SQUEALING - Tumblr Posts

Its just so... AJDKSLMVAJKDS

tender pirates!!

Hi I just wanted to say I’ve been loving your fanfics like I literally cried to the part two of long legs, (not in a weird way but the break up scene when she left was just so good). Well I just wanted to say that bye

when I say I have been staring at this message the whole day… omg??? I can’t begin to express how much this means to me??? the fact that my silly little writing is actually liked by people is so insane to me😭 I’m so so glad you liked it, I hope you stick around!!🌸 there’s much more to come and I literally try to update every other day (summer break has made me insane lol) so, whoever you are, know that you’ve made my day💜🌸✨ THANK YOU!!

since when are there 300 OF YOU HERE?????????

WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?? THIS WAS DAMN QUICK?? feels like just yesterday that i was celebrating 200???

i love you. this is such an honour, i can't even begin to describe how insane it is to me that there are so many of you here. thank you to every single one of you for giving me the joy of writing for an audience!!!😭💜🌸

... might have to do a little something to celebrate🥸💅🏻 (pls give me ideas omg, what do people want??)

✩𖦹° ｡⋆{10:31}..!?.

✩𖦹° ｡⋆⸜—pairing: Suna Rintaro x f!reader

𖦹°⸜⋆➳genre: fluff, suggestive,

—warnings: mentions of tits, ass, and thighs

✩—Synopsis: your bf comes home tired so he strips infront of you and shoves his head on yo chest.

"Bad day?" you asked half heartedly, leaning your weight onto the headboard by your shared bed, your eyes on the book you were currently immersed in.

you could see Suna coming into the room from your peripheral view, and even you could tell he looked like his life got sucked out of him. From the way his shoulders sagged more than usual, and how he didnt greet you with a kiss yet like he usually would.

Rintaro was tired. he had a shitty day at work. everything was too bright, everyone was too loud, nothing went his way, his blocks were so noticeably sluggish today that his coach had to ask him to go home early. Rin was not having it. He was exhausted. All he wanted to do was come home to you and recieve your affection and comfort. he had priorities.

"Youre home early." You mumbled, trying again.

At his lack of answer you glanced up at him dryly only for you to do a double take, looking up from your book as you watched him take off his shirt. woah.

You bookmark your page before placing your book down the table next to your big bed, but before your boyfriend could take a step to you and get your affections,

He felt himself have to physically pause as you let out a low whistle the moment he lifted his shirt off. You couldnt resist the temptation to tease him, plus, you couldnt take your eyes off his abs and toned upper body the moment he flat out stripped.

"bad day?" you questioned, once more, testing the waters.

At your playful grin, he ignored you with a tired look before slumping in bed with you, curling next to you as he blatantly layed his head down on your chest unannounced.

"Mm" Rin let out groggily, his first instinct stuffing his face on his girls chest.

You were surprised by his sudden action, without any hesitation too. Not that you minded. it was actually really cute the way rin was nuzzling onto your chest. he reminded you of a cat. a big.. 6'3.. cat...

You didnt mind at all. it's just that knowing Rin.... He honestly wouldve just groped you on the spot.

Your boyfriend has absolutely zero shame. none at all. not even in public. in fact he would publicly grope you. wherever, whenever. doesnt matter if its your chest, ass, thighs, he cannot keep his hands to himself if it would save him. You half expected him to curl into a ball on your side, rest his head on your shoulder and start squishing your chest with his big calloused hands but you assume he was just too tired to joke around like that right now, and all he needed was a relief and some love from his girl. His comfort, His home, His love, the person he can come home to everyday knowing she'd be waiting right there to welcome him in her arms.

You placed your hand on your boyfriends head and started playing with his soft locks, cooing at him at how adorable he was acting right now. Usually, if it were any other time, Rin would've rolled his eyes at you, maybe add in a sassy remark, but not right now. right now, he just wanted to bask in your love and affection.

Feeling Rins arms wrap around your waist, you gently clawed your nails at his broad back, humming at the way he buried his face even deeper on your chest, if that was possible.

As you had one hand buried in his hair and the other on his back, you slowly glided your nails up his shoulder blades, not hard enough to leave scratch marks like when..when you two are doing certain activities... but just enough for him to sigh in the relief you were giving him right now.

You subtly moved your nails to claw at his back once again, barely reaching the middle when you heard him groan in satisfaction and contentment in the semi-massage, and attention his girlfriend was giving him.

A smile graced your face shortly after you heard his voice. theres my rin.

With slow movements, you moved your hand down to massage his neck. Rintaro sighed, thanking the gods for whatever thing hes done to deserve you.

He doesn't know what he did at all, but it must've been damn fucking good just for him to score a person like you. He must have been an angel whos done not a single bad deed, he thinks. i mean its only rational, considering how you came into his life and changed everything. hes convinced he did no wrong, commited no sins at all.

Rin shakes his head, dismissing the thought as he felt your nails dig onto a good spot. he let out a low sigh as your thumb gently rubbed over his neck. you took the short strands of hair framing his face, then tucked some behind his ear. Much like what he would do to fluster you. This time though, you could feel him smiling through the way he hummed and nuzzled his head further on your chest. rin loved being babied by you.

You had a soft look on your face too, watching him act like this, it really does do an effect on you.

you leaned down and kissed his temple, whispering your love to him and nothing but sweetness.

it didnt take long before your eyes met his soft gaze after a few seconds. you see him lift his head, and despite his eyes being the only thing you could see, you still caught that furious blush that adorned his face, no matter how he had tried to hide it with shoving his face deeper onto your chest, your could still see the red spreading onto his ears as you giggled at him.

After your giggles died down, and his struggling came to a halt,

".. i love you. Thank you for loving me." you heard rin whisper, voice muffled.

LMAOOOOO SORRY FOR THE SYNOPSIS IT MIGHTVE BEEN A WEE BIT MISLEADING 🤓

✩𖦹° ｡⋆{10:31}..!?.

✩𖦹° ｡⋆⸜—pairing: Suna Rintaro x f!reader

𖦹°⸜⋆➳genre: fluff, suggestive,

—warnings: mentions of tits, ass, and thighs

✩—Synopsis: your bf comes home tired so he strips infront of you and shoves his head on yo chest.

"Bad day?" you asked half heartedly, leaning your weight onto the headboard by your shared bed, your eyes on the book you were currently immersed in.

you could see Suna coming into the room from your peripheral view, and even you could tell he looked like his life got sucked out of him. From the way his shoulders sagged more than usual, and how he didnt greet you with a kiss yet like he usually would.

Rintaro was tired. he had a shitty day at work. everything was too bright, everyone was too loud, nothing went his way, his blocks were so noticeably sluggish today that his coach had to ask him to go home early. Rin was not having it. He was exhausted. All he wanted to do was come home to you and recieve your affection and comfort. he had priorities.

"Youre home early." You mumbled, trying again.

At his lack of answer you glanced up at him dryly only for you to do a double take, looking up from your book as you watched him take off his shirt. woah.

You bookmark your page before placing your book down the table next to your big bed, but before your boyfriend could take a step to you and get your affections,

He felt himself have to physically pause as you let out a low whistle the moment he lifted his shirt off. You couldnt resist the temptation to tease him, plus, you couldnt take your eyes off his abs and toned upper body the moment he flat out stripped.

"bad day?" you questioned, once more, testing the waters.

At your playful grin, he ignored you with a tired look before slumping in bed with you, curling next to you as he blatantly layed his head down on your chest unannounced.

"Mm" Rin let out groggily, his first instinct stuffing his face on his girls chest.

You were surprised by his sudden action, without any hesitation too. Not that you minded. it was actually really cute the way rin was nuzzling onto your chest. he reminded you of a cat. a big.. 6'3.. cat...

You didnt mind at all. it's just that knowing Rin.... He honestly wouldve just groped you on the spot.

Your boyfriend has absolutely zero shame. none at all. not even in public. in fact he would publicly grope you. wherever, whenever. doesnt matter if its your chest, ass, thighs, he cannot keep his hands to himself if it would save him. You half expected him to curl into a ball on your side, rest his head on your shoulder and start squishing your chest with his big calloused hands but you assume he was just too tired to joke around like that right now, and all he needed was a relief and some love from his girl. His comfort, His home, His love, the person he can come home to everyday knowing she'd be waiting right there to welcome him in her arms.

You placed your hand on your boyfriends head and started playing with his soft locks, cooing at him at how adorable he was acting right now. Usually, if it were any other time, Rin would've rolled his eyes at you, maybe add in a sassy remark, but not right now. right now, he just wanted to bask in your love and affection.

Feeling Rins arms wrap around your waist, you gently clawed your nails at his broad back, humming at the way he buried his face even deeper on your chest, if that was possible.

As you had one hand buried in his hair and the other on his back, you slowly glided your nails up his shoulder blades, not hard enough to leave scratch marks like when..when you two are doing certain activities... but just enough for him to sigh in the relief you were giving him right now.

You subtly moved your nails to claw at his back once again, barely reaching the middle when you heard him groan in satisfaction and contentment in the semi-massage, and attention his girlfriend was giving him.

A smile graced your face shortly after you heard his voice. theres my rin.

With slow movements, you moved your hand down to massage his neck. Rintaro sighed, thanking the gods for whatever thing hes done to deserve you.

He doesn't know what he did at all, but it must've been damn fucking good just for him to score a person like you. He must have been an angel whos done not a single bad deed, he thinks. i mean its only rational, considering how you came into his life and changed everything. hes convinced he did no wrong, commited no sins at all.

Rin shakes his head, dismissing the thought as he felt your nails dig onto a good spot. he let out a low sigh as your thumb gently rubbed over his neck. you took the short strands of hair framing his face, then tucked some behind his ear. Much like what he would do to fluster you. This time though, you could feel him smiling through the way he hummed and nuzzled his head further on your chest. rin loved being babied by you.

You had a soft look on your face too, watching him act like this, it really does do an effect on you.

you leaned down and kissed his temple, whispering your love to him and nothing but sweetness.

it didnt take long before your eyes met his soft gaze after a few seconds. you see him lift his head, and despite his eyes being the only thing you could see, you still caught that furious blush that adorned his face, no matter how he had tried to hide it with shoving his face deeper onto your chest, your could still see the red spreading onto his ears as you giggled at him.

After your giggles died down, and his struggling came to a halt,

".. i love you. Thank you for loving me." you heard rin whisper, voice muffled.

