#blue bachelor buttons | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

satorena · 10 days

Text

❛ UNPROFESSIONALISM ! ❜

⟡ content warnings. explicit content. foul language. ceo!satoru. secretary!reader. mentioned past flings. fondlīng. fīngerīng. afab!reader. p in v. unprotected. brēēding. squīrtīng. gojo satoru is his own damn warning. 4.9k.

⟡ serena's note. oh if y’all knew the lengths i went thru just to post this damn fic. . .

“ugh, this is such a painnn!”

“the sooner you finish your paperwork, the sooner you’re off, sir.” you sigh, arms crossed over your chest. you’re used to your boss’ childish antics by now, having worked side by side with him for nearly a year. you check the time on your watch, “work ended about half an hour ago— you might want to hurry up.”

“but y/n!” he drags out your name, voice all whiny and pitched in a telltale manner. he pushes himself off away from his desk, chair rolling back from the impact as he lolls his head back. “this shit is sooo lame. didn’t i hire nanamin to take care of the boring stuff? how come he isn’t here handling this god forsaken load of terrorizing agony?!”

you click your tongue, clutching tighter at the clipboard in your hold. you wonder if he’d been dropped on the head as a child, his lack of self-awareness so painful it makes you reconsider if the check at the end of the week is ever worth it. “he’s scheduled the week off to keep his wife and newborn in check. he signed off about a month ago.”

he snaps his head up so quickly, you’re positive he’s gotten whiplash. gojo blinks at you through big blue eyes and snowy lashes, a dumbfounded look on his face. he lifts his index to scratch at the corner of his lips, and cocks his head to the side, “ahh. . . ‘s that right? wait— nanamin’s a dad?!”

you feel the vein in your head inevitably tick.

“sir,” you let out an exhausted sigh, completely baffled by his ineptitude. he must purposely choose to do this to you, there’s simply no other explanation. “we attended his wife’s baby shower a few months ago—the one you mistook for a bachelor party and had me escorting the escorts back home.” you lift your pointer finger, brows cinched as the memory burns into your mind. he tilts his head to the side, affirming the idea of his cluelessness even more.

you raised a second finger, “we showed up to the hospital to congratulate them on their baby— and you got them that ridiculous cutout board of yourself that sings when you press on the—”

“the button on my dick, yeah!” gojo cackles as if it’s the funniest story ever, as if you hadn’t need to dump a bucket of water on the cutout figure to get it to shut up before he could get his company sued for emotional distress.

you huff, the stressful reminder of that unfortunate day having you anxiously tugging at the hem of your skirt, “yep. that’s the one.” between the baby’s obnoxious cries and exaggerated mecha-gojo moans, you’d rather not think about that encounter.

“and this whole time i figured she was his sister,” gojo snorts, wiping a faux tear from the corner of his eye. he sighs when his laughter dies down, and pulls him chair back into his desk. “man, his wife’s a babe. guess that explains why she looked at me all crazy when i called her fine the other day.”

“you sure that’s the only reason?” you mutter under your breath, the insult flowing off your tongue so naturally that you couldn’t help stopping it, even if you wanted to. that man was all kinds of deranged, his ego and head much bigger than it needed to be.

“ouch, that’s mean, doll.” gojo pouts, clutching at the material of his blazer above his heart. the back of his free hand lands on his forehead as he dramatically leans back into his seat. his eyelids shut tightly, “you’re wounding me. ‘m too young to die. i can’t go on like this— tell my mother i loved her. sign off my will for me, wouldya? make sure to terrorize nanamin some more. oh, and empty out all my search histories. wouldn’t wanna ruin my reputation. and get rid of my porn magazines beneath my bed. ‘ve got some pretty nasty stuff there. and check up on my kid every now and then. and—”

“alright, alright. i apologize.” you cut his rambling off before it spiralled into something far worse. there’s a full headache throbbing at your temple, your feet ache from your heels, and your stomach rumbles in hunger. you’re ready to go home now, but that won’t be possible unless your big man baby of a boss finishes up his task. “i’m sure you’ve a very suitable man. many would be grateful to have you. my apologies, sir.”

he peeks through an eye, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. his beaten-puppy look is quickly replaced by one you know far too well now— the look he gets after beating his rival company in terms of stock. the look he gets after successfully shitting on his higher ups. the look he gets after getting you to cum on his fingers after a long day— you’ve stroked his ego. “i’ve trained you well, princess. always flattering me, ohh, however did i get so lucky?”

whatever have you done to get so unlucky? “time’s ticking, sir. you can’t afford to pick up megumi late from practice again.”

“nanamin’s wife might be a babe, but you’re a gem, y’know?” your boss entirely ignores you, leaning his elbow onto the pile of work he’s now completely erased from his existence. he leans his cheek into his palm, fingertips tapping at the side of his head. “one helluva girl. i mean it— i really lucked out with ya.”

you cross your leg over the other, shifting your hips over the suede material of his couch. you recognize the sultry undertone to his voice, and your clear your throat, “is that so?”

gojo chuckles, flashing you all thirty two teeth, “i mean it’s not everyday you find a woman with your patience. god, you must be in love with me or something.”

you roll your eyes, despite the small smile that creeps up on your lips, “that’s certainly not why i stayed,” which wasn’t entirely true, but it’s not as if you haven’t inflated his ego enough today. “you may be a handful but your pockets sure are generous.”

“wouldn’t kill you to make a guy feel good about himself from time to time, ya know?” he fiddled the black pen between his fingers, twirling the object from knuckle to knuckle. he pauses when you don’t answer, noticing you noticing his finger movements. and so he proceeds with a smirk, “you’re always so tense all the time. . . tell me, when’s the last time you’ve been properly fucked?”

you nearly lose the grip on your clipboard at his audacity, the question throwing you off guard. though, you quickly keep composure— a fierce facade that’s always labelled you as the calm and collected kind. though, you’re doubtful it worked against your own boss.

“that’s an unprofessional question, sir.” you grit through teeth, nails scratching at the wooden back of your board. highly hypocritical of yourself, as you’re absolutely no better than he is— having already opened a window of no return that fateful night you accepted his invite to come inside his home.

“pretty sure we’re past unprofessionalism.” he pushes himself off of his desk, rising to his feet. your eyes trail his movements, from the index finger that hooks at his tie to loosen the knot, to the cock of his head to the side that has his hair bouncing, to the sound of expensive shoes clicking with every stride closer to you.

his presence can be oddly intimidating at times— you’ve noticed while working with him for a while. there’re moments like whenever he steps up on a podium in front of thousands of people, or when the elevator doors slide open and presents him to the building. despite his childish antics, he exudes an aura so enchanting that serves as reminder of that at the end of the day, he’s the boss.

you swallow, eyes following his lean figure until he stops right before you. it’s hard to read him in moments like these, when he’s so unlike himself (or maybe finally truly himself). his hands sit in the pockets of his slacks, legs parted enough to entrap your own legs between his, as he tilts his head forward. his irises darken behind tinted shades, bangs curtaining the raise of an eyebrow.

“unprofessional?” he repeats, and your eyes narrow at him, subconsciously gripping at your board tighter. it’s the only thing that you seem to have control over, since it clearly wouldn’t be this conversation. “you mean like that time i had you creamin’ all over my fingers in the back of my car? or unprofessional like that time you bent over my desk and came all over my face? or was it that night when i had to tie your hands together to keep you from runnin’ away?”

your gaze flickers away from his, the heat of embarrassment creeping from your neck all the way to your face. he wasn’t wrong— your relationship with him had passed morally ethical the moment you pulled him in closer to kiss you instead of pushing him away.

“we’re still at work.” you quip, the last bit of resolve tattering away the longer you feel his eyes on you. your roll your ankle nervously, thighs tightening against another.

“work ended half an hour ago sweetheart, remember?” he reminds you, voice as taunting as ever, and you sure as hell don’t need to see him to know he’s smirking. right side of his lips pulled with a moon crescent dimple on the side— he’s making fun of you. “forgettin’ already? can’t have my adorable secretary so overwhelmed that it’s meltin’ her brain. that should be my dick’s doing only, of course.”

you click your tongue, eyes casting back up to stare him dead in the eye. naturally, he’s already meeting your own, with the same damn smirk you’d predicted, “you have paperwork to finish, sir. better get on that quickly.”

“oh?” he laughs at your command, pulling his hands out of his pockets to rest at his hips. he runs his tongue against the top row of his teeth, and you hate the way your mind instantly travels back to days prior when you’d once had that same tongue working in and out of you.

he hums in faux thought, tapping his index against his chin. his lips fall into a pout before instantly stretching back to its default state, his infamous smile, “i suppose you’re right. come help me finish then, hmm? teamwork makes the dream work.”

you’re skeptical— you know him too well, but you’d rather divert the focus of attention from you to those papers. anything to prevent your mind from wandering off further into endless unprofessional possibilities. “lead the way, boss.”

he curtsies dramatically as you rise to your feet, stomping over to his desk. you notice he’s got shit done, and you’ll most likely be here for a minute. and so, you stand next to the chair he’d abandoned and pick up the pen, waiting for him to sit so you both could get started.

only you should’ve known you’d fallen right into his trap the minute you agreed to his ridiculous offer. you feel him pressed up behind you, lurking over your shoulder to study whatever you had going on. he’s unreasonably tall, frame so large it has you feeling frail in his presence, and his cologne so strong you feel it already clouding your judgement.

damn it all.

clicking your tongue, you tilt your head to the side to narrow your eyes, “well? are you not going to sit?”

gojo blinks at you, “how come? i enjoy the view here much better anyway.”

you roll your eyes, before turning back to his desk. he was a complete idiot if he thought you hadn’t already anticipated his next moves. the more your wrist flexes, mumbling the words you read on your sheets as you write them down, the more you felt him. you could feel the back of your thighs meeting the from of his, you could feel his bulge rubbing at your ass, you could feel his warm breath fanning at the slope of your neck.

damn it all.

“sales have risen to a—ahhn!” your pen falters in your grip, scribbling on the white sheet as it hits the desk. your eyelids shut close, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip as a warm mouth kisses at that sensitive spot behind your ear. your palm lays flat against the surface of the table, side by side with gojo’s, body tensing as his mouth trails down lower.

“oh you bastard,” you mutter, shaky hand attempting to grab the pen in an unsteady hold. his chuckle rumbles deep from his chest, and you feel the vibrations against your back. you’re determined to stand your ground, despite the urge to push your hips back into him. he may have soft lips and an annoyingly hot voice, but you would not falter— no matter the moisture of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

you think you have it set in stone, the pen in your hold— albeit unsteady— despite his large hand creeping up your thigh. every trail of his touch leaves an electrifying feeling, and you’re sure he’s noticed your trembling knees if the way he subtly slid his leg in between yours to keep you steady said anything.

it’s when you’re ready to scribble out your mistake to replace it that he decides to plunge his canines to your jugular. the moan that erupts from you is squeaky, your hand clutching tightly at the pen as your back arches into his chest from the painful pleasure.

gojo nibbles and sucks at your skin, running his tongue over the throbbing area to soothe the pain, fingers trailing closer to your now aching core. you’re positive your skirt has now hiked up with how much your hips are pushing back into his, head lolled forward.

“aweee, what’s the matter sweetheart? ‘s too much for you already?” gojo coos, sultry voice sending chills from the shell of your ear down to your core, finally slipping his hand inside of your skirt. his fingertips brush at your clothed clit, the material of your thong shamefully damp in arousal. you huff, nails scratching at his desktop when his index and middle finger rub painfully slow circles at your clit. “but we’ve barely done anything? tsk, can’t afford slowing the company down because you’re too distracted to focus.”

your thighs and arms threaten to give out, body heating with lust and desire. you want to say you hate this, that this is against your typical work ethics, to tell him to fuck off and do the work himself. but the focus on your pussy really has you melting puddle, bottom lip tugged on to suppress any louder sounds to escape.

“y-you’re the worst.” you complain, though it fades into another moan when he pushes his thigh up in between your legs. you’re internally thankful, because had this gone any further, you’re certain you would’ve sunken to the floor.

“love you too, pretty girl.” he presses a kiss at your jaw, fingers pushing past your panties. fuck any resolve you’d held onto— you chuck the pen far away, planting both palms down as you allowed him to take control. every rub of his fingers at your clit had you dripping down his thigh, to where your hips shifted and rolled down his leg, dragging out that blissful heat in your gut.

“givin’ up already? y’didn’t put much of a fight this time, can’t say i’m a disappointed.” his free hand grips at your thigh and trails up to your hips, resting at your flesh to guide you down his leg. he’s all too enthralled by your sensitivity, gaze zeroed in on your expressions— from the slackness at your jaw to the way your brows furrow.

“just h-hurry up already,” you grit, eyelashes fluttering as your eyelids lift. your gaze meets his instantly, and gulp at the hungry look in his eyes. his skin is already flushed pink, lips parted as he pants heavily. “you’re no—ngh, better than i am, dickhead.”

“well aren’t ya damn mouthy,” gojo acknowledged, though clearly unbothered, as his fingers pinch at that bundle of nerve. you gasp, cunt clenching as it leaks more of your essence down on him. your head drops back against his shoulder, the slope of your back curving as you grip onto the closest thing in your vicinity— the hem of his blazer. “hm, whatever happened to my obedient secretary? always so polite and respectful, don’t tell me i haven’t trained you enough?”

“m-maybe you haven’t,” you pant, chest heaving as you feel his fingertips teasing the entrance of your folds. they’re slow movements, applying just enough pressure to ignite the spark in your guts but not enough to leave you wanting more. “can’t even do your damn j-job right and you call yourself boss? hah, wonder if mister geto would have this issue— fuuuck!”

“low fuckin’ blow, sweets.” gojo chuckles darkly, now two fingers knuckle deep in your cunt. he wastes no time to plunge himself inside, knuckles rubbing at your velvety walls. you clamp down on his digits, desperate to keep him in for the sake of that orgasm you craved. “and here i was ready to put this pretty pussy in my mouth. you’re dickless for a few days and catch an attitude wimme? that’s cold, baby.”

“dickless?” you cock a brow, teeth gritting as you focus all your energy left on delivering your next line. he always got so cocky whenever he had a slight advantage. “a-according to who—ooh, god, shit!”

“ooh god, shit!” gojo mocks you, a third finger now joining the others. he scissors your cunt open, the slick of your arousal simplifying the slide in. you’re dripping down to his palm, so wet despite the front you’re putting up. he knows you love it whenever he angles his fingers at this angle, the one that has you knees weak and ready to fold. “face it sweets, i’m the only one who treats this pussy the way it deserves. see how well she responds to me?”

and you wish you could negate or deny him, but unfortunately, you both know he’s correct. he’s only got his fingers inside of you and you’re already at your limit. your hips eagerly chase his fingers whenever he pulls out just to thrust them back in, the pad of his thumb drawing infinity signs at your clit. your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, knot in your tummy tightening from the stimulation.

