them lifts a finger in this ground.

Your sight is drawn to the man that scolded you before, while the architect is pointing to something on top of the construction and everyone else is shielding their eyes from the sun to find it, you’re looking straight ahead to Toji who’s currently lifting an apparently very heavy sack of cement on his shoulder and taking it all across the site. God, he’s strong.

His handsome face shines with sweat, you’re sure the wife beater he has on also violates some OSHA code, but who would be crazy enough to report that? Not you for sure, the view is worth the OSHA fine.

Especially when he drops the sack with a grunt and uses the shirt to wipe his face, revealing a torso you’re sure Michelangelo would die to use as inspiration to sculpt into marble then having people saying ‘whoa that’s real art’.

You wonder if someone would scream at you for touching that piece of art.

Unfortunately you don’t expect to get caught ogling by the subject himself. So the best thing you can do is find whatever the architect is pointing to and pretend to pay attention like you should have from the beginning instead of eye fucking one of your employees.

“Hey, boss” you hear on your way out of the site and back to your cozy office where you wouldn’t get your ankle broken that easily. You turn around and see Toji catwalking his way to you.

“Technically I'm out of the hazard zone, mr. Fushiguro” you justify your lack of a helmet which you ditched a few seconds ago.

“Toji” he corrects you, taking his own helmet off “and I’m not this uptight, unlike some people here today” he mutters the last part looking behind him to some of the directors that seemed to be looking for tiny errors on the project so they could fix it and justify being there.

“Well, what can I do for you?”

“I’m pretty sure you're being robbed.”

“What?” you look around, “What do you mean?”

“You’re paying for double the stuff that’s actually being delivered” he took a sheet of folded paper out of his pants, you reach for it but he pulls it back, “I have proof and I can say names.”

“Did you say that to your field supervisor?”

“Please, who do ya think it’s signin’ under this?” he rolls his eyes.

“So you came to the CEO instead? You’re going behind some big backs here, sir.”

“Look, miss, I want a promotion, I know a lot of big shots will go down for this and I’m the only one capable of handling the people here. Besides I stand by what I said before, no one has the guts to do this so I’m taking a big risk and I deserve compensation” he hands back the paper and this time he let you take it. You stare into his deep green eyes suspiciously, the man has the looks of a fantasy villain with his sharp features and dark eyelashes, you're not entirely sure if you should believe him.

“Give your number to my assistant, we’ll schedule a meeting in the office, you tell me everything you know and I see what I can do about it.”

“In the office? Didn’t know you allowed commonores in your castle” he smirks.

“Only the pretty ones” you wink and his smile grows wider.

“How long have you known about this?” Nanami questions.

“Not even 24 hours” you sit on your white couch signing for him to take the seat in front of you.

Your lawyer does that thing you find really hot where he unbuttons the coat of his five digit worth suit before sitting down. You admire Nanami’s elegance while he roams his eyes through the paper, he has a vest between the coat and the dress shirt. Navy blue suits him so well, matches his eyes. He makes you think every man should wear vests, but of course not every man can pull it off. Honestly, you find it hard to believe there's anything Nanami can’t pull off, but you haven't seen your lawyer without a suit… ever.

Maybe he looks bad with a plain T-shirt?

No way.

Perhaps with an overall and cowboy hat?

Mmm the image makes you wanna ride something.

What about emo hair, eyeliner and a band tee?

No, you can’t imagine Kento with emo hair, no chance he had a rebellious phase except if his parents wanted him to be a surgeon and he became the best lawyer in the city just to piss them off.

“I’m glad you came to me first, but we’ll need to involve auditing and probably internal affairs. That’ll probably put the project on hold for some weeks, also I’ll need more evidence than this” he shook the one paper sheet that was merely a quotation of supplies even you could understand is way too much for a single building.

“I got the guy for that, say the word and Yuuta will arrange a meeting” you pointed to your assistant sitting outside.