LMAOOOOO SORRY FOR THE SYNOPSIS IT MIGHTVE BEEN A WEE BIT MISLEADING 🤓

I didn't just squeal. What are you talking about?

Hey Theo can I sit on your lap???

I'd like to write some yennaia dialogue. Just something short and sweet. What should I write about?

This has me in a chokehold!

Part 2 of the Alchemist series - No smut today,but I had this idea in my head and couldn't continue NOT writing it. And don't worry - those two will have time enough in Part 3 for some biological studies! :> TW: Emotional turmoils, Graphic depictions of torture and violence Read at your own discretion. As always minors - please exit to the right, DNI, this is an 18+ space

Your assistant flinched when you threw another rack of test tubes against the walls, the black, polished tiles to your feet covered in shards of glass and bubbling, oil-like liquids.

"M-Ma'am, please, ", she pleaded, kneading the pink, naked tail that peeked out of her lab coat nervously in her hands while she backed away as your grabbed the big Erlenmeyer flask still sitting over the bunsen burner, fizzing as if in mockery. "i-it's better than number 52. Isn't that progress...?"

Failed. Again, you had failed.

"Idiots call it progress...", You held the flask up, cold flames of renewed anger licking down your spine. "I call it A FUCKING DISGRACE!"

The rat demon squeaked when the glass crashed on the floor as you howled in frustration, the black gas that evaporated with a hiss and the dark purple flames the substance evoked enough to make her run out the door and out of the laboratory with a sob, the sound of her heels clicking in the hallway a grim farewell and final goodbye to a fairly good assistant.

You slumped back against a work bench and put your hands in the pockets of your coat, struggling with your breathing to calm down. The painful hunger in you scratched at your insides, this insatiable need that appeared ever since...

Ever since you returned to your laboratory that day, ever since your last encounter with the Radio Demon. The image of Alastor and his shadow flashing up in front of you. How you were deceived and subdued by him, outsmarted by him and most humiliating, how you had liked it. It should've left nothing but disdain and anger inside you, instead it left an aching want, a restless desire for filling the gaping hole of knowledge you had been faced with as well as your paradox craving for another fight ending inevitably into your submission. Defiant to do something about the latter, you had begun to at least try to satisfy the first.

You were usually okay with failure as part of the scientific progress. A failed experiment only meant an additional tool in your hand on your surefire way to success. But never did success seem so impossible to you. Every new try of recreating the shadows that had so efficiently overpowered you felt like a rerun of your previous one. You had exhausted your knowledge, rewritten the same hypotheses over and over and burned through five assistants since. These angry outbursts were so unlike you - but as the number of failed experiments rose so did your temper, and the higher your anger, the harder it became to concentrate.

Alastor haunted your mind, infiltrated your rationale with images of a teasing smile, flesh threatening to burst beneath black and sharp claws, burning red eyes staring at you from the wet heat of your core. You hadn't eaten in two weeks, hadn't slept in nearly as long, had spent all your waking hours locked away in here in a futile attempt of fleeing these emotions that were so obstructive to your work. You were obsessively reading your books, furiously rereading your notes, desperately starting test after test, trial after trial to try and satiate this thirst only to be left even more parched. You knew it wouldn't be long before you inevitably would have to drink, even if you knew it waould be poison.

"I can't go on like this..." you sighed into the deafening silence of your laboratory.

There was a certain pep in the Radio Demon's step as he walked through the streets of the Pentagram, humming to himself as sinners parted and hid away wherever he went. Alastor reached into the inside breast pocket of his overcoat, unfolding the little note that had sent him in high spirits and rereading it with impish glee.

'To: The Radio DemonRegarding: Our most recent encounter

Alastor, I hope this note will find you well. I'd like to discuss the possibility of a mutually beneficial arrangement regarding our personal and professional feud. If you agree to a meeting, a table at RAUM in the Entertainment District will be reserved tomorrow at 9 p.m. PST (Pride Standard Time)

Best Regards,The Alchemist'

He laughed to himself at the forced choice of words, the tenseness evident in every neatly drawn letter and the obvious refusal of showing even one hint of familiarity. He had known he'd just have to give the proverbial ball a little nudge - his little note so easily snuck into her lab coat by his shadow companion - and let it roll, patiently waiting long enough to see it finally crush the prideful, stubborn resistance of the little sinner known as The Alchemist in the end. Although, he had to admit it took longer than he had expected.

His spies had been useful in keeping track of her ego crumbling - the chimp, roach and gerbil sinners that she hired as assistants all painted him the same picture - that the poor woman descended more and more into restless obsession by trying day and night to solve the mystery of his shadowy companion. The last one of her henchmen, a meek little rat girl, added a curious detail to the usual report that had Alastor's self-confidence booming: That, on the rare occasion that she fell asleep on her workbench, the Alchemist seemed to writhe and whimper - calling out a name.

His name.

He could hear it, her voice, the usual dismissive contempt replaced with poorly repressed desire and urgency, breathing his name while rendered helpless and at the mercy of his hands and tongue. What a rush it had been, to see his rival and latest person of interest fall apart under his doing, breaking her stoic and methodical facade to reveal the raw and weak creature she was deep down. What a divine image, seeing the haughty, refractory Alchemist beneath him, squirming and gasping and panting beneath his touch that she begged for, seeing and feeling her whole body turn against her, reduced to a groaning heap. How delicious it had tasted, not just her, but the satisfaction in knowing he'd forever carry the taste of her and his victory.

But when the moment approached to end her, to finally wipe her off the face of hell, it spoiled in his mouth, turning from sweet into bitter. He had planned it to be his grand finale: To kill her after showing her blatant inadequacy compared to him, bound by his shadow and thoroughly humiliated - But he found himself unable to.

Rosie was the only one he told about that day, and her reply to his retelling had him brooding ever since.

"You know, Alastor - The only difference between hate and love is that hatred doesn't fear the death of the one at our mercy."

He had almost cursed at his oldest friend. The ridiculous idea alone was unsettling. Alastor never had interest in the concept of loving something or someone - he had felt no need to either. The methods he used were chosen due to this wretched urge he felt every time she had crossed his path. He hadn't been unfamiliar with these emotions stirring in him - but the intensity of them had him struggle, had him furious at the effect she had on everything that made him the powerful, ruthless overlord that he had become. To think this unhealthy fascination with her powers, how riled up and agitated he got just seeing her in her resulote disinterest in power or status, the joy he felt sparring with her as she held her fort against him had been anything other than feelings of rivalry. But hell had a habit of twists like this - that what he thought was hatred turned out just the opposite. He still wasn't certain how he'd handle this predicament, but her note had been the perfect catalyst to explore the potential this little change held for him.

Just as the clock tower of Pride's main city began to strike nine, his destination so close - Something wrapped around his ankles and wrists, and hadn't Alastor been so lost in his thoughts he would've had enough time and mind to dodge the cables that had slithered towards him. A second too late he realized just what building he was in front of, before he was violently dragged by the electrified strings, out of the street and into the darkness behind the blue sliding doors of 'VoxTech Enterprises'.

"I thought" he heard a familiar, suave voice resounding in the pitch black darkness around him as the doors slid close, dripping of malicious glee that had Alastor furious behind his smiling mask "that with old age comes wisdom, Al. Seems you've skipped that phase and went straight to senile."

Alastor heard Vox's laugh, amplified from every direction. His hands and feet were spread apart, leaving him hanging with no sense of direction or solid ground beneath him. Without light, summoning his shadow was a useless endeavor - one of the only things Alastor regrettably shared with what was once a trusted partner not too long ago. And the only light was the laughably negligible red glow of his eyes, losing the battle against the black void around him. His best bet was to be buying time, so he decided to humor the fool until chance would show itself.

"Ah, no, I do quite remember your lack of imagination when it comes to these sorts of affairs." Alastor chuckled, a slight static distortion lacing his voice as the anger within him grew. "Glad to see that's at least one thing that hasn't changed."

Electricity burst from the wires that pulled him even further apart, sending shockwaves through him as Alastor's smile widened at Vox's inability to hide his rage.

"Mighty cocky for someone who's got his ass on the line, eh, old pal?" in the distance, a screen turned on, dim and flickering, showing the face of the smirking tv demon. "Tell me, Al, was it just stupidity that brought you right to my doorstep? Or did you already miss me that much?"

Alastor laughed mockingly, concentrating enough to at least create a shadow in the weak light around Vox's screen to smash it in before it dsappeared. "If I recall correctly, you were the one begging me not to leave, Voxxy. How is your face these days, by the way?"

The screen flickered as Vox's eyes went wild. "You motherf-"

"As to what brought me to these parts of our illustrious city," Alastor continued, gritting his teeth as another surge of electricity shot down his spine, making his shoulders jerk painfully in the tight cable's grip. "I was on my way to meet someone who is actually worth my while."

"Oh yeah? Well, they can send me a Thank-You-Note for saving them the disappointment your 'while' would've brought them." Vox sneered, a mocking smile appearing on the broken screen as he bared his teeth in a snarl. "Face it - You're done, Al. Finished. You can't do shit in here. I created this room specifically for you to die in - thanks for the intel, by the way. And believe me - I could kill you here and now, get rid of a fucking nuisance for everybody, and be called a hero for it. But for old time's sake, I'll offer you my deal once more." His joints cracked under the pressure of the pulling cables, and Alastor yanked in cold fury at them. Vox's voice was saturated with sadistic glee. "Join my team, be my second in command, my real partner this time and not a fucking uptight coward, and I'll spare you the humiliation of a slow, torturous and publicly viewed dea..."

A sudden boom had the cables and the screen shake and flicker, the image of Vox's face breaking up in pixels. Alastor felt his chest filling with a sudden eager anticipation of what - or who - the source of that explosion might've been. With a hiss, Vox's screen was restored to full resolution again, but his eyes were wide in confusion. "What the fuck was that?"

Alastor's laughter echoed across the room as another, louder explosion followed, along with panicked screams of pain and horror and he smiled over to the shocked overlord, heart beating with feverish euphoria. If the intensity of the detonations were any indicator, he was about to see a marvelous show of what true power looked like.

"It seems, old pal, that my date has arrived."

Vox didn't get to say anything else before one of the walls burst into its components and the room filled with the bright light of the neon signs illuminating the district, and amidst the clouds of dust settling, stood his darling alchemist. Her lab coat was stained in every beautiful shade of red, face and skin smeared with soot and the remnants of blood that wasn't hers, a look in her eyes that was so unhinged it made him shudder with all kinds of arousal, the aura around her glowing in a dangerous toxic green. Although her chest was heaving, there was no trace of exhaustion to her, only pure, cold rage.