“nghhh, ‘m gonna cum,” your hand slides down the slope of his forearm till where his wrist begins. you claw at the bone, clutching and grabbing at him eagerly. damn him and his damned fingers— driving you to mush with all six inches. “more, hah, need more— gimme more!”

“manners, pretty baby.” gojo coos at your ear, despite upping his pace. his hands reach all the right spots, pussy desperate to hold out to his fingers as they fuck your cunt open, soaking the digits in your slick. “c’mon girl, what’s the magic word? i know you’ve got it in you.”

“p-please! pleasepleaseplease—” you’re cut off by your own gasp as the dam in your stomach finally breaks. you leak on his fingers, squirting your juices as your muscles convulse, walls entrapping him in. your back arches away from him and you grasp at anything in your reach, your mouth gaped. you’re cussing like a sailor, vision blacked out beneath your eye lids as your hips twitch and stutter against gojo’s ruthless pace.

your high washes down, as you lose feeling in your limbs, falling face down to the desk. your skin is moist with heat, mouth parted as drool coats the abandoned paperwork beneath you. your body twitches with oversensitivity, thighs quaking as your last few spurts spray all over gojo’s thigh.

“don’t tell me you’re all worn out from a little foreplay?” your boss teases, his free hand delivering a blow onto your ass cheek. it recoils as you jolt, snivelling like a baby. you hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, slacks falling next and pooling at his ankles. the next few moments happen in a blur, but sooner than you’d realized, you’d been turned onto your back with your legs propped over his shoulders and your folds were being played with again, the overstimulation having your toes curling in your heels.

“anddd there we go,” gojo strokes at his bricked cock, your essence serving as lube to coat his dick. he drags his fist from the base of his shaft to the tip, both your fluids and his pre cum mixture softening the jerk. “you fuckin’ water park. jeez, maybe i should plug this tiny cunt to prevent any further leakage, yeah?”

“fucking hurry already!” you don’t whine, or so you hope, though the grip of your legs at the back of his neck does tighten. with your skirt hiked up and your panties pushed to the side, gojo has a clear view of your twitching pussy, a hole designated intentionally just for him. he can already feel the cum in his balls ready to burst and fill your womb.

“and back to mouthy she goes,” he chuckles, using the leverage of his hand at his cock to slap his dick at your folds. the impact causes you to whimper, your hands clutching at the border of the desk. you wish you could wipe that smirk off his face, but fuck if the way he didn’t rub himself against you arouse you in ways that would surely haunt you after the orgasmic high faded away.

“take a deep breath for me baby, kay?” gojo instructs, thumb brushing over the skin above your hip bone, and before you’re able to retaliate, he slides in his dick.

his length is nothing to scoff at, and although you’ve already dealt with it in the past, all that prepping he’d done earlier seemed in vain. he bottoms out quickly, balls deep into you cunt. both your moans blend in harmony, overlapping one another as you settle with the aching stretch. your pussy clenches around his cock uncontrollably, both eager to push and pull him away.

“shittttt,” he whines throatily despite the huge grin on his lips. the flush pampering his skin has gotten significantly deeper, pale brows furrowed to the centre of his forehead. his hands grip at your plush thighs, fingers digging deep into your skin, surely enough to leave bruises. the bastard— he knew you’d be forced to wear your own slacks tomorrow to avoid suspicions.

“no fuckin’ way ‘m already set to bust— hah, fuck, what in the magical pussy is this?” gojo groans, snowy hair bouncing with his head thrown back. the tighter you grip at his cock, the tighter he grips at your thighs and the deeper his breaths are.

you push yourself up to your elbows, giggling at the irony of the situation. “already huh? so it wasn’t the liquor’s fault last time.” surely you were no better, entirely stimulated and body excreting all kinds of fluids from all over, but the ball was now in your court, and you planned on taking advantage. “s-should’ve known.”

naturally, he doesn’t rise to your bait, instead moving his hips away from yours, slowly dragging his cock out until the only part left in your cunt is his pink tip. “don’t make me make you eat your words, sweets.”

you raise your hand and rest it right above his pelvis, eyes set straight on his. you’re both clearly eager and ready to go, but you still had your dignity to uphold. you drag your palm upwards his torso, nails trailing up his button-up top teasingly before clutching at his tie. with the strength left in you, you yank him down and closer to you.

the shift in position stirs his dick in your cunt, knees now pressed closer to your chest. he hovers over you, a newfound look in his eyes you aren’t ready to divulge into—he was a very expressive man after all. both your lips ghosts one over another, breaths hot and mingling. you feel fuzzy, all senses fucked but collectively drawing at a same conclusion: wanting him to fuck your brains out on this desk.

“fuckin’ hell that was sexy.” it almost comes off a whisper, his tone breathless as his eyes bare deep into your. you feel the warmth of his hands fading away in favour to cup at your waist.

you tilt your head to the side, nose grazing against his. your fingers fiddle with the hem of his tie, despite never breaking the eye contact. “you gonna rock my world now?”

nothing more has to be said as he engulfs your mouth into his, knocking the wind out of you. his tongue explores the warm cave of your mouth, no inch left untouched. you moan and kiss him back just as eagerly, sliding the hand from his neck tie to his nape. your fingers thread through his soft locks, nails scratching his scalp and tugging at the roots.

he whimpers pathetically, the pain sending courses of arousal straight to his dick as his hips slam right back against yours. his thrust is rough and deep— leaving you gasping, as he takes the opportunity to kiss you even deeper while simultaneously working on his strokes.

the curve of his cock reaches even deeper than his fingers could manage, rubbing at your gummy walls and stretching them even wider. the sounds of your bodies connecting, your skins slapping, both your fluids mixing— everything felt so wanton, so filthy. he was everywhere, so far in your stomach you swear you could feel him in your throat.

the stretch of his cock at your pussy sent a fiery feeling spreading towards all of your limbs. the squelching of your pussy tightening and clenching at his dick filling the room. he soon picked up his pace, railing into you with every fibre in his body, loving the way your body bounced up in reaction to his thrusts.

“s-shit, oh fuck— don’t stop, ngh, right there!” you begged, throwing your head back against the hard surface. you’d given up on trying to keep your eyes open, the intensity of his dick ramming into your guts so fierce, you’d never felt anything like it.

he takes a sharp inhale of breath, followed by a whiny exhale. you were driving him insane, your sloppy cunt greedily clamping on his dick as if it were its lifeline. “suckin’ me in so tight, shitttt baby, ‘s like you want me to fill this perfect pussy full of my nut.” he dives his tongue deeper into your mouth for extra measure. you’re in a turmoil of multiple emotions at once but you kiss him back— until your lips feel tender and your mouth tastes of his breath.

he was annoyingly intoxicating, whether you wanted to admit it or not. your body spoke every word you were ashamed to say, responding with his own almost too perfectly.

when he slips his thumb to toy at your clit, your toes curl in your shoes and you’re accustomed to the oncoming feeling all too well, nails clawing at his skin. your words come out all fumbled mixed with tongue and drool, “s-satoru, i— ‘m gonna, don’t you stop— fuck ‘s too much— hnng!” you pull away just slightly, eyes all dazed as they roll to the back of your skull.

“shit, oh shit, me too,” he swipes at the drool dribbling past your mouth. from there, he plants more kisses at your skin, nibbling at every inch of you. he’s rutting like a madman, pace unforgiving as he focuses on that same spot that has you mindless. he finds you prettiest when you’re this way— all obedient for him. “my pretty girl— where do i— fuck, where—”

“inside.” as if you’d wanted to kill him, just as quick the word left your lips, he emptied his balls in your cunt. he sobs, his orgasm wracking over his entire body as he slams and fills your pussy full of him. the mixture of sounds is downright sinful, and whether it’d been the focus on your clit or his inhumane stamina, you soon met your similar end.

you cream on his dick once more, legs trembling as your second orgasm washes over you. your mind gone dumb, you do nothing but lay as you take the pounding inflicted on your worn out pussy. with each stroke you see stars, breasts juggling at the match of his pace. it’s damn near painful, but in the best enjoyable way. you feel yourself getting fuller by the second as you spray more of your arousal onto him.

the high eventually comes down for you both, the room reeking of sex. you’re both panting heavily, muscles twitching from overexertion. you couldn’t recall the last time you’d been fucked to the point of a momentary blackout— but you’d be damned if you’d ever let him know. he was too busy crying over your cunt anyways.

after a moment of silence, “. . .shit.”

“what?” you hum tiredly, rubbing the back of your hand to your tired hands. god, you could barely muster enough energy to do just that. what did this man eat?

he skips a few beats, before sheepishly chuckling, the hand that’d once been tracing patterns at the skin of your thighs now moving to your side. your gaze follows his movements, and it’s only when he retracts his hand does your heart sink to your chest.

“we definitely fucked these papers up.”

. . . shit.

io baby.. if you ever end up reading this i did it :c

#stargirl★rena.#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n

3K notes · View notes

nanaminokanojo · 6 months

Text

Honey, Oh Sugar, Sugar

JJK men as your sugar daddies and what happens when you tell them you're breaking things off cause you've secretly fallen for them and "breached" the contract. Or me just being hung up on the whole concept of sugar daddies cause I don’t wanna work anymore and I need Nanami in my life.

MASTERLIST

NANAMI

'I can't see you right now.'

Those words glared at you, sharp black slashes that marred the white backdrop of your screen. They may not carry much weight without context, but they broke you a thousand times weighed on you like the sky had fallen over, crushing you as you heard the voice behind the words, making you regret every other choice you've made so far.

They blurred out as tears started to flood your eyes, falling on the device in your hand, but the pain they caused didn't fade in the least. If anything, you felt exponentially worse, enough to make you wish for death. It was more for the fact that you knew it was your fault, a result of your weakness and lack of prudence, your over-estimation of yourself and biting off more than you can chew.

Still, how were you to know back then? How the fuck were you supposed to know that things would end up making you feel as miserable as you did? How the fuck could you have been able to tell that you'd be wishing to tear yourself away from the only thing that seemed to make your life make sense?

If you were told that gods existed and walked in Prussian blue button-downs and khaki shorts as they surveyed their domain from the balcony of their private beach houses, you wouldn't have believed it. But Nanami Kento came into your life in that same exact form, a stoic, tall blonde, ten years your senior, successful in all his endeavors but always too busy for anything.

Nanami Kento was your best friend's neighbor – at least at their beach-front rest house. It was funny how he was supposed to be this well-known yet aloof individual in the community. And yet, the moment you were introduced to him, he purposefully made a way to be around you where you fell into easy conversation with him. Your friend told you their neighbor hardly ever stayed at his summer retreat for longer than two days, popping out one day only to be replaced by the caretakers who would then tell them that "Nanami-san had an emergency business trip." On top of that, he never really showed up when your friend's parents would invite him for whatever, consistently declining politely, but because of you, he finally honored one of their invitations.

However, it made you wonder what he found so interesting in a university student like you when his life was so much more exciting, being the founder of his own company. He was a bachelor at thirty two, and he's got everything figured out while you were in the final year of your higher education, and you still didn't know what to do with your life.

The reason became evident when you met him again after insisting that you should before you parted that evening at the beach, even leaving you his calling card.

How your conversation went from how his work was going and how your studies were to his proposition for you to be basically his sugar baby was something you couldn't fathom at that time. He just went on about coming clean and expressing his real intentions, then later asked you to think about it before dishing out a conversation about how the two of you should meet again to draft the parameters of your arrangement. Nanami later apologized, smiling apologetically for startling you – the biggest understatement of the century – adding that he wasn't one to beat around the bush.

"I hope I didn't scare you away," he said when dropping you off to campus.

A week later, you signed a contract with him, and then he kissed you, taking your breath away instead of shaking your hand to seal your pact. Everything went smoothly. It seemed a good idea back then. Boy you wished there was a time when you could have been more mistaken in your life.

You let out a mirthless laugh as you realized you were at the end of the rope regarding Nanami. You cannot handle it anymore when, for the past half year, you've been putting off talking to him about the state of matters from your end. You know you're breaching your agreement, which is a testament to the reality of your liaisons. You failed at keeping it emotionless, evidently, and every single time you think about coming clean and facing rejection, you felt like cowering in fear.

You already know how binding those agreements were. Nanami had been clear about what he wanted, and you also agreed because you thought you wanted precisely that – an arrangement without commitment, one you can easily get out of without issues. He would not want you if he knew the truth, and although it took far too much strength and courage to accept it, you managed. But now that you have finally decided to speak to him, he tells you he can't be there. Then again, you didn't even have the right to demand his time.

It came in a cocktail of emotions when you realized you didn't want his money or anything else he had to offer. You only wanted one thing: his heart. Too bad it was off the table. It's not something he offered to ever be in your contract.

You hated yourself for being weak, for opening up when you should have remained frozen even towards him. But you couldn't help it when your heart started confusing his caring side for actual feelings over his usual acts of reminding you that he was still the older one between you and actually had the responsibility to take care of you whether you've got an arrangement or not.

You sure as hell didn't regret the perks that came with it – trips to any place you could name, things you get with just one word, and the amazing love-making that came with it. Nanami was a great lover. It never just felt like sex in a transactional manner. It always showed how much of a sensitive soul he is, how much he cared for you. But it's not exactly in the way you wanted it.

"I like you, and I enjoy your company, but being me, this is all I can offer at the moment."

Those were his words, and though it's not explicitly written in the contract, you knew it was over when you started perceiving him as the center of your universe. That was no good, and maybe he knew, considering how he had been "too preoccupied" when you said you wanted to talk. Suddenly, he didn't have time for you, but you wanted to tell him of your decision to end matters in person. He deserved that, at least. Nanami was just too good, and you didn't want him to do the guesswork.

That same night, you walked out of the luxury flat he rented for you, packing a bottle of wine, which you ended up drinking at your best friend's house.

You woke up the next day, still groggy from all the alcohol you drank, to the sound of your best friend speaking angrily to someone in hushed tones. She was telling someone off and threatening them about answering if something ends badly, but then you hear your name.

"Y/N's a really sensitive person underneath regardless of what she says," she tells whoever she is talking to. You don't hear the response to her statement, but there was a long pause, and then you hear the front door open and close with her declaration to give this person their space.

It wasn't long before the guest room door opened, and you found yourself face-to-face with Nanami. You motioned to get up, but he shook his head and sat beside you on the bed.

"Why did you leave?" he asked, straight to the point as always. You didn't expect anything less, but you couldn't look him in the eye as you said, "I can't do this anymore."

Much to his surprise, you started crying the moment you spoke. It was so atypical of you to show him any kind of weakness, always so independent in your actions and words that he felt useless at times, so he found the need to reach out and hold you.

You flinched. "Please don't."

Nanami sighed, running his fingers through his usually perfect hair. For the first time, you notice how it's not fixed the way it should be and how he has dark rings under his eyes, his cheeks a bit sunken. He looked at you, expressions unfathomable, but you saw how he clenched and unclenched his fists.

"Why not?"

His question angered you, that much he could tell, and it was obvious how you were trying your very best to calm down. You sat up and he felt the need to brace himself for whatever you will say.