“Tell me, dear” he put the sheet aside, taking that posture that intimidated you a bit, “A blue collar worker just saw your pretty self on the site and handed criminal evidence? Just like that?”

You open your mouth, thinking what to say that won’t sound like you are being taken advantage of, and failing.

“Oh darling” he says a bit too condescendingly for someone that technically works for you, “Thought I told you about being too naive” he leans on the couch, making himself comfortable like you’re about to have The Talk.

“Kento, is not like that” you cross your arms defensively, “He said he wants a promotion, how risky that would be?”

“Thought you would say that” he takes his phone and hands it to you, “So I did my own little research.”

“What’s this?” you find yourself looking at a picture of the man you met yesterday.

Only now you could see tiny numbers behind him indicating his height and he held a plaque with his name. He looks way younger, still very handsome, you wonder how popular he used to be in his youth, with a face like that and the implication he was arrested was enough to make every girl’s bad-boy-dream come true.

“What was he accused of?” you ask out of curiosity.

“Not relevant, also sealed records” he breaks eye contact and that’s enough for you to understand he actually knows it and he did not get this information by any legal means.

“So what? The man got a bit of trouble with the law when he was young” you shrug, remembering even your ex husband had a little rich boy “criminal” file, if you can even call the dumb shit he did outta spite for his parents an actual crime.

“HR will find out about this, then you’re going to have to justify why you’re recommending a filled man for a managing position.”

“And I’ll tell them he actually found out about a theft scheme and whatever public-pissing crime he did will surely be overlooked.”

“Darling, you have to start thinking about your image, we’ve been through that before” he tilts his head.

“You don’t like my image?” you question playfully twirling your hair, Nanami smiles for a brief second.

“You know what I mean: your image towards the board, you barely made the votes necessary to be where you are today.”

Indeed, you owned the company and no one could take that away, but the CEO position needed to be voted and you only got the necessary votes because your ex-husband had the strongest voting rights and part of the divorce agreement was that he voted for you, so his, plus a few more other members of the board's votes and you made chief executive officer.

“Fine, then write a contract, he tells everything including testify if he has to in exchange of the supervisor position and I’ll pitch it to the board before any decisions are made” you uncross your arms raising from your seat.

Bringing the board into the conversation made you nervous, most of them don't like you and you’ve been trying to prove yourself for months. Even though you worked your ass off way before marrying the owner all they saw was a hurt ex-wife making pretend.

“Atta girl” Nanami raises too, buttoning his coat back and placing his hands on your tense shoulders. Nanami smells like what you think it should be every handsome lawyer's trademark scent, cause damn that smell would make you sign anything he gives you.

“Don’t worry much, you’re doing great” he presses a bit and you melt.

“Take me out to lunch?” you pout.

“I would love to” he lets go of your shoulder, “Unfortunately I have a hearing, but I'll be back for that meeting soon, okay?”

You sigh in defeat, getting even a few minutes of Nanami’s time for yourself is as hard as it can get, only a corruption scheme to get him to come to your office in such short notice.

“Ma’am” Yuuta says from the speakerphone, “Your ex-husband is calling” you groan, throwing your head back.

Of course he would want to interrupt your moment with Nanami.

“I can get you a restriction order” your lawyer offers jokily (or not).

Aside from being the company's lawyer, Nanami Kento was also your divorce attorney, which you managed to get only after agreeing to give him your company's account if he managed to land you the CEO position. Like everything in this merciless corporate world, it was give and take, you got what you wanted – not surprisingly so, afterall Nanami, even though is not a divorce specialist, is the best. Still, you like to think of him being more than another contractor of yours.

“I appreciate the offering” you smile tiredly, Nanami kisses your hand like the gentleman he is before leaving your office, “Yuuta, I’ll take him– it. I’ll take the call” you sit back behind your desk massaging your temple “Put him through.”

“Hello, beautiful” he greets over the speakerphone in that always so cheerful tone.

“Satoru, what do you want?”