"What the hell is going on? And who the fuck are you?!"

She didn't pay Vox any attention, walking up to Alastor as he ripped the remaining bits and pieces of cords and cables from his arms, her heels clacking loudly on the polished concrete floor.

"You are right on time, darling."

"And you were not - our table was canceled." Alastor had to refrain himself from giggling in feverish excitement as she walked past him, towards the stunned television demon that had been thrown into the back of the room by the force of the explosion and now leaned with his back against the wall, his expression mortified behind the cracked, flickering screen.

“Polyethylene, glass, sauter, copper, lead, platinum, silicone." Her voice was cold and calculating, each word a step closer and Vox shrunk away further into the wall behind him. Her face was neutral, a mask devoid of emotion and any trace of empathy or emotion, but her eyes sparkled full of life and fire. "But even though there are so many valuable building blocks in your electronic equipment - I can't say I appreciate the use."

She put her palm over Vox's monitor in an almost comforting gesture, her lips curling into a cruel smile as his casing started to melt and Vox screamed.

"Especially when it leaves me hungry and waiting for my dinner partner."

Alastor marveled at the beauty and precision of her strength and the effortless way she wielded it, her mind calculating every atom of Vox's technology, rendering the presumptous perfection of hell's television and phone industry to a wailing mess, his limbs and body twitching helplessly at the mercy of her touch, screen flickering with increasing speed the more damage she did. His pulse quickened, blood rushed deafeningly loud through his ears - She was dangerous and cruel and she was perfect, she was everything and so, so much more of anything he imagined and hoped her to be.

She let off Vox, his face half gone, his remaining speakers whimpering in agony and body trembling as she stood upright, looking down at the demon in disgust.

"Repeat this mistake and I will make sure I'll be there to slowly and painfully disintegrate you every time you start to respawn anew, Television Demon."

Alastor appeared beside her, making use of his shadows now that the requirement of light was covered, looking at the beaten form of his unfortunate rival with an amused laugh before taking his little alchemist's hand, breathing a kiss onto it with a smile.

"I apologize for the missed reservation, darling, but we can't have you left starving, can we? How about we relocate to my townhouse - I'll whip up a nice Pain Perdu while we discuss your... proposal, yes?"

When her face turned to him, her features slightly softened around the edges - barely noticeable to the untrained eye, but all too obvious to him, who had thought, dreamt and obsessed over her likeness enough times to see every tiny shift in her expression, even those one could interpret as her rare, discreet show of joy.

"I suppose that's an acceptable compromise."

It made the gnawing hunger inside him become all the more insatiable when she let him pull her closer, her hand still in his - warm and stained with remnants of Vox's fluids. He gave her the brightest of smiles as the destroyed room filled with radio static and his shadows swirled and wrapped themselves around them, shooting his wounded, rancorous ex-companion a sneering smile.

"I, again, have to disrespectfully decline your offer, my dear Vox. I'd rather invest my time into more..." He looked back at her, giving her an intense, heated gaze he refused to hide anymore, and the smile lingering on her lips growing into one that was just as sharp as his, and yet so much more endearing given its rarity. "...innovative propositions, I think is the right word."

Within a moment, the black swirls faded into the night, leaving nothing but the echo of his laughter and the shuddering, crying mess of the tv overlord behind.

Tagging for scientific purposes (based on comments/reblogs): @minkdelovely @macabr3-barbi3 @depressinglyobsessed @tywrites @mydickisjuicy

@littlebluefishtail @catticora @cosmiccandydreamer @anngray1369 @angeldustharmony

@jurijyuu @liz776 @selenezq

It’s like,

Totally Masterlist !

The way you move { ballerina! Black reader x step up Moose, opposites attract, art school, coming of age ish } ->

Two half’s of the same coin{gxg, p0c, popular reader x loser, plastic x plastic, mean girls but lesbo} ->

Queendom {kpop, idol au, girl group, p0c} ->

School of vanity{school of arts, populars x losers, in-crowd x out-crowd, popular girl x new girl, mean girl, p0c, teen movie character types/tropes}->

How to: lose a guy in 10 ways { Bestfriend! Black Reader x Rodrick, Mean girl! reader, the mean girl’s best friend, 2nd hbc, high school tropes, doawk rodrick, one sided}->

Thee other women { Older! Black Reader x NCT Jungwoo, cheating husband, revenge, older fem reader, inspired by "The Other Woman"} ->

Spy under coverz {Spy! Black Reader x Spy Wayv Yang Yang, enemies 2 lovers / coworkers 2 lovers, } ->

I love it, my designer {inspired by nct 127-designer, Designer! Photographer! Black Reader x Model! Actor! Stray Kids Hyunjin, failing marriage, cheating husband, cheating n general, older fem reader, forbidden trope}->

Faster {Black Reader x Racer! NCT Yuta, car racing, enemies to lovers}->

€ure 4 lov£ {Young Love? Male lead x Black Reader, zombie apocalypse, coming of age ish}->

The boys next door {older! Rixh! Black Reader x playboy bunnies! Ateez Seonghwa/ Nct Yuta/ TXT Yeonjun/ Stray Kids Felix, inspired by playboys “the girls next door”}->

A million views {good girl trope! Black Reader x Popular Mean! Male lead, battle of the bands ish, art school au, family feud}->

Extras:

a. A summer trip to:______ ___ _____-> {around the world/ black girl travel.}

B. Poem !$|n

c. I'm the _____ series {iconic black fem rappers! Insert x classic tropes! leads}

d. Alexa play ⏯️: __ {song inspired mini stories}

e. Oneshots {random mini stories}

AHHH BEE THIS IS ADORABLE ILYSM

@lees-chaotic-brain x yuuji itadori instagram feed

girl i hope you like this ily <3

Squealing rn

Jsndjdnbx

When I tell you this motivated me to write so much

Imma be creating stuff all day today and I'm jskandkndjc

can wr get baku begrudgingly doing something with you (tsundere style) like skincare?

Coming right up!

I adore the idea of bkg with the full facemask and cucumbers on his eyes with a robe

He is a self care bitch all the way and you introduced him to it 😩

He owes you everything

Masterlist<3

Bakugou x Reader- Self Care?

Its hard, being this fucking pretty. For real. Flawless skin and well manicured nails, plus nourished hair comes from hours of self care each week.

And Katsuki learns this the hard way when suddenly you're walking into his dorm room while he's studying, carrying an entire bag of products that you fully intend on using on him.

"Spa day!!"

Your voice is loud and chipper and full of love as you dump the bag to the side and embrace the stunned-silent blonde excitedly.

Lord, he's not ready for this.

"Fucking what?"

Eventually Katsuki.Exe reboots and kicks back up into action, scoffing at you as he slips his hands to your waist, giving you a pointed glare.

"Spa day!"

Katsuki's glare is ineffective, Katsuki returned to pokèball!

You remain unfazed by his harsh words and irritated mumbles, dragging him to his bed and seating him down, and a part of him makes the windows error sound as you walk into his room and scuttle around it like you fucking own the place.

But you do, really, because you own Katsuki's heart.

So his room and everything in it is yours <3

You throw a fluffy, white bathrobe at him and he catches it easily, begrudgingly admitting to himself that it is really soft agains the skin of his dry, rough palms, damaged and scarred from so many years of making explosion after explosion.

You're gonna be paying a lot of attention to those hands.

Anyway.

"Just lay back, because you have no say in this, babe. Take some time to relax. It'll be difficult getting to the number one spot if you sleep like shit and look like grease and unwashed teenager... slef care is important, Katsuki, if tou want to be the best."

"You fucking what?"

You're met with some pretty unsavoury language as a result of that but whatever, he knows you're right, and he really is grateful that you have his best interests at heart. You're constantly doing everything you can to aid him in his strive for the number one spot. If you were anyone else, he'd tell you to fuck off and die, but you're different. You're not trying to help him out of pity, or because you think you're better. You don't treat him like a child.

You just love him.

And he loves you too.

So he sighs, sucks it up, and puts on the damn bathrobe because he knows you have a point.

"You're not supposed to wear it with a full set of pyjamas on underneath..." you mutter, sweatdropping.

Nevermind.

"F-fucking-.. huh?! Just fuck off already! Im not undressing for you! What is this some kind of prank?! You filming me, you fuck?!"

After that fiasco is dealt with, katsuki is finally in the bathtobe after getting a stern whooping from you, wearing his boxers underneath and blushing as you climb on top of him, dressed the same.

Theres nothing sexual about this moment though, as you place a loving peck to his remarkably soft, bitten up lips and start to paint his face with a cleanser, taking all of the impurities from his skin and casting them away with one of your many microfibre towels, and he offhandedly wonders just how much money you've spent on this stuff.

After the cleanser comes the exfoliant, and after that comes the clay mask, and suddenly, he's blind. You've really just put fucking cucumbers on his eyes...

He doesn't complain though, because it feels good to have the very one he wants to build his entire future around massaging his face so delicately it could actually put him to sleep. He adores you, and the feeling only intensifies as his heart pounds in his chest at the feeling of your hands encasing his, exfoliating and moisturising the skin.

And if you give him a manicure while he's pretending to be asleep, he says nothing, even as you clip his cuticles and apply oil to the tips of his fingers and his nails so gently, painting them with clear nail strengthener. He feels like a pampered puppy, and he adores the feeling of your fingers running over his, now, soft and healthy looking skin.

You purr happily as he lets you preen him and clean him up, running your fingers through his scalp and his hair with a conditioner that you use frequently. It feels like you've won some kind of prize, because he would never let anyone as close as you are, and the little moans he releases are like music to your ears while you give him a scalp massage.

Once you're both rinsed clean and dry, you cant help but let him touch and caress your legs like he's just seen magic at work. Seriously, how the fuck are they so soft? Would his be like this if he shaved?? How does it feel when you have smooth legs as you lay in bed? He's heard you go on and on about how it's the "softest", "most heavenly" feeling in the world, but how true is that? Should he try???

Life's not worth living if you can't make Katsuki doubt everything he's ever known.

He's so adorable as he tries to wrap his head around the feeling of shaved legs, his brows furroed and his eyes trained intently on each pore, each freckle, each bruise...