"I'm ending this...this..."

"Arrangement," he supplied for you, to which you nodded, the sting of that word evident on your face. "Yes, that."

He nodded in understanding, but he stared you down with a pensive look on his handsome face, and you wanted just to run before you fell even harder. "May I at least know why?"

You bit your lower lip, looking elsewhere but him as your eyes filled with fresh tears. You didn't know how on earth you were going to explain it to him in detail, but as he gave it to you straight and simple, you thought it best to do the same. It would be self-explanatory anyway.

Wringing your fingers, you all but whispered, "Kento, I'm in love with you." When he didn't speak, you started rambling on about how you knew things wouldn't change if you said it and that he's got more important things to deal with over your "childish feelings" but that you can't help it.

"Say that again," he told you.

"What?" You didn't realize he had moved closer, his face merely inches from yours and his other arm caging you on your spot.

"The first thing you said. Say it again." He sounded commanding as he was used to, but then he let his forehead rest on your shoulder, feeling defeated. "Please?" he said, sounding small, unsure.

You wiped the tears off your face, sniffling. You've resigned yourself to the bad outcomes of your actions. "I'm in love with you."

"If that's the case, wouldn't you want to be with me?"

"Because you said you could only offer me this arrangement."

At that, he looked up at you, cupping your face with his hands and staring you straight in the eyes, eyes you couldn't lie to. You were somewhat surprised that he didn't have a single clue as to what had been ailing you as perceptive as he was. Then again, maybe you were just too good at hiding it until you weren't, everything hidden behind the smokescreen of your physical intimacy and the pretty smiles you would offer his way.

"Be honest with me. Did it ever feel like it's just that?" he asked cautiously, groping for words.

This time, you couldn't hold back and began tearing up again, your anger finally rearing itself on the surface. "That's exactly the problem!" You pried his hands off of you and stood up. "I can't figure you out, and I don't want to be confused anymore. We had an agreement, I know that, and I'm sorry, but it hurts too much knowing you can give me anything I ask for but not what I want the most."

He also stood up, invading your space and pulling you towards him. He wasn't about to just lose you, not without a fight. Nanami made you look at him, his arm around your waist tight as he commanded your attention but still gentle and giving you your leeway to run if you wanted. You, on the other hand, didn't need much restraining nor convincing as you found yourself looking into his eyes and wanting nothing but to be close and be able to hold him, own him and all that he is, love him, and love him hard, love him over and over again, surrender your heart and let him have you even if you knew he could never give it back.

But all your notions were dispelled with a few choice words. "You never asked."

"I – what?"

"The thing you want the most that you claimed I can't give you. You never asked for it."

Ah. You chuckled without humor. Of course, it's on you for not asking. "Because I can't! That's not how it works. It's not my place to ask. I've no place of that nature in your life."

"Really now, Y/N?" Nanami looked stung, annoyed even, when typically, he wouldn't even show you a disapproving look at your worst behavior around him.

"It's okay. This is on me." You stepped back from him, resigning yourself to the idea of not seeing him again and saying goodbye. "And I know you're busy, so don't worry about me. I just really wanted to tell you personally, at least. I'll be fine."

"I won't be..."

"Stop it! You said so yourself –"

"I said 'at the moment' back then if I remember it correctly?"

You shrugged. "Kento, you don't have to hyper-analyze what you said back then. Don't stress –"

At that, his expressions changed, and he appeared manic, so different from his calm and composed demeanor. "This is stressing me out."

"I'm sorry."

"I love you."

You shook your head. Pity was the last thing you needed, and hearing those words in such a context, even less so. "No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. You can't just assume things like that. And though I detest confrontations like this, I'm prepared to be in conflict with you for it if it means you stay with me."

You smiled ruefully at him, coming closer to hug him, holding onto whatever you could while you still had time, taking in the way he smelled, the way his hair felt against your palms. "You're really too nice. Don't say things like that even if you feel bad for me. You don't have to."

Nanami sighed again, looking absolutely tired, but had it in him to smile despite your words. "Y/N, I just got the shovel talk with your best friend after I told her I love you – rather graphic, too – and you're telling me you don't have a place in my life? I would not even be here if you didn't matter to me. You, of all people, should know that I don't waste my time on things I don't find worthwhile, but I am here, am I not?"

You felt your heart thundering in your chest as you minced his words, unable to process everything at the moment, but you found yourself overwhelmed with joy that your feelings weren't one-sided. "You are."

"But you're right, so let's end this arrangement."

Swallowing hard, you nodded.

"Let's make this the real thing without agreements and roles. What do you say about that?" He tilted his head to have a closer look at you.

Everything be damned, but you were taking your chances. "Okay," you whispered.

"I love you. I'm in love with you, too. If it's my heart you want, you can have it. It's yours. All yours, my sweet."

You bit your lower lip, fighting a smile as you glanced at him from under your lashes, not trusting yourself to speak.

Nanami leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he held you closer. "I love you," he repeated.

"I know."

He chuckled. "Now you know. But that's not what I want to hear, Y/N. I said, I love you."

Instead of a response, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him close as you stood on your toes to claim his lips with yours, your toes curling as he reciprocated in kind. This one felt different, not like some sort of transaction or a thank you for the things he provides for you. It felt like the real thing...like love.

"Then I love you, too."

TOJI

"She's an associate, Y/N. Stop being such a brat," Toji tells you the moment he arrived at the penthouse where he was housing you a good hour after you stormed out of the party he was hosting. You looked over your shoulder to find his tall, broad form leaning against the doorpost, arms crossed and...smirking.

"Or are you doing this on purpose 'cause you want daddy to punish you, hmm?"

You scoffed as you angrily wiped your tears, entering the walk-in wardrobe and slamming the door shut. You just wanted to be away from him, be able to think without him influencing your thoughts. If Fushiguro Toji was a drug, he'd most certainly be heroin – absolutely addictive with slim chances to none in terms of recovery, but you still wanted more, more, and some more. And you fell right into that trap, very much aware of it all.

You were a budding freelance journalist who got into a tangle with his organization after a wrong lead. He had been nice to you on the get-go, the understanding and very accommodating kumicho letting Miss Nosey off the hook. You kept running into him after that until one drunken evening at one of his clubs, where he had to rescue you from a guy who couldn't take no for an answer.

He drove you home, and instead of getting out of his car, the two of you got talking, and he started showing you pictures of his adorable son. And after fucking you senseless in that same car, he offered you an arrangement you thought you couldn't refuse at that time.

Slowly, you found yourself weaving into Toji's complicated life and seeing beyond just the ruthless gang leader who showered you with everything and anything he could give. The sky is the limit where Toji was concerned, and he was outrageous about the presents he would give you. But that always came with a catch. He took as much as he gave, probably more, and he was possessive of you. It wasn't healthy how he could do whatever the fuck he wanted while your rewards came with limitations attached to them.

Still, you stayed and got lost in the maze that was the workings of his mind and his personal life, which was just about his little boy. You instantly fell in love with Megumi and, in the process, with Toji himself. You know that now without a doubt, and it scared the living daylights out of you.

That realization came gradually. At first, you chalked it up to just a physical response, inducing chemicals in your head that gave you the illusion and delusion of emotional affection. What's love got to do with it, right? At first, it was little things like wanting to see him at the most random times of the day, missing him, and such. Then it escalated into incremental degrees of possessiveness, which you thought was fair given his inclination to call you his, be that in words while he's balls-deep in you or the way he would suddenly hold onto you with those large hands in the presence of others.

And quite frankly, you seemed to have picked up on that habit the wrong way, learning to reciprocate in the same way. It was messy business at best, but then again, it started just as messy.

The thought and reality of it hadn't felt as real as it did when you saw another woman clutching just as possessively at his arm. It seemed innocent, but seeing those blood-red nails brushing on his muscled arms as if their owner had any right to do it or had probably staked their claim made your blood boil, and your heart break. All the while, in your head, you were repetitively saying, "He's mine. I had him first."

You're in love with him, and that's a fact. Because why else would you be having such intense emotional outbursts over the fact that he was dangling another woman in his arms? It's a fact you didn't want to face anyway. He's supposed to be your sugar daddy, nothing else. It came with its perks, but you're human, and Toji is irresistible in more ways than one and never limited to just how he satisfies you physically. You loved him, his son and everything that he is included.

And you thought it had to stop. He didn't see you that way.

You emerged from the wardrobe, pulling a suitcase behind you, and suddenly, tension filled the air as Toji straightened to his full height, sapphire eyes shifting between you and the luggage.

"What are you doing?" he asked. Gone was his playful mood from earlier, replaced by something darker. He wasn't expressive, almost always looking bored out of his wits, and his facial muscles only rearranging in minute details to convey change, but it was enough to tell you to be on guard.

You walked towards him, mustering all your courage as you said, "I think we should end this."

"Because you're jealous?" He arched a brow at you. "I already told you –"

You shook your head, reaching up to touch his cheek, smiling as you traced downward before running your thumb against the scar at the side of his lips. While it made him look like a hooligan, you always thought it was a part of his charm. "That's hardly the issue here. As cliché as it is, it's not you; it's me. Thank you for everything, Toji. Give my love to Megumi."

At that, he chuckled. "And you expect me to just sit back with that sorry excuse? What do you take me for?"

Your eyes flashed in anger at the way he was undermining the circumstances. "Toji, I'm serious. It may be a sorry excuse for you, but it's not the same for me."

He stepped closer, looming over you. "So, speak up. Do I look like I'm playing here, sweetheart?"

"I...I can't..."

"What now?" He smirked, but you saw hurt cross his features, making you hesitate. It was too late when you realized you were stuck between a hard place and Toji, literally and figuratively. Your back hit the wall, and a second after, he slammed a palm just beside your head, staring you down. "I'm just a lowlife so I don't even deserve any proper explanation, is that it?"

"What? No! That's the last thing on my mind!" you retorted.

"So what? You're done writing your little reveal-all piece on me, so you're cutting me loose?"

How dare he, you thought. You were faithful to your agreement with him, and not once did you ever think of betraying him like that. Again, you were overwhelmed by the intensity of how you felt for him. You shook your head, trying to hold it in when your feelings were close to slipping out of your lips from the tip of your tongue. You didn't like the way he was looking at you as if you murdered his son and only family, but why were you making him angrier?

"If that's what you want to think, then fine."

"So fucking tell me, woman!"

"You should know by now that your intimidation tactic doesn't work on me," you told him dryly.

"You really are my woman," he says proudly, almost love-struck, but you weren't about to buy it.

"Let me go."

"And if I don't?"

"You wouldn't like what I will do, Toji."

"Oh, is that so?" Toji wasn't a patient man, but he always took his time with you, and that trait of his was proven to you for the first time when, in the next moment, you found yourself upside down after he hauled you onto his shoulder and easily carried you to the bed.

Before you knew it, you were on the mattress, but upon realizing what he was about to do, you started beating him on the chest with your fists, tears spilling out of your eyes. It was futile, you knew that, but you still wanted to get away from him. He easily pinned your hands down, silencing your protests with his lips as he took possession of yours. And just like that, you were docile as a kitten under his mercy and the heat of his touch.

"Do you still wanna leave me?" You just glared at him, your lack of response making him grit his teeth and tear the dress you were wearing off of you.

"Toji, what the – mmph!"

Again, he swallowed your words, his hands roaming over your now naked body. He pulled back only to say, "I'm giving you a chance to talk now, darling. Don't waste it." He then started kissing your neck, going lower and lower, the sounds he was making distracting you. "I'm listening, Y/N. And don't give me another bullshit excuse."

Your misery mingled with the carnal pleasure he was pulling out of you, coming in rivulets of tears as you half-sobbed, half-moaned at the way he was touching everything his hands could reach while he ground his crotch against yours.

"Toji, please stop," you pleaded, and he did, flashing you a pained look. For the first time, it seems that he was showing you the real person behind all the facade, the version of Fushiguro Toji exclusively reserved for Megumi.

He sat on his haunches, looking down at your vulnerable form as you covered your face with your arms and continued to sob. "I-I'm sorry..."

"No. I'm sorry," you answered between deep draws of breath. You weren't crying because of what he was doing. It was more for the fact that you were hurting him as much as your arrangement was hurting you. "But what the hell can I do?"

He hovered over you, prying your hands away from your face as gently as he could and peppering your face with kisses. "What is it, darling? Come on, tell me."

"I broke our agreement..." You looked away from him.

He eyed you quizzically. "And how did you do that?"

"By falling in love with you." You finally met his gaze. "I know you said our liaisons will not go beyond just what we really are to each other, but I couldn't help it. I care for you and Megumi, so much so that I want to be a genuine part of your lives. And it's not my place to ask, so I'm sorry."

To your surprise, he laughed, like really laughed, and you haven't felt so embarrassed in your life after pouring your heart out to him. You wanted the whole place to crumble into a pit and take you with it.

When he was calm enough, he said, "Fucking finally!"

"What?"

He sighed, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. "Do you know how long I've waited for you to say that to me?"

You paled but at the same time, you felt your face getting hot, realizing what he meant. "You knew?"

"From the moment it happened, yes. You think you can just walk out on me like that?" He shook his head. "Don't act like you don't know me at all."

"Y-you –" You didn't know what to say, getting up halfway only to be met with a scorching kiss that left you breathless.

Toji undid his pants, letting his cock spring free, and then lifted you onto his lap, holding you close. "I knew you were made for me the moment Megumi's eyes lit up the first time he asked if you were gonna be his new mommy."

"He did?" you asked in muffled tones against the crook of his neck.

"So what do you say? 'Cause I was dying to say yes." He kissed your temple, and underneath, you could feel him preparing to align himself with you.

You pulled away, holding his head between your hands as you looked at him in disbelief. "You were?"

He rolled his eyes. He really wasn't good at this. "Yes, darling. Now, are you still gonna leave me? Us?"

You pouted. "You're not just using Megumi to make me stay, right?" You gasped when he nudged your entrance, knowing he's got you in the bag. "I won't even let you near my son if I didn't want you as much as I do. But I got the best wingman, no?"

You just stared at him in disbelief but he prompted you by thrusting upward and breaking you away from your reverie, a high-pitched moan ripping out of your throat.

"Come on, Y/N. Decide so I can love you as much as you want me to." He grinned deviously at you. "Not that I plan to do otherwise if you decide to go."

"And if I go anyway?"

He smirked. "I don't know, love. I'm yakuza after all."

"Is that a threat?!" You smacked him on the chest, earning you a chuckle and a kiss to your forehead. "Yes. Can I love you now?" he asked and you swore he looked just like Megumi when he would beg you for goodies. So, how can you say no to that?

~*~

GOJO

"Where have you been?"

The silence you expected to arrive to at the penthouse was broken the moment you walked by the vast living room. You almost dropped the red heels you held when you heard that familiar voice echo through the room, quiet yet deadly.