“No chit-chat? It’s the least you could do for me after I gave you the company” entitled as always…

“You didn’t give it to me, you gave it up for the rest of your assets” you remind, already sick of this same discussion over and over.

When the divorce was officially on the table you told Kento exactly what you wanted: the company. The one thing you knew your ex husband would hate to lose, but also didn’t love as much as his lifestyle – which would be brutally affected if you decided to go for the 50% you were entitled to.

So through a carefully written agreement you accepted way less than you were owed in the form of full ownership of the respected construction company and title of chief executive officer.

“Six of one, half a dozen of the other. How have you been?”

“Fine. Just tell me what you want, I actually take this job seriously and have important things to do.”

Oh god, he would tease you so bad if he knew about the corruption scheme, and the worst part is that, eventually, he will know. Gojo has ears everywhere around here.

“Nanami” he says simply. You start to look around your office, wondering if he has cameras there.

“You… want… Nanami?”

“Yes, beautiful” he confirms slowly like he's talking to a kid that has just learned the alphabet.

“Why? You know what? Nevermind, I don't want to know. No, you can’t have him” you lean on your chair, denying Gojo gives you great satisfaction.

“It’s not for any bullshit reason, alright?”

“I don’t care, Satoru. Besides, I don’t own Kento, you can approach him anytime” you smile knowing he would never be able to do that without you.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart?” condescension drips from your phone and onto your desk, “He won’t represent me even if I run for president.”

“So you need legal representation? You’re not calling me from jail, are you Satoru?” you mirror his condescending tone, surely he can hear the smile in your voice.

“Thought you didn't care, or would you bail me out? Oh wait, I forgot, you don’t have the money for that” he laughs, arguing was never a thing with him, he would mock you and find a way to make you doubt your accusations. Gaslighting is it? “I’ll give it a shot, just so you know, but this is a great opportunity for you to ask something in return.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“Think about it, baby, I’m sure there's plenty of things I can do for you” his tone is lower, more seductive.

“Doubt it” you roll your eyes hearing his chuckle.

“Yeah? When was the last time you had–”

You hang up.

Then sigh loudly and press the button to talk to Yuuta.

“Yes, ma’am?” you scrunch your nose, still not used to being called that, Nanami said you should let your sweet assistant call you ma'am or madam at least in front of others since you could use the recognition of your authority.

“Please put Geto on the line.”

“Certainly” you wait, stepping out of your heels and digging your toes on the fluff carpet under the table.

“Hi, doc” you salute your psychologist.

“Sugar, I told you there’s no need to address me like that, hurts my feelings” his honeyed voice is everything you need to hear in such stressful times.

“It does? Maybe you should see a therapist to talk about that, I have a great recommendation” you can’t help but smile like a little girl when talking to him, being playful is a way to cope with your harmless crush.

“Just great?”

“He’s the best, I can assure you” he laughs, “Do you have a few minutes?”

“For you, absolutely” your face warms up then you remember the subject of the call and cools down again.

“It’s Satoru.”

‘It’s always Satoru’ Geto thinks.

“He just called wanting something, I told him no and he made that same old joke about me not having money” you huffed.

“And how do you feel about that?”

“Helpless? I don't know, he must think I’m poor now or something” which is ridiculous, you’re not nearly close to his patrimony as you used to when you were married but what you have is still fuckload more than what it takes to be considered poor.

“He’s trying to remind you of what you lost when you left him, this is just another manipulation technique, my love. Don’t let him get in your head” you need this as a mantra to hear every time your ex-husband calls, “Did he bring up sex this time?”

“No, but he was about to.”

“And what did you say?”

“Hanged up” you hear him snorting.

“Well, that can work on the phone, but what if you were talking face to face? What would you have done?”

Geto knows a lot about you. Obviously since you pay him to listen while you ramble and complain. Still, feels overwhelming having someone recalling your previous actions, especially the ones you're not exactly proud of.

“Tell him to shut up, throw a stapler on him, call security, threaten him with a restriction order.”