And you say nothing when Katsuki drags you back to his room the same time next month to do the exact same thing again, relishing in his self care with you. You're not surprised either when he paints your nails for you expertly, the little pigtails you put in his hair spiking out like little blonde explosions behind a plain black headband.

THIS IS SO CYUTE REEEEEEE

Congratulations for 2.7k followers!!! For my request, I would like if you could write some sibling scenarios for the octatrio with a younger sibling who absolutely adores and looks up to them. They manage to visit NRC for some kind of event and the younger sibling just follows them around like a little puppy. Copying some of their mannerisms since they want to be just like their cool older brother. I just want to see some silly and fluffy platonic family moments with them, please. 〔´∇｀〕

❋ Big Brother! ❋

↳ Younger sibling!reader visiting him (+ extra Leech brothers birthday special)

feat: Azul ⭑ Floyd ⭑ Jade

genre: platonic fluff, humour

note: no pronouns used with the reader, younger sibling!reader but age is unspecified, established filial relationships, reader is heavily implied to be merfolk, nicknames are used (little octopus, little one, little eel, kiddo)

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

Since Azul’s mother divorced fairly early in Azul’s life, I would imagine that you would be Azul’s half-sibling born from his mother and stepfather. That doesn’t mean the Azul loves you any less.

He worked hard not only for himself, but for his younger sibling. Azul wanted to be someone who you can look up to. Someone strong, smart, successful, and most of all, admirable.

And he did a great job, because you can’t imagine anyone more amazing than your big brother Zuzu.

You managed to convince your parents to let you join their visit to NRC during their VDC festival. Even if Azul wasn’t involved with the competition itself, you always wanted to visit your big brother’s restaurant.

Imagine the merman’s surprise when he felt a pair of small hands pull on the edges of his coat. Your bright smile was brimming with joy seeing your brother get frazzled over your visit.

As much Azul wanted to entertain you, this time of year was an opportune time for business. He offered to let you stay in his big comfy office until he could find time for you.

However you refused, choosing to follow him around. Something you learned from Azul was unrelenting stubbornness, after all. You were content with grabbing hold of Azul's large coat as he walked suspiciously slower than usual. Another thing you learned from your dear brother? An itching desire for a good deal.

Your lovable charm was a hit with the customers who watched as you waddled after Azul, not quite used to feet yet. Nearby customers held in squeals as you wrapped yourself in your brother’s coat, watching Azul and mimicking the smiles and hand gestures that your brother was fond of, even pushing up the glasses you begged your parents to buy you, regardless if you needed them or not.

Enchanted, some of the customers requested a commemorative picture with you, which is where you took Azul’s skills for your practice.

“Hmm…if you buy Zuzu’s yummy drink, then I’ll take a picture. With a contract!”

With a poorly-made contract with messy ink splotches, you wore the biggest smile you could muster as you sent a thumbs-up to your brother, who couldn’t figure out if he should be absolutely flabbergasted or immensely proud.

“Naturally, I knew how adorable my baby octopus is. What kind of blind fool do you take me for?”

Floyd is the kind of brother where he loves you and protective of you but he’s still his mischievous self. Rather than being careful or responsible, Floyd is always happy to bring you to every shenanigan and adventure if you ask him nice enough. This made for some unforgettable memories (for better or for worse)

You learn so much from the spontaneous eel. For example, you learned that sharks can swim really fast when angry, but your big bro Floyd is faster, even when carrying you in his arms.

As teasing as he can be, you admired how strong and cool Floyd was, and was excited to hear stories about his life on land with Jade, especially about the stories of his new friends. You even have a notebook with pictures of specific sea creatures to keep track of the friends he made, because if your brother doesn’t bother with names, why should you? (terrible influence, he is)

Imagine your excitement when you had the chance to visit Floyd during one of his basketball games. You practiced all week walking with feet just so you could run like Floyd does across the court.

Unfortunately, the tall merman was in his less-cheerful moods during this particular game. Boredom quickly struck him mid-way into the game which caused confusion for the opposing team and great distress amongst the NRC Basketball players. Jamil was quick to call for a timeout as soon as he could as the team whispered and panicked over this predicament.

But the timeout gave you a perfect chance get your brother’s attention, waving your hands as you called out to the tall merman as Jade stood by you with a genuine smile. Your other brother was quite aware of the bond his two siblings have so he took the liberty of escorting you as you were sure to get lost on Sage’s Island.

“Floyd! Over here!” You yelled out in joy, wearing a jersey similar to your brother to show off your clear bias. But that wasn’t the only similarity you shared with the teal-haired menace.

Shimmering under the gymnasium’s lights, your earring clipped onto your right ear caught Floyd’s eyes immediately.

The day Floyd and Jade made their earrings from the scales of the sturgeon they fought, you cried when there wasn’t enough to make one for you to wear as well. You pouted and glared every time Floyd flaunted his accessory to you, but when you stopped reacting, he assumed that you'd gotten over it.

But holding onto your ear, the sturgeon scales of your earring was as dazzling as your proud grin.

“Look, Floyd! We all match!” Your smile rejuvenated Floyd’s mood, making the once-moody eel grin back. When did you get that? And how did you get it? Floyd’s mind was flooded with curious questions so he soon turned to his teammates with a sadistic smile.

“I’m gonna crush the competition today. I wanna wrap this up quick, so let’s get serious~”

And Floyd started to have fun again, at the expense of the poor visiting team. How unfortunate for them, but Floyd needed to finish the game so he could hang out with his precious family after all.

“Little eel, come with me. Your big bro is gonna show you something fun!”

As seen with his approach with Floyd, Jade is type to spoil his siblings. No matter how tall you get or how old you are, you are Jade’s precious little one, and Jade loves nothing more than to watch his cherished family have fun, regardless if nobody else is having fun in the process.

Jade is the cool older brother, someone who is calm and dependable. You always admired the way he could charm the masses with his suave words and gestures. In the sea or on land, no one is better than your brother (tied with Floyd)

No matter what anyone says, Jade is the kindest eel in the entire world. To the dismay of others, you started picking up little habits and hobbies of your idol. Your classmates were baffled by the odd terrarium filled with odd marine fungi and rocks you stole from the shores of the beach.

When the NRC’s annual Halloween event opened to the public, you were all too excited to see your brothers, especially Jade, to show off your small terrarium bowl. Once you and your family made it to the last day of the Halloween festival, you rushed to the room that your brothers were managing to greet them.

Unfortunately, you were unaware of the concerning issue of Magicam monsters the students were facing.

These rambunctious visitors, who cared little for anything, accidentally knocked you to the ground with your terrarium along with it. The glass bowl was broken into pieces, your hardwork spilling onto the once clean floor. The Magicam monsters offered nothing more than an insincere apology before immediately walking away, adding it wasn’t their fault they didn’t notice you.

Jade was passing by as he immediately recognized you at first glance. He was quick to scoop you up into his arms, a rare look of distress on his face as he tried to dry your teary face. “Little one, what’s the matter?”

You sniffled as you tried to explain what transpired, how you excitedly rushed to find him to show him your terrarium you worked hard on, which was currently a mess on the alchemy room floor.

Oh my, the merman thought. This won’t do. As an older brother, Jade felt a responsibility to teach you a very important lesson. One’s deeds does not go unrepaid in turn

Floyd and Azul had to shush you as you, a true Leech, giggled watching the looks of fear painted on the poor unfortunate souls as they ran for their lives out from the alchemy room, away from Jade’s especially frightening surprise appearance.

All for the fun of Halloween, of course. Not because they dared to do wrong to Jade’s dear little eel.

“You would like to play with me today? Of course, I cannot think of a better way to spend the day.”

BONUS Floyd and Jade’s Birthday Special

“Happy birthday, big brothers!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, throwing handfuls of confetti as high as you could to cover the pillars you call your siblings. The twins chuckled over your silliness, respectively giving their thanks.

“Thanks, kiddo!”

“Thank you, little one”

Smiling, you brought out another surprise. In your hidden hands, you held two small boxes, wrapped in ribbons matching the colors of your brothers’ dorm.

“Open them, quick!” Handing it over, your brothers obeyed your wishes. Afterall, you were the few in the world that the eels would willingly listen to.

Cradled carefully in cushioned cloth, a small keychain sat comfortably in the box. One for each brother, there was a glass sculpture of a moray eel attached to the keychain, one with a basketball by its side and the other with a cute mushroom.

Floyd and Jade stood in silence as they admired the gift, clearly made with them in mind. For the final surprise, you took out your phone where a matching keychain dangled from its case. However, your moray eel sculpture was decorated with two hearts, representing your brothers, next to it.

“I made it near the lava flows on the sea floors” you smiled brightly, hoping your brothers liked them. It was hard enough to try glass blowing but you had to find glass materials that work well underwater. But it was worth it. “I wanted to give you something to remind you of home. Where I’ll always be waiting for you two”

Needless to say, Floyd and Jade were satisfied with your gift. Even after you went home, Floyd was bragging about how adorable you were as he showed it off to everybody while Jade was suddenly pulling out his phone more than usual throughout the day, just to see your present every single time.

the world of fiction

pairing: jihoon x gn!reader genre: fluff, crack, established relationship, drabble warning(s): mentions of death (of fictional characters) word count: 0.7k

summary: jihoon comes home to the sound of you crying, and he’s utterly confused as to why.

Coming home to the sound of you crying was not what Jihoon expected to be greeted with.

But he’s here now, in this very moment, feet rooted to the floor as he faintly hears your muffled sobs from the bedroom.

Jihoon freezes, racking his brain for anything that could have happened in the past twenty-four hours that could have upset you.

Did he do something wrong? Not that he’s aware of. Did you have a bad day at work? You took the day off, citing a self-care day. Are you mad that he wasn’t here to accompany you? You specifically told him not to waste his breaks despite his insistence, reassuring him that you were probably just going to sleep in and finish the manga you were hooked on recently.

Right, Jihoon’s eyes widen, you said you were going to finish the manga.

In all his years of knowing and loving you, Jihoon will never get used to the way you tend to get emotionally attached to whatever you read or watch.

To him, the ending of a story just means that he can move on to another, but to you, the ending of a story is like the end of a world you’ve grown much too fond of. The reality of having to part with the characters and the story always puts you in a depressed state for a few days at the least.

It’s why Jihoon tends to gift you books or recommend you shows that are part of a long series, so you can stay in their world for longer.