You visibly froze before turning around to see the owner of the voice. He looked upset, those usually bright orbs of aquamarine having turned into cold, hard gems as they regarded you. The darkness of the room that surrounded him like a miasma didn't help in quelling the tension in the room. If there was one thing Gojo Satoru hated, it's when he is disobeyed, and you flouting his orders and going out to party wasn't an exception. Sure, he doted on you and always showered you with gifts and affection, but being part of his world meant you needed to follow strict rules in exchange for the lavish life he provided for you.

You knew you should not have gone anywhere apart from your university and the place you called home. You knew you should not have given his men trouble by thinking you were at home after you snuck out, but you thought, why not? Gojo wasn't supposed to be back until the following day anyway, "Negotiations," he called them. You didn't want to feel alone in such an empty space, which was becoming more frequent as of late. You understood where he was coming from, but at the same time, you refused to and you wanted to act out.

Choosing to aggravate his foul mood further, you shrugged and attempted to walk past without saying anything, but you effectively stopped when he said, "Stop right there. We're not done talking."

Veering to look at him with the coldest expression you could muster, you retorted, "I went out with my friends. What's the big deal?"

He stood up from his seat, evidently pissed off at your attitude. "I thought I told you. It's dangerous, Y/N. I'm just trying to protect you. What if something happened to you?"

"They're your enemies, Satoru, not mine."

"It doesn't change the fact that they will hurt you if they can!" He had such a menacing look on his face when he was angry which you thought never belonged with those easy smiles and generally perfect visage of his. Someone so beautiful being shrouded in darkness was a violation to nature, and Gojo was just so.

"Well then, maybe I shouldn't have gotten together with you!" you shouted back, throwing your expensive shoes on the floor, imagining it was an extension of him you wished to hurt. "I could be in danger; I understand that. I'm not stupid, but I never cared for any of that as long as I have you, but you're never there! Why should I stay put when you tell me to?"

Gojo was evidently taken aback at your outburst, not believing that this was the welcome he gets after being away. At the same time, he felt guilty and deserving of your harsh treatment of him, feeling his heart sinking at your words. "You'll be safer that way," was all he could say.

You smirked at him, shaking your head. "And lonely. You forgot lonely." You shrugged, walking away from him. "I'm tired."

Having ended up in the bathroom where you found solace from Gojo, you leaned your arms and propped your chin on the rim of the huge tub, staring at the city lights through the glass walls. It seemed like a good idea to get tangled up with an older male who wanted to take care of you at your darkest moments, having been fired from your job and thrown out of your apartment which made you resort to sleeping in your car.

That's how you met in the first place, making the mistake of parking around the outskirts of the city, hugging a can of pepper spray in your sleep when Gojo and his men decided to make an exchange at the empty parking lot of the warehouse nearby. Safe to say, it went awry when men started to pull out guns.

He took you home after his right-hand man spotted you in the car when your phone lit up at the wrong time. At first, he was suspicious of you, thinking you were an asset for an enemy clan. You were probably traumatized or in utter shock when your first reaction to him after seeing him break someone's neck a few yards from your car was to tell him he was beautiful while also shivering at the thought of how easily those gloved hands could murder you.

Gojo had been straightforward from the get-go, never hiding his intentions the moment he thumbed at your chin, forcing you to behold his beauty in all its glory which was just a bonus with how gentle, kind and caring he was towards you. And you clung to the dark angel who offered you a comfortable life away from the dangers of the streets, even offering to pay for your studies when he found out just how well you did in them. It seemed you were embroiled in more danger than you anticipated, however.

To say that you didn't know what kind of life you have entangled yourself in would be a lie. You knew just what kind of person Gojo Satoru is, his pretty hands and his very name stained in blood. The tattoos that adorned his beautiful alabaster skin were a dead ringer of just what kind of clan he belonged to, and it didn't help that he was surrounded by ruffians like a lone rose in a sea of thorns all the time.

They called him The Prince, even his enemies, and what a fitting name, at least to you with whom he showed his better side and true self underneath the emotionally constipated yakuza overlord that he is. But that was the very thing that broke your heart.

You had an agreement. Blatantly put, you are his pet, and he is your owner who poured money on trinkets he thought would make you happy in exchange for favors. That's it. You give him your body, and you get to have him for all those moments he is available. You wouldn't deny that it was an economically good proposition and beggars probably can never be choosers as was the case for you, but you never anticipated just what a lonely existence it would be on top of it being dangerous when you were deemed his weakness.

What a laugh. You weren't his weakness, not even remotely close. It was all for naught when your life is being put in line because of stupid assumptions his enemies resorted to. You will die if you don't toe the line according to Gojo's standards, and for what? They'd probably think they hurt him, but really, they're just giving him an excuse to go on a rampage, which will be for reasons vastly different from their thoughts.

But more than anything, the most significant matter at stake was your heart, if not your sanity. Letting that information out during your outburst was a faux pas on your part, and you emotionally prepared yourself to leave the kind of life Gojo granted you in the first place. You've fallen for him, and that wasn't a good thing when he made it clear just what purpose you served for him.

The sound of water droplets from the faucet was suddenly interrupted by the glass doors sliding open to accommodate Gojo, who had already changed into a fluffy, white robe, shedding it off as he approached you. You didn't acknowledge his presence and merely watched his reflection through the wall. That didn't deter him from coming into the bathtub behind you and pulling you close.

"Would you please look at me, sweetheart?" he asked, his melodious voice making every fiber of your being tense. He wrapped an arm around you, his breath ghosting over your nape. "Did I make you that upset while I was away? I'm sorry, my pet."

His apology always came with a catch. You didn't have to enumerate them when you're only supposed to understand.

"Still mad at me? What does my Y/N want, hmm?" Gojo started placing kisses on your shoulder, moving upwards to your neck, but before it could cloud your judgment, you moved forward, gently taking his arm off of you, much to his dissatisfaction. He sighed, letting you have your space. "What's the problem?"

You hugged your knees to yourself, feeling the coldness of the air when you lost contact with him. "It's not something you could fix by kissing me." As if on cue, you absently scooped some soapy water and rubbed it over the areas he touched.

Being the brat used to having his way, Gojo scoffed. "Are you literally washing away my kisses?" It's just like him to ask about the trivial things when he feels like it. He reached out to touch you when you didn't answer but stopped when you flinched. He immediately turned serious, the air around you becoming charged with tension. "Y/N, will you please tell me what's bothering you?"

"You are."

"What?"

You leaned your forehead on your knees, feeling vulnerable to the whole world as you calmed your inner turmoil and tried to put in words how you felt, how things would end by your hand before he casts you away.

"I breached our contract."

Silence followed your words, and those mere seconds of pause felt like an eternity as you feared the worst. But then he said, "Will you elaborate on that?"

You lifted your head, throwing it back as you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. "I know I don't have any right to be demanding things from you, least of all hold it against you when I miss you in your absence."

"You miss me?"

"But I have no control over how I started feeling the way I do, becoming more pronounced whenever you're not with me. We had an agreement, I know that, but because I broke it, I guess I'll have to take it upon myself to end this."

"End what?" He straightened up, his blue eyes filling with dread. "What – what are you talking about?" He sounded angry this time but like that of an animal cornered as opposed to being the hunter.

You looked at him from over your shoulder. "I'm leaving you, Satoru."

A mix of emotions started to take shape with every nuance in his expression, as if he could not make up his mind about how he would feel about what you just said. For a split second, he looked at you as if you had obliterated his whole being, but then he calmed down, massaging the point between his blue eyes.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore. I know my role, and I should just walk away before it gets out of hand."

"What role?"

You laughed without humor. "I am, in essence, just your sugar baby, Satoru. You give me things that you see fit. I don't get to demand anything from you."

"Is that how you see yourself?" His tone was scathing but calming at the same time. It makes things easier for you.

"Let's not pretend anymore, okay?"

"So what exactly are you telling me?"

"Do I have to spell everything out for you?" you asked in exasperation, your tears finally dripping from your eyes.

He let up on the harsh expression on his face upon seeing them. "Y/N, baby, don't cry. Please. I just need you to explain. I deserve at least that when you're telling me you want to –"

"I love you, Satoru." You smiled at him through your tears, the most sincere one you gave his way since you realized how you felt.

"You do?"

"I don't regret it regardless of the consequences."

"Y/N, I'm confused."

You didn't address that. Gojo was probably one of the most brilliant people you knew, but it was always easy to feign ignorance, regardless of that. Without addressing it, you motioned to get out of the tub, wondering where you'll start with packing, but then almost everything you owned was technically Gojo's. It would be easy, you thought.

"Anyway, you know now. I should go."

Gojo wasn't having any of it. He stopped you, pulling you towards him. "You just told me you love me, and you're leaving me behind?"

You blinked. "Am I...not supposed to?"

Gojo smirked at you. "What makes you think you can just walk away now that I know?"

You sank into the water, creating splashes in your wake. You didn't know how to feel about that. It was a choice between succumbing to that false sense of security you learned to accept during the three years you've been with him or relief over the possibility that he reciprocated your feelings. However, before you could even decide, Gojo chose to addle your brain by leaning in and taking possession of your lips, giving you no choice but to melt and submit to his touches.

It was passionate as usual, setting every ounce of your existence aflame while his hands roamed around every inch of your skin, marking his territory. You appreciated that about him, not holding back and giving you what you wanted without inhibitions, but you've always accepted that what you wanted the most, he could never ever give. You've resigned yourself to that fact, and yet, whenever he touches you, you are convinced otherwise because his actions always contrast his words. You hated how hope started to grow in your chest, and although he quickly turned you on, you fought against it and pulled away from him.

"N-no. Stop."

"Why?" He looked at you, kiss-drunk and dazed.

"I can't do this anymore. I'm not going to force you to be beholden to me." You inched backward. "Just let me go."

Gojo clucked his tongue, sighing profoundly and covering his face with his hands in utter frustration. "What have I done?"

You shook your head. "It's not your fault."

"No..."

It was your turn to reach out to him, forcing his hands off of his face as you kneeled before him. "Satoru, you can hardly be blamed for how I feel. It's okay. I am not mad at you."

"Yeah, but I sure as hell am mad at myself." He let you take his hands but immediately reversed roles and held your hand in his. "Oh, Y/N. My sweet, sweet Y/N." His broad shoulders drooped down. "It's my fault why you're doing this right now for making you feel like you had to toe boundaries with me where your emotions are concerned."

"We signed a contract..."

He lifted his hand to tenderly graze your cheek, his icy blue eyes showing that misplaced warmth you've become familiar with even when he made someone beg for mercy. Gojo Satoru always shone brilliantly amid the darkness that surrounded him. You gravitated towards that light no matter how twisted it was.

"This is my doing."

"No –"

"But it's true." He smiled sadly at you. "I know what I am, and I am so deep in it that nothing could right the wrongs I've done. That contract was supposed to be a shield for you against me, Y/N, not the other way around."

"What?" Now you're confused.

"The moment you called me beautiful despite seeing what you did all those years ago, I knew I had to have you with me to have someone to see past the fear I instill in anyone who crosses paths with me." He shrugged. "I didn't want you to feel like you had to feel for me, nor did I want you to feel responsible for anything that involves me. I'm not so cruel that I'll subject you to that, but it's too late, no? I put you in danger, and you don't owe it to me that I am protecting you or giving you everything I thought you would want while keeping a safe distance. Turns out I've hurt you more."

You were taken aback, to say the least.

"But I do care for you more than I can admit or fathom." He beamed disarmingly as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I am in too deep, and maybe I should just accept that I do love you."

"Satoru..."

"I love you, Y/N. Words are cheap, and it may be too late, but I really do." He placed his head on your shoulder as he embraced you, holding you tight, skin on skin. "But if you want to leave, I will let you. I will not be selfish and ask you to stay with me. I want you to do whatever you think is best for you without thinking of me."

Laughter wanted to escape from your throat, not because of mirth but from relief. But with that came the realization that you weren't free anymore, not where Gojo was concerned. He's setting you free, but the lock to your prison wasn't his to hold in the first place. You held yourself captive to him in the first place, locked yourself in, and threw the key away. Knowing he reciprocated your affection towards him just sealed you in a reinforced vault, dunked into the deepest trenches of the ocean that was his warmth. How the hell were you supposed to leave him now when you mistakenly thought you were grasping at straws when he was shackled to you all along?

Shrugging, you wrapped your arms around him, shaking your head at your foolishness. At this point, saying you didn't know what you were getting yourself into is a big, fat lie, and it was probably one you will never make the mistake of doing anyway, unable to deny yourself of what you wanted...what you needed.

"You really are a piece of work," you muttered.

"What did I do?" he whined like a child. In such moments, you almost always forget he was shy of a year to a decade older than you.

You chuckled, returning his words to him. "What makes you think you can just walk away now that I know?"

Gojo's head snapped up, now wearing a cheeky grin as he regarded you, his hands climbing up the back of your thighs before cupping your bare ass. "Is that so? I'm letting you do what you want, Y/N."

You scoffed. He's back to his usual self, toying with you, but you see the subtle difference in how he deals with you. "I am doing what I want right now."

"Going once..."

You relaxed in his hold.

"Twice?"

"No."

His expression turned dark, eyes hazy with lust as he drew you closer, making you sit directly on his half-hard cock. "You can't complain after this, you are aware, my love?"

Ah, the sound of that endearment rolling out of his tongue was music to your ears. Winding your arms around his neck, you leaned forward and ground your hips against his, relishing the soft groan that escaped his lips at the pressure. "Where do I sign?"

He pointed at his lips. "It's a lifetime agreement, mind you."

You wasted no time sealing your new pact, crashing your lips against his, a kiss that was sloppy at best, excitement and a mix of love and lust heavy on your tongue as you sought his, reveling in the taste of him which felt like the first time. Gojo was almost always dominant, but he didn't seem to mind that you were taking the lead this time, asserting your claim over him, unable to resist now that you've both gotten what you wanted from each other.

"Lucky for you, I don't want out."

~*~

I had fun with these. Wonder if I should do Geto, Sukuna and Choso as well... A little treat to quell the time I'm taking off of writing my ongoing Gojo smau cause I lost all my fucking files. Yay, me!

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

2K notes · View notes

mawofthemagnetar · 2 months

Text

TFC’s Completely Normal Afternoon Where Nothing Goes Wrong And Nobody Dies Horribly

(shoutout to @lindentree for inspiring this silly fic!)

TFC sat in his little bachelor pad, coffee in hand, watching the steam rise out of his mug.

It was a nice mug, all things considered. A gift from the other Hermits. A handmade blue thing, turned on a potter’s wheel, with an extra-large handle to give his old hands a break sometimes. Full of coffee from his ancient coffee machine, that gurgled and growled like a jackhammer being waterboarded.

TFC took a sip, and winced. Okay, so maybe it was time to leave the mine and get more coffee. He’d re-used the grounds for the fourth time, and now it was really starting to get properly bitter.

He drummed his fingers on his glass-top table, listening to the echo against the cold stone walls of his little antechamber. Maybe he’d decorate the walls at some point soon.