“Would you really?” Geto likes to take a joke you make and dig on that.

“Well, probably not the last two…”

“Have you been looking up restriction orders?”

“No, that was a joke my lawyer made early. A restriction order would be too… bureaucratic? Also unnecessary, afterall Satoru he never physically hurt me or threatened to.”

“That would be a good way of making him leave you alone for a while since you're not able to fully detach from him” you sat up.

“That's not true! I’ve been doing everything by myself lately, don't even have time to think about him! I’m detached, doc.”

“Wanna know what I think you would have done if he made that sexual comment face to face with you?” you gulp and Geto takes your silence as consent to continue, “I think you would let him go forward with it.”

You make an offended sound but don't fight his statement, “And what would happen next?” he tones the question like a professor trying to make the class complete a sentence, you keep your head down and mouth shut, “You would’ve let him sweet talk you into sleeping with him again.”

“You don't know that” you murmur.

“It’s a pattern, love. This is how abusive husbands keep their wives from leaving them or even telling anyone about the abuse. They use sex to make them think how good it is to be with them despite everything else.”

“Satoru was not abusive.” you defend your ex-husband firmly, “And I already left him!” you defend yourself less firmly.

“And he still thinks he can have you back! You know why?”

“Because I’m a catch that he shouldn’t have cheated?” Geto stays quiet for a few seconds and you feel a lump in your throat forming. The comment was supposed to sound more like a joke but you're still too hurt for that , clearly.

“That as well, but you really think he regrets it?”

“He seemed pretty sorry in the divorce mediation” you murmur recalling his lost-puppy expression.

“The meeting where he signed a paper that would make him lose his company and his wife? Gee I wonder why” the little sarcastic remark made you smile and shake your head, your psychologist using sarcasm against you is quite funny, “My point is, if you really want to be independent from him you ‘gotta stop letting yourself be attracted back like a magnet” you let his words sink in hearing some papers being ruffled on his side.

“I’m giving you homework.”

“Oh no…”

“Find your sexuality by yourself, you can watch porn, masturbate or even better: have sex with someone. Anyone but Satoru, because right now that’s what he’s using to control you.”

“Geto, I don’t know about this. Porn is too gross, masturbation is too ineffective and sex is too…” you trail off.

“Vulnerable?” he completes.

“I guess…”

“It’s been a few months since you last slept with Satoru, right? What’re you feeling?”

“What do you mean?” you rub your face.

“You know what I mean” he's strict and you let out a long sigh.

“I feel frustrated, sometimes stressed and distracted” all caused by the men you have to deal with including the handsome psychologist putting some sense in you. Not exactly what you wanted him to put in, but oh well…

“Exactly, in your current state it’s only a matter of time until you end up on his bed. You gotta decide if you are willing to: find porn that is not gross, masturbate more effectively or let yourself relax and be vulnerable.”

Is easy to like Geto Suguru, he’s handsome, has a sweet voice, he listens without interrupting (manterrupting is a big no-no for this job thankfully). Though sometimes it’s easy to hate him too, you have to remember he's saying what you need to hear not what you want to, even if your ears could use some tickling from time to time.

“Still with me?” he asks after you remain quiet.

“Yes, doc” he says your name in a warning tone, “Sorry, Suguru.”

“All good for our appointment next week?”

“Hm” your thoughts go to the newly found out corruption scheme that will need your attention the following days, “I’ll ask Yuuta to confirm with your secretary alright?”

“Whatever works best for you, love.”

“Bye, Suguru.”

“Don’t forget your homework.”

🏷️ @rinntvrou @sakurasimppp @sad-darksoul — to be tagged in future works of this series please comment “@ me” in this post.

note: i’m not sure if tickle the ears is a known term worldwide but means “saying or suggesting things to please even if untrue”. also i have some big plans for kinktober so next chapter might take a little while to be posted, let me know your thoughts <3

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader #toji x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk series #jjk x you

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