Quickly removing his shoes, Jihoon practically bolts to your shared bedroom upon recalling your plan for the day, and sure enough, you’re curled up on your side of the bed, one hand clutching the last volume of the manga Jihoon had recommended a while back and sobbing into your pillow.

You lock eyes with Jihoon’s worried ones as he stands by the bedroom door, and you start sobbing even harder.

“y/n…” Jihoon carefully walks closer towards you, slowly sitting beside you as he reaches for your free hand.

“Ji…” you whine in between sobs, “I finished the manga.”

Jihoon resists the urge to smile at how cute you’re being right now. “I know, baby. How was it?”

“It’s so… sad!” you sniffle, moving to bury your head in Jihoon’s lap as you wrap you arms around his torso. “Too many people died. But they were all reincarnated and happy at the end, so I am, too…”

Jihoon smiles, very evidently endeared by your rambling. He looks down at your tear-stricken face, wiping away your stray tears with his thumbs. “It’s a happy ending, baby, don’t cry.”

“I’m just sad that it’s over, Ji,” you pout, and Jihoon cups your face with both hands. “Thank you for recommending the manga to me.”

Jihoon hums. “It’s not over yet, you know.”

Upon processing the words that left your boyfriend’s mouth, you sit up, eyes widening in anticipation. “There’s more?”

Jihoon chuckles.

While he was picking out what to recommend to you, the deciding factor came down to its length (provided that the story was good, of course). Jihoon knew you would devour books or mangas in record speed, so he came prepared.

And what better than a manga series and an anime series?

“They adapted the manga series into an anime,” Jihoon explains, watching as your eyes light up, “It’s not complete yet, but the last arc is coming soon in the form of three movies.”

You squeal, practically pouncing on your boyfriend as you engulf him in a bear hug. Jihoon falls backwards onto the bed from the impact, laughing.

“It’s not over!” You exclaim, “Where can I watch the anime? Have you watched it yet?”

Jihoon rolls over so the both of you are now lying on your sides, looking into each other’s eyes. He shakes his head.

“I haven’t. I was waiting for you so we could watch it together.”

“I love you.” you declare immediately, and Jihoon blushes furiously before letting out the softest, most endeared laugh.

“I love you too, baby.”

Jihoon may never get used to the way you tend to get emotionally attached to whatever you read or watch, but he sure as hell will do anything to let you enjoy the various worlds you end up in for as long as possible.

a/n: i have been. like. word vomiting in my wips and i feel like everything i write is so bad it is absolutely unpublishable but i just finished demon slayer and i got so sad so i decided to write this. very self-indulgent i love demon slayer the last arc broke me and i’m so excited for the movies. need somebody to match my freak like jihoon does for reader here

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @slytherinshua @viscade @pepperonidk @belladaises @tastymintchocolate @kwantaro-deactivated20240614 @chanceonceli @hrts4hanniehae @leehanascent @nonononranghaee

masterlist

sypnosis: what happens when you wake up as your best friend (crush, actually, but nobody needs to know about that) one day...

warnings: mention of being drunk

word count: 1.1k

event masterlist

you are currently sitting on a very uncomfortable and, unfortunately, familiar bed right now. the bed is not yours, and neither is the room. it belongs to a man you know very well, though you would rather not know him at all (lies). the biggest problem is trying (and failing) to ignore the fact that said man is your best friend.

you exhale sharply. this is not how you were expecting your day to go. you’re internally grateful that it is the weekend and you won’t have to miss a class because of this. small wins, you suppose.

the feeling of being in someone else’s body is weird, no matter how familiar the person is. you’ve always seen the sharp eyes, the big hands and the defined body of your best friend, but have never felt it like this. it is a strangely intimate feeling. you stare at your hands, opening and closing them, inspecting every single crease of the skin on each knuckle.

somewhere in the back of your head, a little voice which sounds suspiciously like seungkwan’s points out how you can now look at these minute details even when you switch back. you flush at the idea but dismiss it.

standing up, you go to the full length mirror in the corner of the room. it feels like a requirement to see yourself in soonyoung’s body, to tell yourself that it is finally time to meet your soulmate, even though you’ve known him since practically forever.

he is pretty, to say the least. the bedhead is adorable and his eyes shine as if they house galaxies. you’ve always known he’s handsome, even told him so when both of you were drunk enough, but you were always so shy to actually look at him and admire. so you take your time to fully look at him, take in the slope of his nose and the plush of his lips, the softness of his cheeks and the tiny imperfections on his skin.

just as you are contemplating having a peek beneath his tee, you’re broken out of your daze, wincing when you hear a sudden thud from outside the door. you internally groan at the prospect of dealing with his roommates in this situation.

“soonyoung?” a muffled voice calls out. you sigh, not really wanting to interact with his roommates, but open the door. you’re met with the sight of a ruffled wonwoo with bed hair.

“jihoon called, asked me to wake you up. why do you look like that?” he points to the furrow of your brows.

“good morning wonwoo, y/n here.”

his face is comical as it goes through the five stages of grief and realisation dawns on his face. you would’ve laughed at his dilemma too, if the situation wasn’t so annoying.

you sigh again, louder this time, and stomp back into the room. you pick up soonyoung’s phone, grab wonwoo’s arm on the way out of the room, take the car keys and go straight to their shared car. you silently hand him the keys and get in the passenger seat. he wordlessly gets in as well and starts driving to your dorms.

you and wonwoo have always gotten along well, but this has to be the most tense silence you have ever experienced with him, aside from when the two of you get competitive while playing games.

he finally breaks the quiet when you are near the dorms. “do you really hate the idea of him being your soulmate so much?”

you let out an incredulous scoff, “i’ve dealt with this idiot for too many years, now you’re telling me i have to deal with him my entire life?” he giggles at that, “you’re glad it’s him, aren’t you?”

“...of course i am. he just has shit taste in mattresses so i barely got any sleep after the swap.” both of you give each a smile, well aware how grumpy you get with lack of sleep, and with that you reach your dorms.

soonyoung visits you so much that the receptionist lets you guys in easily, and you punch in the code to your room when you reach the door. wonwoo trails behind you as you make your way to your bedroom, to find soonyoung— or you— sprawled across the bed.

weird is an understatement for what you feel when you see yourself like this, but you push it aside. instead, you simply switch on the lights and turn off the fan, a surefire way to wake you up. as expected, soonyoung groans and sits up in a haze, swaying lightly before blinking and actually shrieking as soon as his— her’s?— eyes land on you. both you and wonwoo wince from the sheer volume of the panicked screech.

“shh, shh, shh,” you hurry forward to press your palm against his mouth, “the walls are thin, it’s just us, stop yelling!”

wonwoo excuses himself out of the room, though neither of you notice, because only a few seconds later, you feel like the room is floating upside down and suddenly, you’re facing soonyoung, still with his hand over your mouth.

shit, you’d forgotten that touching reserves the switch. both of you freeze as soon as your eyes meet, unsure what to do next. there is an awkward silence, and it really makes your brain itch because silences around soonyoung are not something that exist.

“you didn’t let me enjoy the day even a little as you,” soonyoung pouts, voice uncharacteristically soft. the complaint is so sudden and just so soonyoung, you can’t help but snort. you decide to be bold, figuring you have nothing to lose anyway.

“i mean, you can enjoy the day with me instead?”

his eyes widen as you directly address the elephant in the room. “are you really my soulmate?” he whispers, leaning forward in anticipation but also nibbling on his lip, as if he is afraid this will turn out to be a dream.

you cup his cheeks in response, the weight in your palms somehow feeling as if it belongs there, “of course i am, silly. we’re here, aren’t we?” seeing him nervous isn’t new, but its still unfamiliar, and it really makes you forget all about teasing him or acting annoyed.

“because…i like you a lot.” he avoids your gaze as he mutters the confession, and all you can do is get so incredibly endeared. “i like you a lot too, baby,” you lean forward to press your lips against his forehead as silent reassurance, a promise that you will stay for eternity.

fate has, after all, already given you a reason to stay.

taglist: @eternalgyu @aaniag @haecien @addicsvt @arafilez @kikohao @bittersweet-folder

©️ weird-bookworm 2024 . do not copy, repost, steal or translate my works in any shape, form or manner without my permission

GIGGLING. KICKING MY FEET. GOING INSANE. BlLUSHINGGG.

ateez as royals who fall for you (hyung line)

read maknae line here

genre: royalty!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, a brainrot and smutfest of royal tropes

length: 12.8k

c/w: very nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (sex work, murder, assassination, execution, mentions of misogyny)

a/n: this has simultaneously been the pride and joy of my life and the bane of my entire existence for the last 2.5 months 🥴 and tumblr is an inept incapable CLOWN who cannot handle the full 24k worth of bullet points so here is the hyung line first - maknae line coming soon (yumi @sorryimananti-romantic can vouch for my unsuccessful 3-hour attempt at formatting them into a single post)

hongjoong

pov: you're the king's royal courtesan

“fuck,” hongjoong lets out a deep growl from within his chest as his head dips down to rest against the crook of your neck. “you’re just as tight as last time”

when your hips involuntarily buck from the pleasure, he nudges your thighs further apart and keeps your wrists pinned above your head

he can’t help but let out another groan when he feels your walls clench around his cock as you adjust to his thickness

“i thought- god,” a moan escapes you after he thrusts his hips against you, “thought you never fucked the same woman twice”

“i don’t,” he simply says

and it’s true

hongjoong is one of the youngest princes to have ruled during the kim dynasty, having risen to power after the previous king succumbed early to an unknown illness

he has the choice and selection of all the courtesans available within the palace and outside its walls

hongjoong also has a reputation of being highly sought after by everybody, not just amongst courtesans

it’s not only because he is devilishly handsome, knows how to properly fuck somebody dumb, and is the literal king

the main thing that makes him so desirable and unreachable?

he never sees the same courtesan more than once

“yet here you are,” you hook your legs around hongjoong’s waist to gain leverage and meet his thrusts with your own hips, “between my legs for the second time”

you smirk when he curses and throws his head back

his grip on your wrists tightens and his voice drops dangerously low

“the first time doesn’t count because i was meant to see lady chae. so really, this is the first time i’m requesting for your services”

he silences you from retorting by pressing a bruising kiss against you, lips messily attaching to yours before trailing down the sharp angle of your jaw to bite your neck

you are a courtesan for people of nobility and royal status

part of the ‘house of flowers’ and commonly referred to as ‘flower courtesans’, you and the other women are highly-sought after for the companionship you offer

you are well protected by the house of flowers though - the services of companionship that you provide is requested by your client, but is ultimately accepted or rejected by you

lady chae, another of the flower courtesans and one of your closest friends, is requested by the king for her services

it is quite clear what it is going to entail and you both spend several of the following nights giggling and whispering scandalously to one another

whether the rumours about his stamina will be true

whether lady chae will be the first to break his one-fuck rule

except when the day of the meeting comes around, she spikes a sudden fever

lady shin, the head of the house of flowers, takes all but one look at her before ordering her to bed rest despite both of your attempts to, albeit unconvincingly, persuade lady shin that chae’s fever would only serve to help make the king’s dick warmer

lady shin is not amused to say the least

with the last minute hitch, the king agrees for you to be sent out to him as a replacement instead

and you end up being the flower courtesan who he breaks his reputed rule for

(lady chae is initially jealous, understandably)

(but very quickly, she appears to be even more excited than you are as she combs through your undergarments for the “sluttiest set” that she can find)

your attention is brought back as hongjoong flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, continuing to drag his length in and out of you while your back arches off the bed

you tease in between short breaths, “are you really bringing up another woman’s name while you have your cock inside me?”