TFC shrugged, and opened his comm. Hopefully one of the other Hermits had some coffee beans. He wiped the stone dust off his screen, and held down the three buttons to switch it on. Yes, he kept his comm strapped to his arm like almost every other player with some semblance of sense. No, he refused to let the damn thing be awake for any longer than it needed to be. The Hermits were chatty folks, and when TFC was deep in his mines and deep in thought, the last thing he needed interrupting his musings was a million buzzing noises as Cleo and Jevin got into a slapfight in the general chat.

TFC’s personal logo flashed across the screen (the three letters of his name in red, natch) and he took another slurp of his bitter coffee, wrinkling his nose. The comm beeped, and TFC opened the group chat and tapped out a quick message.

<Tinfoilchef> anyone got any more coffee? I’m clean out.

He put his comm down, and took another swig.

And waited.

TFC frowned. He was a patient man by nature. The same could not be said of the other Hermits, who were usually falling over themselves to help each other out.

And he hadn’t gotten a reply yet.

It had been a whole ninety seconds.

TFC scrolled up in chat, and he sighed, rubbing his face. He sank back in his chair in annoyance.

Of course.

He tabbed upwards, watching things spiral out of control… in reverse.

<Renthedog> THE PAIN! THE PAIN IS INDESCRIBABLE

<Vintagebeef> RUN! THE BOATS! THE BOATS ARE COMING!

TFC rubbed his temples with his free hand, sighing in exasperation. ‘

“Guys, I dug up five stacks of diamonds, don’t make me do this…I don’t want to re-dig those tunnels…” TFC groaned.

And of course the nonsense kept coming as he scrolled farther and farther back. Gee, that last message from Ren was about four hours ago, now...

<Iskall85> HELP GOD THE LOOM’S GROWN LEGS

“Does anyone on this server besides me even know HOW to weave?!” TFC growled, averting his gaze from his pile of unfinished weaving in the corner of the room. It didn’t exist. He couldn’t see it. His WIP’s couldn’t hurt him.

And on and on it went.

“Right, I’ve seen enough.” TFC sighed, “On the bright side, at least I’ll have all the coffee I had a week ago, so there’s that…”

He carefully tabbed through his various screens and menus until he arrived at the one bit of his comm that was set aside for admin functions. Now, TFC wasn’t a server admin. That much was true. But he had slight admin privileges, for one thing and one thing only: server rollbacks.

While, say, Hypno would have had an extensive wall of options, showing his permissions and all sorts of bells and whistles, TFC’s admin console had a text box to input a date and a big red “GO” button.

He looked mournfully at his ender chest, and, with a sigh, keyed in a date one week prior.

And TFC jabbed his thumb on the big red button.

The world flashed white, utterly blinding him, and a second later TFC was deep in the branch mine in a half-finished tunnel, the same spot he’d been exactly a week prior.

Unfortunately, he was still in a comfortable sitting position, resting all his weight on a chair that suddenly wasn’t there, so he immediately toppled to the ground, landing on his ass in an undignified heap.

“Ow.” TFC muttered, sitting up slowly and tapping through his messages.

<Xisuma> oh, we rolled back. Is everyone alright!?

<Tango> Mumbo you are BANNED FROM TIME TRAVEL

<MumboJumbo> It wasn’t me this time! I mean it was. But blame Zedaph!

<Zedaph> ME?! No! Blame Cub! Cub gave me the doodad!

TFC rolled his eyes and typed out a message.

<Tinfoilchef> Does anyone have any fresh coffee beans?

Silence.

No messages. No new complaining. As all the hermits re-read TFC’s words and soaked them in.

Finally, Cleo broke the silence.

<Zombiecleo> TFC. How many times did you re-use your last filter of grounds.

<TinfoilChef> eh, six? Seven?

<Zombiecleo> are you telling me we’d all still be in shuttlecock hell if you hadn’t gotten sick of the taste of reused coffee grinds?!

<TinfoilChef> Pretty much, yeah

<TinfoilChef> anyway

<TinfoilChef> does anyone have some fresh coffee?

#magnetar writes #Hermitcraft fic #TFC fic

315 notes · View notes

theroadtofairyland · 9 months

Text

Corny Jokes

Watercolor On Black Paper

2023, 9"x 12"

Blue Bachelor Buttons, Cornflowers, Centaurea

Private Collection

352 notes · View notes

fleur-aesthetic · 9 months

Text

instagram | blowyinthewind

#flowers #floral #daisy #cosmos #bachelor’s buttons #sweetpeas #bouquet #aesthetic #pink #white #yellow #blue #orange #red

418 notes · View notes

kedsandtubesocks · 1 month

Text

this high of you & me

Lucien Flores x F!Reader

summary: Lucien Flores is your weed dealer and you think that’s about it

warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI. dealer!Lucien AU, drug use and discussion, shotgunning, sweet giggly moments, mentions of unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Lucien is older) reader and Lucien under the influence but he’s still a consent king, one use of ‘good girl,’ light making out

word count: 1.4k

a/n: I wrote this in a possessed fever after that clip & I know this might not reflect his personality once the movie comes out but I just had to I’m sorry, thank you to @lowlights & @tightjeansjavi for letting me scream about this and if you decide to read this - know I’m thanking you a million times

His house is an eclectic mess.

There’s a framed photo of Gustav Klmit’s ‘The Kiss’ beside a black light poster of a tiger. His awful leather black couch screams of a bachelor refusing to grow up.

“All I have to drink is bad tap water, ginger ale, or a mini grey goose sample.” Lucien yells from his kitchen.

“Uh, the ginger ale is fine.” You answer back.

This is the first time you’ve ever been alone with him.

Normally you’ve only experienced him with your best friend and his boyfriend. They’re the ones, through a friend of a friend, who introduced you to Lucien.

That’s how he became your dealer.

Now as you try to seem busy, you scan the book shelves in his living room.

There are many things that catch your eye -

The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo, a very abstract but suggestively sexual mini sculpture of two beings entangled in a type of wave like motion, a clear quartz crystal and a cute elephant figurine.

The man known as Lucien Flores is no short close to a chaotic puff of smoke you think you’re never meant to catch.

Behind you, you hear him rearranging things on his coffee table.

“You gonna joint me, or not?”

His pun makes you snort.

On the glass coffee table sits your drink among a cluttered collection of things.

“You asked for the usual right?” He mutters preparing everything like someone out a check out counter.

“Yeah, but I can go after you give me the- ”

“No, no it’s all good.” He reassures quickly, cutting you off. “I got nothing planned and company is always nice.”

He packages up the weed in the typical baggies he uses. This time they're holographic blue, almost matching his charming but strange vibes in a strange way.

“What happened to the dragon ball z themed bags you had?” You ask jokingly.

“Ran out.” He pouts and you grin.

After separating and packing up everything, he moves to start grinding the weed. Then with a click on his remote his stereo flows to life.

Frank Ocean’s ‘Pink + White’ begins playing and illuminates the room.

Small talk comes. Lucien asks about how work is going, any new shows you’ve gotten into.

He’s charming, like a bizzare off highway tourist attraction you can’t seem to leave.

“No need to sit on the floor. Come on. Spots open right here.” Lucien grins patting the couch beside him.

“Your couch is a pain, hate how it sticks to me.” You reply with a scrunch up face.

“Maybe I want you to keep sticking to it?” He offers light and you roll your eyes.

Being a notorious flirt, you try not to fall under his sweet words spell.

You’re about to make a quip back until you see him yank out a fuzzy blanket and spread it across the couch.

“What a gentleman.” You dryly smirk and Lucien shrugs.

But you rise up to sit besides him, close but not comfortably so.

“How much extra is this gonna cost me hm?” You muse watching him pack the bowl.

“Don’t you know the old saying, pretty babes don’t pay?” Lucien remarks so effortlessly.

Your throat gets a bit dry and you’re thankful for the ginger ale wetting your lips.

The lovely glass pipe, swirled with so many unique colors like the silk button up shirts Lucien wears, is handed to you.

“You first.” Lucien grins.

He even lights it for you, a modern day chivalrous knight in his own fucked up unique way.

The first inhale is always a favorite of yours. The smoke fills you, tickles your senses. But you can’t help but cough a bit.

“That’s the good stuff, huh baby?”

The phrasing and how smug his voice purrs out is dangerous.

“It’s one of the new strands I’ve been wanting to try. S’called ‘girl scout cookie.’ Pretty sweet name huh? But kinda makes me wish I could eat some right about now, ya know.” Lucien rambles as you hand the pipe back to him.

You at least appreciate how talkative and alluring he is. Between passing the pipe back and forth to him, you’re pulled into discussions about aliens, music and then, YouTube videos.

“No,” you giggle. “You gotta see this one.”

“If it’s another sad cat video I’m gonna cry and kick you out.” He pouts and you’re overcome with the urge to lean forward and kiss the furrow in between his brows.

You can’t deny how handsome he is. Like, ridiculously so. You know he’s older but there’s a youthfulness to him that’s reassuring. Like his spirit will always stay free. But you know that also seems dangerous after hearing about the list of exes he had from your best friend’s friend.

So very cautiously you tread into this new territory, whatever it is.

You lean closer, hold your phone up and show him your favorite go to funny video.

You can’t even stop the giggles. You wanna blame the weed, but it’s so hard not to laugh even without it. You’re overcome with glee and lean against Lucien’s shoulder. His shoulders shake and you hear the most adorable twinkling giggle.

He’s laughing.

“See!” You urge. “Told you it’s funny!”

“It’s not that! It’s you! You’re making me laugh.” He wheezes out and your heart flutters.

“Then I’ll stop laughing so you can stop laughing and watch!” You reply back determined.

So pressing your lips together, you rewind the video. You and him stay silent. Or you try to. Your lips twitch so terrible wanting to break.

Then Lucien’s shoulders shake again. In seconds you’re both busting out laughing. Your poor phone is forgotten.

This time he howls with an infectious joy and you feel it in your gut, in your bones.

“You weren’t supposed to laugh!” You chide him through the giggles.

“You weren’t either!” He cackles.

You realize you’re practically draped against him, and Lucien even fully leans back into you.

The smoke, the drug, coats everything in a smokey soft haze and with the high creeping its way into your mind, a molteness seeps into you

Lucien smells so good too, clean, cozy, but also like a cologne you wish you could pinpoint.

“Thanks, it’s dolce and gabbana.” Lucien replies.

Your face ignites in flames realizing you must have spoken your thoughts out loud.

You’re about to scramble out from this mess when you peer up and find Lucien staring. His earth soil eyes, softly dusted with a rosy color, hazily watch you.

“Y’smell good too.” He mumbles back.

“Thanks, it’s my fabric softener.” You tell him.

Lucien busts out laughing, a bright firework of a thing and you once again get caught up in how wildly warm he is.

Shaking his head he shifts to grab the pipe.

But his hand slides to rest against your thigh, like it’s a small way of saying don’t move, don’t leave.

And you don’t.

“You wanna try something fun?” He offers.

“Sure.” You don’t know what you might have just agreed too.

Lucien maneuvers, slides his large warm hand to your face and your heart stops. He tilts your head towards him and his thumb softly rubs against you.

“You trust me?”

The soft lull of Frank Ocean continues playing in the background softening this world around you.

You don’t even know if this man has a middle name or not, but you know him enough, or mainly, find yourself wanting to melt more into him.

So you nod quietly.

“Good girl, just keep your mouth open.”

That line takes your breath away.

You have an idea of what’s coming, but even with that, you crumble.

Lucien inhales from the pipe, filling his mouth with smoke. In a blur he moves. It’s like you blink and he’s all around you.

His hand on your face, his body pressed up flush against you and then, his face slowly moving towards you.

With his lips open, he breathes the smoke into your waiting mouth and your eyes shut in bliss. His lips graze against yours, a tease.

You inhale on instinct. Yet your hands move on their own, possessed, to run against his warm broad chest.

Once the smoke is in your mouth and you hold it in, allowing this mixture of the smoke and him to consume you. You also don’t miss the way Lucien himself breathes out.

Then before you can close your mouth, he lets his tongue gently swipe at your top lip, a kitten-like lick.

But it’s divine.

When a soft whine escapes you, Lucien effortlessly dives in to kiss you, cradling your face and steals your breath away again.

Making out with your dealer could probably be one of the dumbest decisions ever. But he’s a unique high of his own, one making you so dizzy, but you think you don't want it to end just yet.

So you melt into this smoke and into him.

And it’s otherworldly bliss.

#I’m so sorry this took over and it’s probably mess but I had to #but here’s to Lucien bringing us into a frenzy I love you #Lucien Flores x reader #lucien flores x you #Lucien x reader #Lucien Flores x f!reader #dealer!Lucien #Lucien 🤎

197 notes · View notes

rachalixie · 1 year

Text

the best man - part I

your best friend's getting married, and you're the maid of honor. minho is the best man. you're just trying your best to not let him get under your skin. pt II

warnings: lee minho x she/her!reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers

word count: 1.4k

one could say that lee minho was a thorn in your side, but he wasn’t enough for that. he’s maybe a bump. a small bump in the road you’ve been driving on, a constant presence but not enough to make a difference to your wheels if you drive over it. enough for you to notice but not enough for you to swerve to avoid.

he’s friends with your friends, so naturally, he’s around a lot. ever since your best friend got engaged to his best friend, jisung, he’s been around even more. in a few short months he’s gone from someone you nod at from the bar at group outings to the person you bump shoulders with when wedding planning in a tiny kitchen. from a person who’s number you didn’t have saved in groupchats to having a personalized contact complete with emojis. with him as jisung’s best man and you as the maid of honor, you’ve frequently been on opposing sides of friendly arguments about the cake, the flowers, the music that should be played. you’re convinced that he disagrees with you just to rile you up, he’s never passionate about his side and always sways to what you and your friend want in the end, he just does it for the entertainment.

you wish you found it annoying instead of endearing. that would make things simpler.

but it was in planning their surprise bachelor-slash-bachelorette party (you knew those two would never be able to separate enough for an entire night) that you got to know him well. in between choosing the types of shots you want to serve and the perfect cheesy crowns for them to wear, you learn that he has three cats that he loves more than himself, he’s really sweet underneath his teasing exterior, and that he’s a gentleman that always opens doors for you and gives you his jacket when he sends you home at night after being there for longer than you planned for. he likes to cook and he’s a dancer who once had big dreams but found his true passion in teaching it. he likes to work out but complains about it every time and he’s kind of the biggest dork you’ve ever met.

he grows on you like moss, the healthy green squishy kind, slowly taking over your roots until he’s become a part of your day to day life. you’ve come to expect daily weather updates, selfies with his cats, and mindless banter from the time you wake up until the time your head hits your pillow at night.

the actual night of the party goes off without a hitch, with drinks flowing and sappy speeches that have you wiping your tears discreetly to not ruin your makeup. you’ve both curated the perfect playlist, invited only the essential people you know the almost-married couple would want there, and made an entire table of snacks that got devoured before you can blink. you meet minho’s eyes from across the room several times throughout the night, a hidden meaning you can’t place hiding in his gaze before he looks away every time. it leaves you with a feeling of longing that you don’t let yourself think about for too long. the maid of honor and the best man? that’s too cliche, even for you.

you don’t see him again until the day of the wedding, where you both leave your respective dressing rooms at the same time to get ready to walk down the aisle and take your places at the altar.

“you clean up well,” you tease, running a finger down the lapel of his tuxedo. it’s midnight blue, the color that jisung has chosen to compliment the flushed pink of the bridesmaid’s dresses. it compliments his honeyed skin almost too well, the contrast making him look like he’s about to walk a red carpet instead of the off-white runner lining the wedding hall floor. the flower buttoned to his chest matches the ones in your bouquet.

“it’s been known to happen from time to time,” his tone is teasing but his smile is soft as he takes you in, winking at you when you raise an eyebrow at him. “you don’t look so bad, yourself.”

you look down at your flowers with a small smile, still not knowing how to take his compliments after all these months.

“shall we?” he holds his arm out to you and you take it, calming your nerves before stepping through the doors to the sea of people in the room. he walks you down the aisle, steps in line with yours despite his legs being longer, and it feels right, being there with him.

he drops you off at your designated spot and you’re glad; you’re not sure if you would have remembered where to stand otherwise. you’re both beaming as jisung walks down the aisle, steps a little too eager and smile a little too wide. it warms your heart how happy he is to be married to your best friend. the same best friend who next glides down the aisle in a show of practiced elegance, steps timed perfectly to the wedding march playing.

you meet eyes with minho once they’re situated, blown away again by him in the new warm lighting that he’s shrouded under. his hair is glinting in the afternoon sun, eyes sparkling, and his smile despite being on display for everyone feels like it’s just for you. you’re so distracted by him in his damn tuxedo that you almost miss when your friend starts her vows. by the time she’s done, both the bride and groom are nearly sobbing, and jisung has to choke out his own vows before dragging her into a watery kiss before the officiant can tell him to. the whole room breaks into laughter, softening into awh’s when he pulls back with a heart shaped smile.

the rest of the day is a blur. you take photos, make speeches at the reception, change into comfortable shoes, eat the cake that’s just been cut, and by the time you finally sit down to watch the first dance you feel like you’ve been standing for days. is this what it’s like to get married? doesn’t seem like it’s worth the trouble.

“dance with me?” minho says, interrupting your internal monologue and making the smile return to your face. his hand is held out towards you, palm up, and you take it in yours without a second thought. a chance to dance with the most handsome guy in the room? no way you’re going to pass that up, even if your feet feel like they’re on fire.

he guides you to the dance floor, stopping a few feet from the happy couple and bumping his free fist against jisung’s shoulder before wrapping an arm around you. you twine your hands together behind his neck and smile at him.

“all this planning and i never learned how to slow dance,” you say, voice low as you try not to let the embarrassment wash over you.

“don’t worry, darling,” he tugs you closer, the name he calls you bringing a flush to your cheeks. “i can lead you.”

and lead he does. he twirls you around the dance floor, the bottom of your dress swinging around your feet as he gracefully makes it look like you know what you’re doing. you let him move you, your limbs pliant as he sways your hips in his grip. the two of you somehow look like the most practiced couple there because of him.

the song switches to something faster and more upbeat, but he doesn’t let you go. in fact, he pulls you in even closer, whispering in your ear about how he loves the song before guiding you to dance with him again.

the night ends with the two of you in the hotel elevator, on the way up to your respective rooms on the same floor. without warning, his hand goes to hit the stop button and the elevator jerks to a still, making your heart beat race.

“what the hell?” you almost yell, too shocked to be mad. he moves into your space, placing warm hands on your cheeks.

“am i reading this wrong?” he whispers, eyes flickering between your own and your lips. it falls into place like jenga bricks, messy and out of your control but not completely unexpected - this attraction between you? he feels it too.

“no,” you whisper back, melting as he finally seals his lips against yours.

turns out the maid of honor with the best man isn’t too cliche after all.

part II

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids drabbles #stray kids fic #lee know fluff #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #stray kids soft thoughts #stray kids scenarios

1K notes · View notes

shamrockqueen · 2 months

Text

Omega retreat : Chapter 2

Pairing: Alpha Bucky × Omega Reader

Warnings: R18, Eventual Smut, Not what it seems, talk of medical issues/illness, dating site, ABO dynamics

Word count: 2477

Chapter 1

Bucky masterlist

Summary: As an unmarked and lonely omega you find a flyer for a service called The Omega Retreat.

You are paired with a compatible alpha to spend your heat or just a week at a luxurious cabin at a forest resort. Amenities and Utilities included. Enjoy the beautiful scenery, fresh air, as well as the company of an alpha of your choosing. What could possibly go wrong?

The blue screen of your laptop lit up the dark and gloomy room as you booted it up and set your sights on the internet explorer icon.

Your eyes shift back and forth from the slightly crunched flier to the keyboard as you type up the website in the search bar.

Upon clicking enter, there is a cascade of red and pink hearts across the screen before the main page comes into view.

From the photos, it seems kind of like a glamping thing, with each couple or pairing having their own semi-remote cabin.

Singles retreats weren’t a new concept—not that you’ve ever been to one, but this would be a whole week alone with a stranger, a man, an alpha.

That familiar twang of anxiety twisted in your chest at the thought, only for it to be snuffed out by another.

‘We all have to grow up at some point’.

You eyed the two packages listed on the screen, one labeled as Silver and the other Gold. The silver package went by, Forget me knot.” and you felt yourself chuckle a little at how cheesy it sounded. It was a 4-day stay at one of the cabins with an alpha provided by the website's dating algorithm.

The Gold package had another cheesy line listed as “Heat of the Night." It listed a full-week stay for the duration of the omega’s heat with your new Alpha.

The prospect was, of course, very tantalizing, but it still didn’t fail to make you nervous. You had never spent a heat with someone before, and it seemed a little scary. Was a week with a stranger worth seeing what you were missing out on?

You clicked the icon for the Gold package without thinking further, blinking at the screen as it shifted to the sign-up page. You’d only wanted further info but it looked like only members could access it. It was, however, free to sign up, a claim made by many websites and apps before it. Yet, even at the free level, it seemed you could at least get to look at the Alpha bachelors they had in their database. Just another step to pull you in closer to spending the big bucks.

It asked for a photo at first, making you hesitate before finally deciding on one simple photo of yourself. It had been your birthday, and your mother was by your side, hugging your shoulder. You had to crop out most of your mom, but your big smile still beamed just as brightly across the screen. You typed in a shortened version of your name for your little profile, along with your age, before clicking the next button.

The page flipped to a quick questionnaire, asking about your likes and dislikes—everything from your bedtime routine to your bedroom habits. It barely toed the line of TMI, but you supposed it had to be thorough to find you a match. You clicked through each question, making sure every answer felt right. Before you could tell, it had been half an hour and you were only almost finished. You snuggled yourself into your plush couch as you finally clicked the submit button.

A little spinning heart pops up on the scream alongside ‘finding your perfect match’ underneath it. The heart spun around on the screen until the loading bar hit 100 and the page shifted over to show your results.

Your eyes widen at the selection of handsome men flooding the screen. There are more Alphas flashing over your computer than you’ve ever seen in one small space, and already there are too many to choose from.

Part of you figured that to a seasoned romantic, it would seem like small potatoes, but to you, it was more men than you knew what to do with. The only distraction that could tear your eyes away was a heart-shaped character at the corner of the screen babbling away in a little text box. His happy little demeanor reminds you of a certain talking paperclip from old office software. Only you found this little guy less irritating.

‘We have selected 20 of your most suitable partners. Please choose from the profiles below to chat and find your match.’

You clicked the speech bubble away, only for another to pop up.

‘Don’t forget to check out our selection of getaways for your official meetup’ popped up across the page.

You clicked again, and another bubble came after.

‘If for any reason you are unsatisfied with your matches, please take the quiz again.’

You take the little heart man’s words into consideration before clicking back towards the alpha profiles.

The first was a rough-looking man named Brock. Too macho for your type, and you shied away from his profile immediately.

The next one was a sweet, gentle-looking man named Steve. He seemed really interested in a lifetime mate, but as romantic as it seemed, you just weren’t too sure that was what you wanted just yet.

It was a little overwhelming. All these men were stunning, and yet the scared little omega inside of you kept turning tail at the gleam of each of their smiles, leading you to click at the next button again and again.

You’d gone through 12 profiles until you stopped on his picture. His brown hair sat at the base of his neck, looking soft and supple enough to tangle your fingers through, and his smile was immediately infectious.

The name James ‘Bucky’ Barnes sat below the photo in bold, but you barely noticed as your gaze locked on his light, smiling blue eyes.

You feel both your heart and your core flutter, leading to a wave of warmth and a bit of unearned embarrassment. You didn’t think any further before clicking his profile, showing you more about this ‘Bucky’.

It gave a broad list of hobbies, his likes and dislikes, as well as so many more dreamy photos.

His profiles stated he was interested in a mate but “wanted to test the waters first." Not interested in being too serious, but not scared of a commitment.

Even though this man seemed like an absolute dream, you couldn’t help but second-guess yourself. Yet, the butterflies in your stomach overpowered the worries in the back of your mind. You let your cursor hover over the match button on his profile before slowly clicking down on the mouse and watching with bated breath as the screen changed again.

That little heart man, now less animated, was the last sight you saw after you clicked. He was accompanied by a few speech bubbles saying, “The alpha you have chosen will be notified; please feel free to browse our events as you wait.”

The word ‘events’ was lit up in another color separate from the text and clearly a link to the rest of the website. At the end of the day, they WERE trying to sell you something, but curiosity got the better of you, and you clicked the link without another thought.

You looked over the two packages they offered and let your cursor hover over the gold package. You stared at its short description, comparing it with the smaller vacation bundle that sat beside it on the screen. You think it over and cautiously click on the icon.

The prices were the first thing that struck you, as none of them were very expensive for what they were advertising. Saving a few bucks always seemed to sweeten the deal, but it really made it all seem too good to be true.

The resort has a full staff available in case of an emergency and are simply a call away. All meals would come in the form of meal kits or ready-made gourmet dinners, as well as a selection of wine and spirits for those 21 and over.

There was a little policy note at the bottom, in smaller letters.

“All reservations are refundable upon cancellation 7 days before the date of the reservation. If you cancel your stay after 7 days, you will be charged a cancellation fee. In the event that your desired partner declines your match, you will be prompted to choose another alpha from the list given to you.”

The idea of being rejected by a stranger online made some of the appeal wear thin. You x-ed out of the pop-up, only to notice a notification lighting up your screen.

He had matched with you immediately, causing another flutter of hearts to pulse over the computer for one moment. On the little message icon sat the number one to indicate somebody had reached out to you, and you clicked on it right away.

The chat room opens up on your screen to show a little chat box bubble saying, “Hi beautiful ;)". The old-style winky face gave his age away and made some of the insecurities in your belly melt.

This 'James' had matched you so soon, and to have him reach out to you on your screen still made you nervous.

The bouncing dots popped up below the first message to indicate he was still typing. You're frozen on the spot as the messages just keep popping up.

“Hello?”

It seemed a bit impatient, but you didn’t think to care; you were too thrilled by this new encounter.

“Hi, sorry, I was..” Oh god, what could you say? “…away from the phone.” Not true, but telling your possible new beau that you were frozen with fear upon seeing his message seemed, well, lame.

“That’s ok.”

“You new here? I haven’t seen your profile before.”

“Yeah. I just signed up.”

“Does that mean I was your first choice? ;)”

You felt you should be honest after your previous fib, and answered immediately.

“ I just saw your profile and clicked it right away. I didn’t expect you to get back to me so soon.”

“Leave a beautiful Omega like you waiting? Not a chance, doll.”

Every word made the air grow thinner, making your head just swim in the rising heat that started to subtly overtake your body. It was such a new feeling to have warmth in your body feel so good.

Those three dots danced across his next speech bubble, and you waited every second for his next word.

“Have you ever been with an alpha before? I’d hate to come on too strong and scare you away.”

Your breath felt shallow before you answered truthfully. “No, I haven’t.”

There have only ever been two people you’ve given yourself to like that. Two particularly nice betas who just couldn’t help you as you needed, but tried anyway. Being with an Alpha seemed like so much more of a big deal, but the idea of a big, horny monster sinking their teeth into your flesh makes you start to hyperventilate. It was permanent, and you didn’t want to just throw away your forever to someone who could be cruel to you.

But something about this felt different. He looked so soft and kind, you could nearly feel his finger gently caressing your cheek as each word popped up on your screen. Something about this encounter felt safe.

You typed without thinking, letting the question fill the screen as anxiety ate away at the warmth that once sat in your belly. “Does that bother you?”

You waited for a response, watching those little dots until they disappeared without a new message. A solid minute felt like an eternity, and your heart sank further as each one ticked by.

You typed out a quick “I’m sorry," hoping you weren’t the one scaring him off instead with your lack of experience.

You breathed a sigh of relief as his response popped up. “Do not be sorry. There is no problem with wanting to wait.” Followed by another “I feel like a lucky guy.”

“I guess I’m just a little embarrassed; I’m glad it doesn’t bother you.” You typed away, fully engrossed in his attention.

“Don’t be; that kind of thing means more than you’d think in this day in age.”

It popped across your screen, giving you much-needed relief, only for the next message to set your nerves ablaze all over again.

“What made you decide to join the site?”

It popped over your screen faster than you could shoo it away. The reason for you was obvious after dragging yourself through that doctor's office. You needed help, and somehow that simple red flier had shown out to you like a beacon on a stormy shore.

You wanted to be honest, but some things felt better kept close to yourself than within the reach of others. You answered with the shallow truth.

“Dating can be difficult. I found the advertisement today and decided to check things out.” You tapped the enter button and sent the message, but your fingers continued to type. Maybe it was an attempt to keep his questions from probing into your answer even further, as you sent him an inquiry of your own.

“What about you? What made you decide to join the website?”

The laptop sat silently, aside from the whirring of its little fan. No bouncing dots, no indication of his response. Maybe his reasons were somehow more personal than your own.

You began to lose a little faith as the chat room continued to sit empty until his chat bubble finally popped up. Each second it took for the words to show was a second too long.

“I’d say it’s about the same. I guess I just wanted to try something different.”

“And how’s it working out so far?”

“I’d say, far better since you popped up.”

It was such a cliche line, but you loved it. You even laughed a little as you typed back.

“That fast, huh? It’s been less than a day "

“But you’ve already made my whole week.”

It brought an immediate smile to your rosy face. It was so fun—almost a fantasy. No danger, no recourse, no fear. You looked back at his little picture on the screen, his smiling face; it was a far cry from any other alpha already, and you hadn’t even seen him in the very flesh.

But it had been less than a day, and it was an obvious blow to this little oasis that had built around you in the matter of minutes. You didn’t want this moment to end, not when reality was waiting for you afterward.

The hours passed as you did each playful word with this ‘James’.

“I can’t wait to meet you, Omega.”

Your heart fluttered to an unnatural rhythm the moment it popped onto your screen.