“you brought it up first,” he reminds you, accentuating his answer with timed thrusts

you grind your hips against his, chasing more friction against your clit as you feel your high approaching

“why?” he snakes one of his hands down between your connected torsos to rub messy circles against your clit, smirking as he asks, “are you getting jealous already?”

for that, you clench down hard on his cock, immediately feeling the way it throbs inside of you as you bring him closer to his orgasm too

“as if. fuck off”

your words are hardly audible from the whines that are leaving your mouth due to the added pressure of another finger against your clit from your retaliation

“i’m close,” hongjoong releases his grip on your wrists so that he can straighten his body, anchoring his hand on your hip instead so that he can fuck you and rub your clit with his other hand with renewed vigour

when you hear him groan, “cum for me,” the string snaps and your whole body quivers in his hold as your orgasm washes over you

hongjoong’s hips gradually stutter to a pause, an occasional thrust inside your clenching pussy as he milks out the rest of his cum inside of you

he finally eases himself out of you and hums in satisfaction as he watches his cum slowly leak out of you

hongjoong drops down beside you, toned chest covered in a sheen layer of sweat as it rises up and down with his pants

when your fuzzy mind has cleared a little from the blissful haze of your orgasm, he strokes his fingertips along the side of your thigh, along the curve of your ass, and over the dip of your waist just under your breasts as he says, “you better not be jealous. first one to get jealous loses”

“if anyone’s going to get jealous first, it’s you,” you scoff back

he raises an eyebrow

oh yeah?

he shoves his leaking cum back inside of you and fingers you to another orgasm

now that shuts you up

for a man who barks, he sure has no bite, because you find yourself being notified by lady shin several days later of yet another request for your services under the king’s name

and another request turns into another

and every single time, hongjoong makes sure that the only word leaving your lips for those many hours is his moaned name

but at the same time, the more you and hongjoong meet, the more he just savours in your simple companionship

he asks you to teach him how to embroider because you’ve mentioned before it’s how you like to spend your free evenings

he rifles through your bag of materials that you bring

you smack his hand away at the carelessness with which he’s upturning everything

“what’s this?” he holds up a large, wooden hoop before trying to fit it through his head, “a necklace?”

“i wonder if people know they appointed an idiot to be king,” you say as you gently unscrew the hoops and demonstrate how to align a piece of fabric between the rings

he watches with interest as you screw the outer hoop tighter until the fabric is nice and taut and then repeat the process so you both have one to work with

you have to help hongjoong thread his needle too, because apparently the king’s fingers are only good for scissoring you open

you weave your own needle through the fabric at a slow pace whilst telling him the different names and uses of the stitches you’re showing him

except, when you look up to see if he’s following?

his own hoop has been abandoned to one side and he’s leaning against his hand as he gazes cheekily at you

“were you even paying attention?”

he sounds a little too confident when he answers not at all

in return, hongjoong shows you how to write hanja the next time you meet

he positions himself behind you with his hand over yours as he guides you through different characters stroke by stroke

he claims that there are specific ways of applying pressure to the brush so he has to be holding your hand at all times

you most definitely roll your eyes several times but you indulge him anyway

there are a lot of giggles and teasing pushes when you accidentally dip the end of your sleeve into the ink and you try to spread it onto his robes too

(the calligraphy may or may not become forgotten when hongjoong pins you down to stop your cheeky behaviour, because things naturally escalate whenever he has you under him)

you two do eventually manage to finish one decent-looking scroll of characters which he ends up gifting you so that you ‘don’t forget’ about him when you’re not with him

when you walk back into the house of flowers, the hanging scroll perks lady shin’s interest as you walk past

“hongjoong taught me how to write my name today”

lady shin waggles her eyebrows at you suggestively because of how casually you refer to the king, for which you nudge her with a shoulder

she laughs then asks to have a look

you unravel the paper to show her but then she makes a funny noise

“that’s not your name? these are the characters for- oh,” she cackles scandalously to herself, as if she has made a secret discovery

“what does it mean?” you hurry to clarify

you wouldn’t put it past him to have taught you a crude phrase instead, like ‘best tits’ or ‘biggest ass’

lady shin lets out an amused exhale, handing the scroll back to you

“it says, my flower”

you’re looking at those exact characters from where you lay on your bed when a knock sounds on your door several days later

lady shin steps into your room with a warm smile as you greet her

“you have an appointment with lord min tomorrow, but the king has just inquired about your service availability for tomorrow,” she informs you. “would you like me to give him the usual answer?”

this isn’t the first time a clash has occurred, particularly with the increasing frequency with which hongjoong requests to see you

you have always told lady shin to ask for hongjoong’s pardon and to offer him an alternative time or day, because in the end, you still need to maintain a professional and admirable reputation as a flower courtesan

and as you open your mouth to tell her ‘yes’, your eye catches the scroll hanging on your wall

my flower

you hesitate

“actually,” you look away from the hanja, “i’ll see hongjoong.”

lady shin gives you a motherly smile as she nods in understanding and closes the door behind her

the next day you see him, he excitedly points out the large tambour frame in his room that he bought just a few days prior, claiming you two can work on a big embroidery patch together now

you give him one look then demote him back to the small embroidery hoop because he still hasn’t learnt his basic stitches yet

(that’ll teach him to not pay attention when you’re demonstrating, ha)

you relent and end up going through the different stitches with him again anyway

and you find that he’s actually not that bad with embroidery once he’s actually focused on the task at hand

it’s nice, basking in each other's presence while he threads his little square of fabric and you work with the large frame you have now essentially claimed as yours

not that hongjoong minds; he did buy it solely to make you happy

and then you offhandedly mention that someone had gifted you a handkerchief with your initials embroidered on one of the corners the other day

“i actually have it on me, in fact,” and you take it out from where it’s tucked into your waist so that you can show him

he juts out his chin as he peers down at the delicate letters, huffing, “it’s pretty, i guess”

then as an afterthought he tacks on, “bet i could do a better job”

“are you jealous right now, kim hongjoong?”

said man is hellbent on avoiding your eyes as he picks up his needle and thread again

“no i’m not!”

“whatever you say,” you smirk

after that day though, you don’t receive another request from hongjoong to meet until two weeks later

which, in the grand scheme of things, really isn’t much

but in comparison to the frequency at which you are used to seeing him, the frequency at which your body is used to having him, it is much too long

you are almost beginning to wonder whether you shouldn’t have brought up the handkerchief gift

yet, he greets you with his usual teasing squeeze of your waist, dangerously close to your ass

you make a move to follow him through the doors to his chambers but he turns around to produce a silk cloth

he starts to blindfold you, whispering sultrily, “i have a surprise for you”

you feel the hairs on the back of your neck raise at his tone

guiding you inside, hongjoong gently pushes you down so that you sink into the plush duvet of his bed

“do you trust me?” he whispers

trying not to dwell on the urge to lick your dry lips, you answer, “of course”

you feel him tugging slowly on the string that holds the front of your corset together, loosening your dress with tenderness like you are a fragile gift

you shiver when your shoulders are suddenly exposed to the cold air

and then the sensation is followed by the warmth of hongjoong’s soft exhales along the expanse of your collarbones as he leans closer to fully disrobe your shoulders

you have to remind yourself to keep breathing

“you can look now,” he tells you

you remove the silk cloth from around your eyes, unsure of what to expect

it takes a few blinks to readjust your vision to the room around you but then your eyes finally focus

and you gasp

there, hung on the wall with its striking viridian green, shimmering threads and intricate swirls on glorious display, is quite possibly the most stunning dress you have ever laid eyes upon

“try it on,” he encourages

but as you step closer, you realise the lacing across the front of the corset and running down the sleeves of the top dress is in fact, not lacing

it’s patchy

it’s uneven

it has empty areas

but it is no doubt embroidery

“did you…did you make this?” you reach out a hand to lightly caress one of the embroidered flowers, not quite daring to believe that hongjoong would go to these lengths for you

“of course,” he wraps his arms around you from behind and presses a light kiss against your temple, “i’m not losing to a lousy handkerchief”

“is that why you disappeared for two weeks?”

you let out a laugh, sinking into his embrace, because the image of the great king holed up in his chambers for days on end, hunched over your dress with a needle, thread and frown on his face is just too endearing

he lets out a warning huff as he turns you around in his embrace to face him

upturning his hands, he shows you the tips of his fingers and grumbles, “i poked myself so many times for you and you laugh at me?”

you bring his hands closer to your face, pressing light kisses to his fingertips as you smile, “thank you, joong. i love it so much, i really do”

he looks at you impossibly soft

under his tender gaze, something suddenly rushes to your very core

you hold one his hands steady in front of your lips then swirl your tongue out in an experimental lick over his fingers

it’s almost captivating how quickly his pupils dilate and zero in on your tongue

so you dare to bring his fingers into your mouth

you suck on them a little harder

a little deeper

and then you moan around his fingers, “i want you”

he lets out a groan himself, feeling the front of his breeches tighten as his cock twitches

“i- fuck, i didn’t give the dress to you in hopes that it would lead to this,” yet despite his words he is stepping you backwards so that he can pin you against the wall

“i know, but i want you,” you palm his growing bulge, your knees going weak at how hard he already is. “and i need you. now.”

he doesn’t need further encouragement

he shoves the remainder of your clothes aside before inserting his fingers roughly between your folds

it doesn’t take long for him to bring you to your first orgasm, curling his fingers relentlessly as you ride them

he spreads your cum over your pussy and you buck your hips with a whine when he circles over your clit briefly

then he’s turning you around and bending you over, one of your hands bracing against the wall, your other arm held behind your back by hongjoong’s firm grasp

“fuck, you’re so wet,” his whole body shivers with pleasure as his cock slips right into you

the obscene sounds of his hips slapping against your ass and your slick being pushed back into your hole over and over again fill the room

and to the clenching of your pussy from another orgasm, hongjoong also cums into you with a guttural groan of your name

he gently carries you to his bed and lays you on top of the covers

he leaves your side for a moment and you listen to him rummage through something while you try to regain control of your quaking legs

when he comes back, you feel him gently spreading your legs and then the ticklish sensation of a soft cloth along your inner thighs

a whine escapes your lips when he rubs over your sensitive clit and hongjoong grips your thigh a little tighter

“be careful what pretty sounds you’re making if you can’t handle another round”

it isn’t until he finishes cleaning you up and lies down next to you to start wiping himself down that you look over and realise what it is that he’s been using this whole time

your mouth drops in disbelief

when hongjoong notices your expression, he smirks, “the man who gave you this has no idea his handkerchief is being used to clean my cum off your thighs”

“hongjoong!” you flush with a laugh. “you are definitely jealous, aren’t you?”