"Omego,” you repeated his use of your denomination.

For a whole week, you could be the omega to his Alpha. You thought about the glamorous getaways your matchmaker had advertised. So you thought that, just maybe, that could be you.

Chapter 3

Tag List : @bethyruth-deactivated20231124 @scott-loki-barnes @wintrsoldrluvr

267 notes · View notes

carionto · 4 months

Text

The duality of Man, or triality? quadrality?

Alien to Human about New Human: Correct me if I'm wrong, but they appear abnormally large for your species?

H: Yea, he's a biggun alright, even without the EV suit I'd say... 7'3'', 310 pounds, bet he power lifts.

A: Umm... not to be rude, but, uhh... he seems, well... how should I put this...

H: Intimidating? Terrifying? Evil? Yea, if this station didn't have high screening standards I'd be totally pissing myself if he started walking towards me. The mohawk and eye tat totally make me believe he could snap me in two with a single glare.

A: I feel ashamed that my instincts are telling me to flee. I wish nature were easier to change.

H (shouting at NH): Hey buddy! Could you come over here for a minute please? You look awesome by the way!

A (whispering nervously): what are you doing?!?

H: Gotta overcome those fears somehow, I believe the best way is a direct confrontation.

NH approaches, somewhat slowly, looking around at all the other aliens in the station that are chatting, waiting around, or doing some work. He finally approaches A and H, and in a very deep and husky voice says: Um, hi, hello. T-thanks for the compliment, I, uh, was a little worried I would stand out too much here.

H: Oh you totally do, my friend over here is practically about to pass out from how much like a gothic viking of death metal you look.

NH: Oh no, I'm so sorry, I-I just grew up in Sweden-Delta and both my parents were huge into classic local music, so I just, uh... it's complicated. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare anyone.

H: Hey, relax pal, we're all good people here. Anyway, what you here to do? I'm planning on starting a bakery, still testing out what kind of flour most species here can actually stomach. My friend here is on the team working on Moon theft preventative measures.

NH: Oh, that's cool. I'm here as an exchange student with the department of applied astrophysics. If all goes well, I can finish my Bachelors degree remotely and stay here as an intern with the head researcher.

H: Oooh, that's cool. (so cool yea that you're apparently half my age but oh well guess I'm a big fat time waster like my father before me and oh god change the subject before I get depressed in front of strangers) That's a real big bag you got there, carrying some super secret science things, eh?

NH: Oh, that... uhh... guess it can't hurt to tell, security vetted it already anyway.

NH proceeds to unzip the bag and hold up a large white piece of clothing with light blue rings and accents, alongside a strange white cap with what looked like small fins, and a curious little backpack.

NH: It's uhh... um... my... Ika... musume... cosplay.... (oh gods I can't believe I said it out loud again)

After a moment of awkward silence, NH slowly puts on the backpack and presses a button on it's strap, and suddenly numerous light blue colored tentacle-like appendages sprout out from the backpack and move in line with NH's movements.

NH: I, uh..., got my engineering friend to make them articulate and interface with my contacts. I can make them do all sorts of things, like make various shapes and animals with them, though works best as a shadow theater.

H:...

NH:...

A now frozen out of confusion than fear:...

H: That's so

NH: (oh I know it's so lame, but I love that show)-

H: COOL! I don't know what a ika musume is, but those things look amazing. You said articulate? How precise can they be? I'd love to have something like that instead of my useless assistant. Poor lad can't make a piece of toast if his life depended on it...

NH: Y-you like it?

H: I LOVE those things. My daughter does cosplay too sometimes, but she makes her Dreadnought suits herself from scraps. One time the military came to our house and installed a limiter on the gauss cannon she found in a crash site, said it would otherwise start to generate small doses of radiation if used too frequently. But she replaced it with a handmade rail gun before the next convention. Do you go to those? Did you see a 7 meter tall hulking metal monstrosity with a bunch of candles all over? That was her.

NH: Oh, I think I've seen video of that, but no, not in person, I go to smaller events. I don't really like big crowds.

H: Oh yea, I get ya, you do seem a bit on the shy side now that we've been talking for a bit. Hey, no worries, like I said, we're all good people here.

NH: T-thanks, but I think I should be going now, the teacher is calling me over.

H: Oh yea, go ahead, didn't mean to take up so much of your time. Have a fun stay and I'm sure you'll ace that paper or theory? Or whatever astrophysicists do, you seem like a solid kid.

NH: Oh, uh, thanks. Good luck with your bakery. And you with stopping those weird people from stealing more moons. Bye.

H: Bye bye, come visit, don't be a stranger now, I'm set up just a short bit from the main lift on floor 14.

NH: R-right, I'll, uh, be sure to stop by soon.

A is finally able to process what they just heard and says: What was all that just now?

H: What? Just a friendly chat with what is apparently basically a kid. Man, this kid's got so much going on, while I'm almost 50 and I have an oven. Life, man, it can go in so many ways. Anyway, let's go grab a drink, I'm parched.

310 notes · View notes

billthedrake · 6 months

Text

HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS (PART THREE)

"Wow, you went all out, Coach," I said as I helped him set out the food on the table.

He gave a grin and replied, "Just my bachelor holiday dinner... thanks for sharing it with me, Russ."

"My pleasure," I said.

Ed had in his hand a bigger sized bottle of beer, which he opened. "Feel like sharing my Christmas present?"

I nodded. "Just a half glass," I said. "Gotta drive back." I wasn't a big beer guy, but I didn't want to turn down Coach S's offer. "Who's the gift from?" I asked.

"Matt Reynolds," he replied as he poured my glass half full then set to give himself some. "He and I are both into beer." Coach Reynolds was the high school's head football coach.

I held up my glass. "It makes sense, but I guess I never thought of teachers hanging out together outside of school."

He held up his glass and gave a silent toast. Then he replied with a smirk, "I'll admit get along better with some of the teachers more than others. Matt's my closest friend." Ed got a little shy as he added, "He's the only one who I've come out to, actually."

"Coach Reynolds?" I responded, incredulously.

That made Ed laugh. "Um, yeah. You surprised?"

I nodded. "The guy's a total meathead. Yeah, I'm surprised."

My former teacher shrugged. God, he was so handsome and adorable. I was glad we'd gotten the sex out of the way, so I could actually carry on a conversation with the man. "People have a way of surprising you, Russ."

"Sometimes not for the better," I said. Then realizing I might have come across as snotty or cynical, I added. "Sorry... I guess I'm still a little bitter from the way Zach Martin treated me." Zach and I had been friends since 6th grade, but he stopped talking to me when I came out.

I saw a look of real empathy on Coach S's face. "Sorry, Russ," he said. "I didn't know the full story, but I know you went through a lot."

"You do learn who your real friends are," I said, my tone less bitter than my words now. "I realize now that Zach is just crazy insecure, and I just got caught up in that."

Ed nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised if Zach is gay himself."

I don't know why that didn't occur to me. "You think?"

He nodded. "Don't take it to the bank. It's just a hunch. But I know when I was that age, I was so freaked out someone would figure out... I may have been an asshole to a few guys just so I could fit in."

"Damn, Coach," I said.

He seemed embarrassed now. "I never had a friend come out to me, and I don't know what I would have done if I had. I'd like to think I'd do the right thing, but you never know." He took a sip. "I just know I was MAJORLY fucked up about the gay thing. Playing sports didn't help." I knew Ed Stanley was opening himself up to me, maybe in a way that wasn't easy for him. "I always admired how you handled things, Russ."

That surprised me. "In what way?"

He looked at his beer glass as he reflected on my question. "I don't know. You seemed confident in yourself." He looked back up at me. "Whatever... I know being a teenager isn't easy and probably wasn't for you either. Teachers don't know all that's going on, but we have more of an idea than our students realize."

I laugh. "Probably, yeah." Then, "truth be told, being an adult isn't always easy either."

That made Ed smile. I loved his smile. "You got that right," he said. "There's one big consolation prize, though," he said. "What we did just now," Ed added with an impish grin.

"You mean the fucking?" I clarified.

His blue eyes twinkled. "Yeah, the fucking. Maybe I shouldn't admit this, but that was the hottest sex of my life."

Damn, this man knew how to push my buttons. "I'm honored," I said. "So maybe I shouldn't admit it was the hottest sex of my life, too."

"Well, here's to hot sex," Ed toasted.

I laughed and matched his toast.

We talked a little less as we dug into the food. I don't think I realized how much the sex had worked up my appetite, and Ed seemed to be in the same boat.

But as our eating pace slowed, I had to ask the question on my mind. "So, Ed..." I started. "Why did you let this happen... You know, between us?"

He seemed to anticipate my question. "I got tired of putting my life on hold. I broke things off with Jessica two years ago," he explained about his former fiancee. "It was around the holidays, actually, and I guess I realize I'm still not happy." He gave me a little wince of a smile. "Seriously, having you keep me company has made my year."

My heart pounded. "Damn, Coach. I'm having a blast. Not only the sex, but all of it."

"You know, for a college kid, you're pretty damn mature."

"Hardly," I laughed. "I know this sounds cheesy, Coach, but for me, being gay... well, I just love other guys. Love spending time with them, in whatever way clicks." I found myself the one being embarrassed. "I guess I craved the male bonding I didn't always have."

"Remind me to punch Zach Martin's lights out next time I see him," Coach said. And it took me a second to realize he was joking.

I laughed. "Please do. The fucker."

Ed pushed his chair back. "Let me clear the dishes. I have some dessert if you have room."

"I have room," I said. "But I'm helping you."

I got up and started picking up out dinner plates. As I brought them into the kitchen, I could see out the window, into Ed Stanley's back yard.

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed.

"What?" Ed asked, concerned.

"It's a blizzard out there," I said. I set down the dishes by the sink and walked over to the sliding glass door.

I was exaggerating, but it was really coming down now, and several inches of white stuff lay on the ground, the reflected light making the dusk seem less dim.

I felt his presence behind me, his hand touching my waist. It was a simple gesture, and a welcome. "Jesus," he said. "Is it supposed to let up?"

I laughed. "Man, I don't know." I turned to him. "I should check in with my folks."

He patted my side before stepping back. "Yeah," he said. Maybe a little disappointment in his face that I'd be leaving, but possibly I was flattering myself.

I pulled out my phone and indeed I had a couple of worried texts from my mom. She was staying over at her friend's and was concerned I'd be driving in the winter mess. I told her I could stay over at my friend's and that I'd check in with Dad.

My father isn't a big texter, so I called him.

"Hey," he said when he answered. "Some storm, huh?" Dad could get right to the point sometimes. I think I inherited that from him.

"Yeah, Mom's freaking out about me. I told her I could stay over at Jason's tonight."

"Sounds good, Russ," Dad said. Then with a quiet tone, asked. "You're not at Jason's are you?"

I paused, a little freaked out I was caught in a lie. Though knowing Dad, he hadn't actually caught me at anything. The man just had a good sixth sense. I figured I was 21 and had no reason to lie to my parents. "No, Dad, I'm not. Sorry."

"I'll cover for you with your mom. Just be safe, OK?"

"I will," I said. "Promise. And again, Sorry." I was feeling like a heel now.

"I was 21 once," Dad said. "You need your space. If you need anything, a ride or something, just me a call."

"Will do."

I shook my head after I hung up. Coach S was right. Sometimes people can surprise you, in a good way.

He was just finishing cleaning up when I walked back in. "Everything OK?" he asked.

"Yep," I said. "If I'm not imposing too much, Coach, could I crash here tonight? I can sleep on the couch or whatever." I didn't want to make it seem like I was just trying to be clingy with him. "My parents just don't want me driving."

He laughed. "I damn well hope you're not taking the couch, buddy," he said. Then with a worried hesitation, he added, "I mean if you do, I'll respect that... but I wouldn't mind a little bonus time with you."

"I wouldn't mind either, Coach."

That made him smile. He set down his towel and faced me fully. "You know, I never was your coach."

"You prefer Mr. Stanley?" I teased.

"No, not really," he laughed. He stepped up and wrapped up his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him. "You know, I didn't ever think I'd enjoy being with a taller guy," he said.

"Yeah?" I asked. I'd spent my teen years self conscious about my height but now enjoyed it. Ed Stanley was bigger and hunkier than me, but I was able to look down some at him as we stood toe to toe.

He nodded. "Guess I liked being the man."

"Ed, that's about the dumbest thing I've ever heard," I said with a laugh.

"Yeah, it is. Guess I got some hang ups. But I like this," he said. "You're a tall drink of water, Russ." He now ran his hands up my back, over the fabric of my T-shirt. "When did you bulk up?"

"Started hitting the weights freshman year," I explained. "Guess I had hangups of my own, you know, about my body...."

"You got a porn body, stud," Stanley said with a sexy grin.

"Look who's talking," I said.

We kissed. It was gentle and magical. Just a hint of tongue and I could sense our breath was synching up.

"Hmmm, I like snow days," the man said in a low voice.

"I'm liking them now," I replied.

I felt his hands come around my friend, openly feeling up my chest. I was so into his ex-jock build that I was enjoying seeing him clearly turned on by me. His hands traveling lower until his left knuckle grazed the crotch of my jeans.

"You're hard," he said, as he looked up into my eyes.

"Pretty much. Yeah," I nodded.

We kissed again, and now I took the occasion to feel up Ed's body. I undid a couple of his shirt buttons and felt him moan into my mouth.

The man seemed to be keeping his self-control as he stepped back. I could tell he had a boner in his sweats now, and I was proud I'd given that to him. "OK if we just enjoy a little time in the living room before hitting the bedroom? We got all night, Russ."

"Sounds good."

"I'll light a fire in the fireplace," he said. "Sometimes it doesn't seem worth the bother just for myself."

"I wish I'd brought something more comfortable to wear," I said. Even in his button-down, Ed looked relaxed with his sweats on.

"Feel free to dig through my drawers to see if something will fit you." His eyes swept up my body. "Not sure if there will be."

"Thanks," I said. I went back to his bedroom and looked through his casual clothes, all folded neatly in his drawers. Indeed his sweatpants and pajama bottoms were way too short, but I decided on a pair of gym shorts with a drawstring that helped them hold to a waist that was two inches smaller than his size. I could have stuck with my T-shirt, but I saw an old shirt with a baseball team logo. Something about wearing Ed Stanley's clothes excited me, so I grabbed the shirt, too. I slipped the shorts on without anything on underneath, then tried on the shirt. It was loose, but it came down below my waist, which was good.

He was done fiddling with the fire when I walked in.

"You found my old team shirt," he observed, walking over to join me on the couch.

"The Captains?" I asked, referencing the logo.

"Yep, my minor league team. Played with them for two years before I called it quits." He seemed nostalgic.

"Is that when you decided to go into teaching?" I asked. I didn't really know how any of this worked.

"No, I got my Ed degree in college. I knew the majors was a long shot."

"Well, you're a great teacher," I said, then blushed as soon as I did. "I guess this is weird to talk about, huh?"