“yes, i’m fucking jealous,” he growls, “you’re the only one i want. you’re the only woman i’ve been requesting for since i’ve seen you. and i want to be the only one who gets to have you, too”

you confess, “well, you can have all of me. because i’ve started refusing other people just for you”

he looks at you for another moment before he’s suddenly straddling your hips

“change of plans,” he says breathily, “i need you again”

“very good plan,” you grind up against him

and then you pause, mirth starting to bubble in your throat, “one last thing though”

hongjoong looks down with amusement in his own eyes, wondering what could possibly be so funny

“that handkerchief?” you start, struggling not to laugh when his eyes immediately narrow, “i never said it was from a man. it was a gift from lady chae”

seonghwa

pov: you're his royal guard

as soon as you notice the movement out of the corner of your eye, your body reacts straight away

you murmur seonghwa’s name with a tight voice and move to position yourself in front of him, unwilling to risk the prince’s safety

one of your hands grasps the hilt of your sword, ready to unsheathe it at the first sign of danger, as your calculative gaze darts between the two young men stumbling closer on the dirt path and the line of forest trees from which they appear

they are wearing simple tunics and breeches with their colour faded and seams loosening from wear

from what you can discern, they are simply commoners, but that does not rule out the possibility that they are bandits

seonghwa seems to think otherwise, though

unsurprising but still grating

the prince places his hand on your shoulder gently in a silent reassurance and request for you to step aside

albeit reluctantly, you force yourself to move to his left

it becomes clear to you as the two figures stop just shy of a few feet away that the term ‘men’ was pushing it - their faces are young and they appear to be no older than seventeen or eighteen

the young strangers dip their head in greeting, one of them apologising as well as he pulls out a tattered map that he extends out for you two to see

“my companion and i are traveling to the village norshaw but seem to have lost our way. would you be able to point us in the right direction?” the one with the map asks

“of course,” seonghwa offers with a kind smile

you watch as the three of them step closer together to look more closely at the map

on high alert, and just as you are predicting, you see the companion shuffle closer to seonghwa, hand inching towards the leather pouch that hangs from the prince’s belt

you catch the subtle motion of seonghwa’s eyes flickering down just an inch

because of how well you understand his body language, you know that it means he has already noticed the thieving intention

but because of how well you understand seonghwa, you know that he isn’t going to do anything about it either

so you strike in his stead

your hand darts out to snatch the thieve’s wrist, twisting his forearm upwards so that he is forced to lean awkwardly towards one side to prevent his elbow from snapping

his partner drops the map, letting out a string of curses and hesitating for all but three seconds before he turns around to flee

scoffing, you threaten the one who is still in your hold, who then bolts with his tail between his legs after you release him

"did you really need to scare them off like that? it's not like i had any money in the pouch anyway," seonghwa chastises with a chuckle

"yes," you deadpan. "i did not spend the last two hours of our trip pausing every fifty meters to wait for you to pick up a rock because you thought it looked pretty, only for them to be stolen by a pair of petty thieves"

"it would have been funny to imagine their faces after realising what they stole," seonghwa grins

“mhm,” you hum, “and the next thing you know, you’ll wake up to your palace ransacked, because word in town is that you can steal from the prince and get away with it”

he levels you with a boyish scowl, “you’re so dramatic. what are you, my mother?”

“no, but i am your royal bodyguard”

“exactly. you are my bodyguard, not my brainguard. if i am to be swindled of my pretty rocks, then so be it”

you roll your eyes out of exasperation, but everything is swiftly forgotten minutes later when you point out a heart-shaped rock and seonghwa rushes over to pick it up

it has been like this ever since the incident occurred - him, the sunshine; you, the sunshine protector

it has been almost four years since it happened

somebody had attempted arsenic poisoning of not only seonghwa, but also those working under him

you had noticed strange discolouring of the silverware in the kitchen and on the table serving his dinner, which prompted an investigation and subsequent discovery of the perpetrator

an act of betrayal and treachery by one of his closest relatives - his very own uncle

seonghwa was - still is - too merciful and tender-hearted to punish his uncle, even if the severity of his uncle’s crimes warranted execution

to have his trust broken so shatteringly hurt seonghwa more than if he were to actually have been poisoned

you still remember like it was yesterday; the sight of the prince slumped against the wall, weighed down by chains of turmoil and despair as whispers fly through the palace of the weak-hearted prince who is unable to deliver fair judgement

it is the sight of the prince looking so small and lost that drives your feet forward to stand before him

as the soft draught coming through the windows tugs gently on your tresses and the flickers of candlelight illuminate the glint of steel in your hand, you make a decision

“i’ll be your sword,” you pledge

not just as his royal guard, but as his haven when he is forced to face corruption and wickedness

and when you see the way his shoulders immediately sag with relief at your declaration, the way he nods like a child who has been reassured that everything will be okay, you tell yourself that seonghwa will never have to dirty his hands as long as you are with him

you will be the dark to his light; the yin to his yang

quietly, you see to it that his uncle is executed for his crimes - your statement to the rest of the palace that prince seonghwa is not to be mocked

neither of you bring it up again, but seonghwa knows

he pulls you into a wholehearted hug, arms enveloping you securely as his chest shakes with shuddering breaths of thank you over and over again

you rub your hand up and down his sturdy back soothingly

it is an action that simultaneously reciprocates his embrace and his crossed line of professionalism

one that starts the shift in dynamic between you both, boundaries of sought comfort blurring with friendship and then something more

where seonghwa is too trusting and too soft-spoken, you become his skepticism and his voice

“you should be more wary of others,” you always remind him

“and you should be more trusty of others,” he’ll retort

yet, he will never make a decision that does not receive your input nor one that you do not agree with

where seonghwa is too gentle and too humble, you become his sword and his shield

you do not waver when you strike down foe, and friends turned foe alike

you speak up and establish firm boundaries when others take advantage of the respect he shows everybody regardless of their class or status

and yet, if you find yourself on the receiving end of someone’s condescension or discriminatory treatment, be it due to your rank as a guard or identity as a woman, seonghwa will be advancing forward to defend you before you can do so yourself

where seonghwa is too innocent and too bushy-tailed, you become his eyes and his caution

your morning walks together always last for longer than they are scheduled for

he stops to watch every butterfly and bumblebee that flutters along the flowery path, and he waits for caterpillars to crawl onto a leaf that he holds by the stem so that he can move the critters off the pathway

you love to watch him and his glittering eyes, his cheeks rosy from happiness and from the air still crisp with morning dew

but you also make sure to watch his surroundings with greater vigilance because the quiet peace that the freshly awoken sun brings simultaneously increases the likelihood of a targeted attack against him

as much as you rib him for being a marshmallow personified, however, and as much as he banters back that you are more than welcome to resign at any time, neither of you want it any other way

seonghwa carries out a lot of gestures that he justifies to himself as being eternally grateful for you and the things you do for him

he likes to gift you flowers he has plucked from his garden or the bushes he walks past that remind him of you

(“that’s actually just a very pretty-looking weed, but thank you, seonghwa,” you tell him on more than one occasion)

(it’s adorable, because the next time he finds a flower, he goes to the length of certifying that it is indeed a flower with the merchant who sells bouquets in the nearby town before presenting it to you, eyes gleaming with pride)

you stand still and let him tuck a flower behind your ear, sometimes braiding your hair gently so that he can weave and secure the stem into your hair, holding your breath as his features fill with the same enrapturement that he would admire a beautiful artwork with

after you voice this out one day, seonghwa supposes to himself that there is not much difference between an artwork and you

not that he’s attracted to you or anything - you just…have an objectively attractive face

yes.

especially when your usually-piercing expression is softened by fatigue, guard no longer up as you sleep slumped over a desk while accompanying him during his late night of studies

he does not realise his feet have moved until he is right beside your resting form, as if the soft exhales escaping from your slightly parted lips are a siren’s song

seonghwa tenderly brushes your stray locks away from your face and behind your neck

except he forgets to account for the fact that you are trained to sleep on the brink of consciousness

the squeal that leaves his mouth when your reflexes kick in and you almost slit his throat resounds at a frequency so high you almost believe it comes from your own mouth

you have a grand time watching his beet red face stutter out an excuse as to what exactly he was doing so close to you

needless to say, that is the last time seonghwa ever tries to do anything while you are sleeping

but as much as he bumbles around, he also reveals his perceptiveness when you least expect it

like now, as you accompany the prince to one of his meetings with numerous advisors and ministers

it is relatively dull and uneventful, mostly a cordial appearance to maintain amicable and loyal relationships with his subjects

conversation is limited to pleasantries and at one point, seonghwa even points out the calligraphy paintings hung at the back of the room

everyone nods with throaty laughs as if the paintings are indeed the most exquisite and tasteful artworks they have ever laid their eyes upon

when you and seonghwa arrive back at his chambers following the conclusion of the meeting, he walks over to his bed and shakes the sleeves of his robe over the expanse of his duvet

and out drops a neatly-wrapped sweet, followed by another, then another, until there are enough to amount to two handfuls

baffled, you look at seonghwa, because these are the very same treats that had been plated on the tables during the meeting