"A little," he admitted. "But you're really hot, Russ... you've become a really hot young man. So if I have to deal with the weirdness, it's worth it."

He placed his arm around my shoulder again, and I leaned into his warm build some. I knew if he started something sexual, I'd be ready for it, but our session earlier that afternoon had taken away the urgency.

"I know this isn't my place to say, Ed, but you deserve to be happy." I couldn't look at him as I said this, but after seeing a certain loneliness in the guy, I felt I had to speak to it.

"Thanks, Russ," he replied softly. Almost sadly. "Are you happy?"

"More or less," I said.

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"I dunno," I said. I realized no one but Ed Stanley had ever asked me that question. "I mean, I'm enjoying college, and I guess I've dated a couple of guys. But like, I don't know, part of me wants a real relationship, something serious, to see what that's like. I mean, I'm not gonna rush it or anything, you know?"

His hand squeezed my shoulder. "Yeah, I know, Russ," he said.

I turned to him and his eyes were on me. Coach Stanley wanted another kiss. I wanted to kiss him. This time, I did my best to copy the man's soft approach. Something about our connection made me rock hard now as I kiss him and he kissed me back.

We made out some, a lot even. But we weren't rushing anything. It was around 7 and it was Christmas and the snow was coming down. We could enjoy this.

"What about you, Ed?" I finally asked as we parted, goofy expression on our face. "Any boyfriends?"

He shook his head. "I've tried the app thing. And this may sound old fashioned, Russ, but... I don't know, I think I need some other connection than coming in and taking off my clothes."

I nodded. "In all fairness Ed, you look REALLY fucking good without your clothes on."

He smirked. "Thanks. But you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do," I said. "I've done the hookup thing some, and I've enjoyed it. But... I don't know, earlier..."

I stopped mid sentence. Stanley picked up on it. "What?" he asked.

I gulped. "I'm afraid of saying something real stupid, Ed."

He put his hand beneath my chin and turned me toward him. "I want you to trust me, Russ. I may not agree with what you say but I'm not going to judge you. Promise."

I nodded. My body shook a little, which made me embarrassed because I knew Stanley could tell. "When you were in me earlier...."

"Yeah...?" he prompted.

"It felt incredible. It was incredible."

"It was incredible for me, too," he said.

"Yeah, but... I guess what I'm trying to say is that I think for me half of it was I wanted to make you happy. Like, I wanted to give that experience to you."

"Oh buddy," he muttered, his eyes a little moist.

"Maybe you think that's fucked up, but I think that's what made the fuck so good for me."

He took a deep breath, like he was trying to choose his words carefully. "That's what sex is, giving as well as receiving pleasure."

"It's not always," I corrected. I thought back to some of my hookups. "At least not emotionally."

"Yeah, not always," he agreed.

We kissed again. A little more eagerly this time. Part of me wanted to talk more with Ed, but this felt better. Being held by him, him pull me down on top of him as we reclined on the couch. He was warm, and the fireplace was heating up the room, too. Maybe this wasn't too different from time with my boyfriends of the past, but Ed Stanley brought a seriousness that wore down my defenses.

Slowly we humped on the couch and explored each other's bodies as we made out. He had me take off his minor league T-shirt and I unbuttoned his dress shirt once more. Ed Stanley was hard once more, I could feel his boner against mine, even if we hadn't stripped from the waist down.

But as we kissed Ed ran his hands down my back and under the waist of my shorts, which were his shorts really. His broad palms felt nice and warm against my bare buns.

He grunted into my mouth as I pulled up.

"Think I could press my luck, Russ?" he asked, horny as he could be.

"I'd say I'm the lucky one, Coach... are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

He looked into my eyes, his blue eyes clearly hungry. "I'd love to fuck you again, buddy." He put a slight emphasis on the "fuck" making it sound more naughty. "Maybe try some different positions."

I grinned. "You liked the barebacking, didn't you?"

He bit his lips and nodded. "And how. But if you're not up for it..."

"Oh, I'm up for it," I assured him. "I should be a little more relaxed from earlier."

"Is that how it works?" Ed asked, his fingers now dipping deeper into my crack.

"Can't speak for other guys, but a good fuck stretches me open a little. It's a nice feeling actually."

His nostrils flared as he took that in. "Bedroom?" he asked hoarsely.

"Lead the way, Coach," I said, then slid up off his body before standing in his living room, an erection evident in the shorts, matching his own clear boner.

Things felt smoother and slower now that we were working up for our second round. Yet our eyes ate each other up as we stripped down completely and got in on opposite sides of Ed's bed.

"Damn," he hissed as I moved in to nestle up against his naked furry build. "I'm glad you're staying over, Russ."

I could feel his hard dick against mine. "Funny... all of this happened because I ran into you."

"Glad I got that Christmas tree," he said. "I almost didn't."

"Glad I had the guts to hit on you," I replied.

He smirked. "I knew you wanted to."

"Yeah, I know," I said.

We kissed again. I was starting to worry about whisker burn or chapped lips, but it was like neither of us could get enough. The more we did, the more Ed seemed to get worked up. I was, too, sure, but I think my normal MO was to be a horndog when I was with a guy, so it was like I was waiting for the signal from him to amp things up.

I now used the element of surprise to push him on his back while I got up on top. His hands were greedily gripping my ass muscle as we got into it.

"Damn, you have a great ass," Ed said in a soft low voice.

"I realized at some point tall guys have to hit leg day twice as hard," I said, joking but not entirely.

He laughed. "I hope you don't mind me focusing only on your body... you know I think more of you, Russ."

I didn't know what Coach thought of me, actually, beyond this strange chemistry that had erupted between this week. I leaned up, flexing my bod a little and showing off for the man, even as my own hands were on his strong pecs. "I'll let you in on a secret, Coach. It's kind of a kick when you treat me like a piece of meat. I didn't think that would ever happen."

"Noted, buddy," he said, his own hands coming up to touch my smoother build.

I reached over to where the lube was still out.

"You, um... ?" Coach started to ask.

I nodded, reaching back to slick up his boner. Ed Stanley was rock hard now and I enjoyed the broad grin on his face as I slicked him up then leaned back against his cock.

"Twice in one day... fuck," he muttered.

I misunderstood what he meant. "You want it, right?"

"God, yeah," he muttered. His eyes were on my body some but mostly watched my face as I sank back onto him. The penetration indeed was easier this time. I was horny and Ed's prior fuck had loosened me just enough.

"Amazing," my ex teacher grunted.

I sat further down in his lap. I felt full in a good way, but it was the psychological part of this mating that got me going. "I didn't ask... what's your favorite position?"

"I gotta choose?" he chuckled.

"No," I replied. "Just curious."

His hands now openly caressed my front, his eyes clearly excited. "I love it all. But maybe doggy."

I nodded. "Hot. But let me ride you like this, and you can pick the positions you wanna try."

"Sounds amazing, buddy," Ed grunted. I could tell he was still in thrall with the feeling of condom-less sex. "Only it should be good for you, too."

"It will be," I assured him. "Maybe let me cum missionary," I added. "Last time was crazy hot."

"Will do."

Ed watched me work up and down in his lap, his hands now gently gripping my waist to guide me. Then not so gently he held me steady while he pumped up into me. "Feel good, buddy?" he asked.

It wasn't a question, though. Stanley could read the pleasure in my face. "Fuck me, Ed."

He got an almost serious scowl on his face as he got into fuck mode, thrusting up deeper into me. "All right..." he finally urged. "Climb off."

I didn't know what he had in store, but as I knelt on the mattress, Coach S's thick body scrambled out from beneath me and moved to come from behind. I felt his hand on the middle of my back, pushing me forward. "All fours, buddy," he urged, a new horniness in his voice.

I felt his lube-slick prick nudge back into place and once again his hands gripped my waist to almost pull me back on to him.

The thrusts were urgent and hard now. Not rough, but I was being nailed by a very horny and very athletic man. "Tell me if it gets too rough," he instructed.

"Feels amazing," I replied. It did, too. I wouldn't say Ed Stanley was making me any less vers in my sexual inclination, but he was revealing to me that when I did bottom, I wanted a top like this. That girthy cock of his was riding hard and heavy over my prostate. I braced myself on the bed and felt my prick drip onto his bedsheets while my former teacher used my hole.

"Goddamn... my last load is frothing up on my cock," he said excitedly. Like he was living out some nasty porn video. Which in a way I guess we both were. "Fuuuuck!" His thursts jackhammered into me in rapid succession, until I felt them pause.

The hands on my waist now let go and ran up and down my sweaty back. "Don't wanna cum just yet," he said softly. Then he pulled out and gave my ass a light smack. "Why don't you lie on your stomach and pull one leg up."

I did as asked, turning back to look at his hungry eyes and sweaty body as I did. "You've been thinking a lot about this, haven't you."

His wet dick pulsed. "I have," he grunted. "I watch a hell of a lot of porn, and now I have my own Corbin Fisher guy in bed with me."

I pulled my left leg up toward my chest, feeling my ass crack and hole exposed to his gaze. "Just remember I'm not actually a professional at this, Coach."

He had an apologetic look on his face. "Got it," he said, then scooshed forward to line up his prick to my now-wet ring.

I was half turned on my side, half face down, in a scissor position. The entry was easier this time, aided by the limits the angle put on Coach's thrusts. He was taking it slow, too. Only I got to feel the extra depth of penetration as his cock bore deeper. All the while, those blue eyes were on me. Watching.

"I love seeing your hardon while I fuck you," he muttered.

"I told you, Coach... it's good for me, too."

It was like my words made him focus on me, and the pleasure I was getting from my insides. Slowly, he sawed in and out, eyes locked on me the whole time.

"I feel like I could come any minute," he said after a few minutes.

"Why don't you?" I asked. I was so turned on but also knew my relatively inexperienced ass would probably tire out within a couple more minutes of this.

"Don't want it to end," he said simply.

"You know I'm gonna let you fuck me again, Coach," I replied. "That is, if you want."

"Yeah?" he said a real sense of hope in his voice.

I nodded.

"Fuck... I'm so close, buddy," he said, now very slowly working in and out of me. "Ok if we try this on your stomach?"

I didn't reply. I just moved my legs down and stretched out on the bed. Coach Stanley stretched out on top of me, covering my back closely with his hairy bulk and his beard tickling the back of my neck. Already he was thrusting into me, not fast but hard, while his hands felt up my arms.

"This OK, Russ?" he asked.

"Feels great, Ed," I grunted. It did, too. I'd tried this with a couple of guys before, including my frat boy boyfriend, but Ed Stanley was bigger and furrier and meatier in his build. I loved the full contact and the weight of him on me. And I loved the thickness of his dick plowing me steadily. "You can go harder if you want."

I swear he growled, let out a real bear growl, when I said that. His hands now held my arms down and he just went for it. Hard deep shoves into my ass as he eagerly went for his nut.

"Oh my fuck..." he grunted. Then I heard a deep series of whimpers as the man came, deep in my ass for a second time, his body twitching and jerking on top of me. I didn't think I could come in this position, but I felt a pressure in my prostate that made me feel the urgent need. I reached down and touched my prick. I had enough lube left in my right palm to make it work. Just two strokes back and forth and I was entering my own deep orgasm.

"Oh shit," I hissed as I regained some consciousness. I'd never had a bottoming orgasm quite like that. My first with Coach Stanley had been about fantasy buttons and the way he pressed every one. This second nut was more purely physical, the way Coach's topping practically fucked the cum out of me.

Ed was already rolling off me and lying down to get face to face as I turned on my side. "I guess that was good for you, too, huh, Russ?" he asked.

"Jesus, Ed. I can barely think right now," I muttered, still catching my breath. "But yeah...."

His own chest was rising and falling and I could even sense his heart beat as he smiled at me. "I think you telling me I could do it again sometime... that was the trigger for me."

I looked down on the bedsheets, where my cum had soaked the fabric. "I'm afraid I left a big wet spot."

He smiled. "Well you gotta sleep in it... just kidding. We'll change the sheets," he said. "But I'm glad you liked that, because... goddamn...."

"Yeah," I agreed. I slid off the bed. "Can I get some water?" I asked.

"Help yourself in the kitchen," he replied.

I slid Ed's shorts back on and made my way to rehydrate. When I returned, he'd stripped the sheets and was putting on a new set. I helped him. He was bare chested in his sweat pants. If I hadn't just had two rounds of intensely incredible sex, I would have boned up just looking at him. As I watched him tuck one side in, he looked up, catching me staring. He winked, which made me blush.

He picked up the bundle of soiled sheets and turned back to. "Don't worry, Russ, I'm in the same boat," he said. "Like I said, it's like when I wanted to play with my new toy all Christmas day."

I laughed. "You mean I can't play with mine tomorrow morning?" I joked.

He smirked. "I didn't say that, buddy," he said. "I'll throw these in the wash. You feel like having another beer in front of the fire place? I have some scotch too, if that sounds better."

I'd never had scotch but I figured what the hell. This evening was about new experiences and getting to know Ed Stanley. "Scotch sounds good."

He nodded. "Put another log on the fire, if there's still embers. I'll tend to it in a minute."

"Yep," I said.

Coach S wasn't making a move to put a shirt on, so I didn't either. Maybe we'd need to fire to keep warm, but I enjoyed the half nakedness together.

Coach offered me a small glass filled with the brown liquor and went to get the fireplace roaring again. He settled back on the couch next to me. It was my turn to place my arm over his bare shoulder, feeling the hardness and the heat of his body.

He had a quiet content look on his face. "You know, Russ, I don't want this day to end."

My heart pounded. "It doesn't have to, Ed," I said. "Well, it does, but you know what I mean."

He nodded. "You're a special young man, Russ. You know that?"

I ran my fingers along his delt muscle. "You give me too much credit, Coach, but thanks." I tried to calm my breathing. It was just the sound of the fire and the snow had made everything outside dead quiet. "A while ago, you said I could say anything and you wouldn't just me." It was a question as much as a statement.

"I meant it, Russ."

I squeezed his shoulder. "I guess I'm pretty young still... but I've never felt things click with another guy like they have with you."

"Not even with your boyfriends?" Ed asked quietly.

"Not even with my boyfriends," I said. "Listen, I know that probably came off weird and clingy and..."

"Russ..." Ed interrupted me. "Will you go on a date with me?" I could hear the tension and anxiety in his voice and when he turned to me I could see it in his eyes, too. "Sometime this week, before you go back..."

"I don't want to get you in trouble, Ed," I said. "You know, with your job or anything."

"We'll figure that out," he said. "But you didn't answer my question."

I realized I'd been afraid not of my answer but how much I wanted to give it. "Yes, I'd love that, Ed."

"Good," he said, patting my leg.

We kissed, softly. I pushed my tongue into his mouth first this time.

When we parted we had goofy grins on our faces.

"You know..." Coach S said as he traced his hand up my pectoral muscle and over my neck. "Even if people do find out or there's any gossip... it'll be so fucking worth it."

I laughed, only to have Coach cut me off with another kiss, guiding me back down to a reclining position on his couch.

THE END?

#drakestories

185 notes · View notes