“you smuggled candy out of the room?” you try to keep the amusement out of your voice

he peers into his sleeves to ensure there are no more stragglers, before turning to face you as he waves his hands over the small collection of goods on his bed

as if they are-

“for you!” he exclaims almost proudly. “i saw you eyeing them during the meeting so i took some for you”

okay

most definitely proudly 

you feel something tickling you from within, as if he has reached through your chest to directly caress your heart with a delicate finger

“when did you even…” your voice trails off when it comes out a little fonder than you are expecting it to

“remember the paintings i pointed out?” seonghwa giggles, and you think that the hand in your chest is now cradling your heart completely. “i swiped the sweets when everyone was looking back at them”

“thank you, hwa,” you settle on saying, because you do not trust yourself to say anything else

that is more than enough for him, though

which, of course it is - this is seonghwa, with his huge heart that fills easily with the smallest of things

he eagerly hands you one of the treats and you unwrap it to place into your mouth

you’ve had these before, but this one that he has specially grabbed for you tastes remarkably sweeter

you wonder if his lips will taste the same…

but then you accidentally bite your tongue, hard enough to draw blood, and you realise just how wrong you are for letting those fleeting thoughts into your mind

because while you navigate the world in thick droplets of red and sharp glints of silver, seonghwa sees the world in soft hues of pastel and gleaming rays of yellow

how could the two palettes ever blend together harmoniously?

so instead, you grant yourself one last moment of selfishness and pull him into a hug, a gesture that toes the already shaky borders of professionalism yet can still be excused under the guise of friendship

you realise that he has always meant much more to you, but that is what this will stay as - a mere realisation

seonghwa wraps his arms around your form as he relaxes into the way your bodies naturally meld together

it’s strange how easily you slot into his life, his thoughts, his heart

he wonders whether it’s possible for feelings of appreciation to run so deeply and potently within somebody, like a drug that he cannot get enough of

and when you take a step away from him, leaving his chest feeling physically and emotionally empty, he wonders if he is perhaps…

in love with you

following that incident, it is almost as if a switch flips - both of you take several steps away from the line that has been danced around

but neither of you notice the distance because you are both consumed by your own thoughts

until one of your usual morning walks around the castle walls of his palace

seonghwa is wondering whether the bushes you walk past remind you of the flowers he used to gift you and you are debating whether to reach out to brush a petal out of his half ponytail 

then, like deja vu, your eyes flicker towards the burst of movement as a figure covered in black comes darting forwards with their blade raised intended for murder

you immediately start to unsheathe your sword, feet poised and prepared to defend-

until you are harshly tugged back and the prince steps in front of you to parry the strike that the assassin tries to land

it takes your lifetime of training and experience to snap back into focus and thrust your sword into the enemy’s exposed side

when you are sure he is dead, you whirl around to descend upon seonghwa with a voice trembling from both anger and relief

“what in the world were you thinking?” you yell

“i-”

taking a step forward, you toss your sword to one side, “no, actually. you weren’t thinking at all”

“i was afraid that you would get hurt!” he takes his own step closer

“that is my duty!” the volume of your voice raises even more. “i am willing to lay down my life to ensure your safety! i have been guarding you for years now and you have never acted this way. what has changed?”

for a moment, the only sound that punctuates the silence is your harsh breathing

seonghwa swallows

“my feelings…” he whispers, a stark contrast to the peak of emotions you have been riding. “my feelings for you have changed”

your throat tightens at his words

it is your turn to whisper, a noise of confusion leaving your lips

he takes another step closer, bringing himself to stand right in front of you as he looks down earnestly into your eyes

“i’d rather be the protector, and you be the protected”

“but…why?” your heart races with anticipation

“because i’m in love with you” 

right at the invisible border that has been separating you two for as long as you have been his guard, seonghwa now stands, hands wringing together as he awaits a response

“then that makes the two of us,” you confess

you step forward to take your familiar spot on the other side of the line, except this time you do not stop

you stride over the boundary completely to stand by his side

raising yourself onto your tiptoes, you pull him down slightly by the front of his doublet so that you can press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips

it stretches wider and curves upwards under the nurturing of your own smile

you can’t help but give him another kiss on the other side of his mouth to match the one you just gave him

“from now on,” seonghwa starts, “i’ll be your sword”

you wouldn’t really, and you will fight him to let you continue being his guard, but that doesn’t stop one last teasing question from escaping you

“does this mean i get to retire?”

yunho

pov: you're part of a rebel group

the crown prince is not in his fucking library

for the past three weeks, the crown prince has always been in the royal library at night

until today

under normal circumstances, his royal guards and staff would be alerted to ensure that the deviance in routine is a conscious decision and not an issue of the crown prince missing

except doing that would make your job significantly harder…

considering you have been ordered to assassinate him.

you’re part of the ‘red sun’, a revolutionary movement aiming to overthrow the current monarch

following the debilitating state of the king after falling ill and the subsequent coronation of queen jeong into power, she has since then established numerous royal decrees to keep everyone under her reign on a tight leash

a leash made of barbed wire

people are quick to become resentful and thirsty for an end to the dictatorship and bloodline

although he has made limited public appearances, the crown prince has also developed a reputation rivaling the queen’s

within the second year of the jeong dynasty, red sun has already amassed a multitude of supporters

the focus is currently on growing in numbers, preparing for an imminent revolution and picking off corrupt royals and noblists, be it through incrimination or assassination

dealing with those in positions of higher power is a task only completed by an elite selection of red sun rebels who have distinguished skills and traits that set them apart from peasants and commoners

and you are amongst the elite team

which is why you find yourself staking out on the tiled roof of the imperial palace, clothed in black with a mask and hooded cowl covering your face that blends you in with the darkness of night, on the orders of a higher-up to assassinate the crown prince

except the target is missing; the information you were given is wrong

which never happens

you can’t risk staying around for much longer, especially now that the crown prince has broken his routine

he could be anywhere and so could his royal guards

you shift your body to a crouch and place your hands on the cool tiles beneath you, ready to leave

only to spot a figure, crouched just like you are, on the opposite side of the roof

their face is a black hole of nothing within the shrouded confines of their hood, but you can feel their gaze piercing into you all the same

you run

you scramble to the edge of the roof and nimbly leap off the curved eaves to the neighbouring structure of the study room

when you glance backwards, you see the man - physique now obvious - is keeping up easily along the stepping stones of roofs

this game of cat and mouse isn’t going to work for long

if you don’t get caught by him first, you’re both going to get caught by the palace guards

so you make a split decision and alter your next trajectory lower

keeping your arms outstretched for the eaves, you grab on tightly when your fingers touch the edge of the roof and use your core to kick your legs up to stop your body from slamming into the wall from the momentum of your jump

you let go and drop to the ground like a feline, noiseless, and slink towards a line of trees

then you wait

he’s good, you note to yourself, when the only sound that alerts you to his presence is the quick scuffle of his feet as he softens his impact against the wall and the muted thud of his body landing on the ground

“state your purpose,” he demands, voice low yet firm

you ignore him to ask, “who are you?”

now up close, you can see that the man is wearing attire almost the same as you are, identity also hidden by the his bandana and hood-

wait

even the dark red stitching that subtly replaces the original seam on the right shoulder of his outer clothing is the same

the same as those on the elite team

“one of you,” he confirms your suspicions

except you don’t recognise his voice nor his build

being one of the earliest members of the rebel organisation, you are familiar with all the members who carry out missions like yours

he is not one of them; not one you can trust yet

when you don’t speak, he adds on, “we need to go. the safehouse might be in danger”

we

he refers to the two of you so easily, as if you and him are an unspoken team

you cannot trust this man until you know for sure he is part of red sun, so you ask him

“when is red most beautiful?”

it is a vague question with a fixed answer

one that reflects the heart of the revolutionary itself

during the sunrise of a new beginning 

“during the sunrise of a new beginning,” the man says resolutely

the tension releases from your shoulders 

“okay,” you opt to abandon your original mission. “let’s check on the safehouse”

the man offers you a hand to hike yourself up onto one of the outer walls of the palace before he jumps up himself with ease

you both flip over the top and land in unison

the moon illuminates the ground beneath your feet as you both sprint into the surrounding forest

the safehouse is really just a small hut situated far enough from the palace to stay inconspicuous, yet not close enough to the outer borders of the kingdom to risk discovery by the frequent border patrols

you both slow down as you approach the clearing, steadying your breaths and treading with cautious steps

and then you hear it

the shattering clang of a desperate parry

all it takes is a quick glance at the man by your side before your eyes harden with purpose and your steps are dashing in unison towards the hut

you’re both hit with the smell of a metallic tang in the air, and it’s not from your drawn swords

bursting through the door, you quickly take in the scene before you

several red sun members are scattered around the hut and slumped in varying degrees of injury

it’s easy to spot the intruder; they’re yanking their sword out of a body’s torso as they simultaneously turn to look at you

and it’s hard to miss the royal insignia of the jeong monarch on their chest plate

you have the element of surprise

but only for the next few seconds

you leap forward with the thud of footsteps of your partner following almost immediately, side-stepping once you close the distance to dodge a haphazard swing

there’s a brief break in defense when the enemy tries to aim for another strike that leaves the gap in the side of their armour exposed

you feel the slight resistance of your sword entering flesh as you thrust it forward into them

except when you try to tug it back out, a hand grasps your own and the hilt of your sword, stopping you from stepping away

the enemy has realised they are not going to make it out of this alive

but if they are to die, then they are going to take one last person with them

you.

you see glint of metal as they use their other hand to swing their sword down onto you, only for it to be deflected at the last second by another sword

the man you have met for barely an hour is now at your side with his towering protectiveness

in one smooth kick, his long leg sends the other careening into the wall of the hut with a mighty slam

you feel yourself jerking forward from the enemy’s grasp still on your hand

but the man next to you quickly tucks you into his side before you are also sent sprawling

“check on the others,” he briefly says, and then he is striding towards the fallen intruder

you only spare him another quick glance and then you rush to the nearest figure on the ground

you go around checking for pulses, and for those who are still breathing, the extent of their injuries

there are several casualties but nowhere near as many if you and the man had not come to check on the safehouse

which suddenly makes you pause in your tracks

how did he know about the attack in the first place?

you stretch your legs from their squatted position next to one of the red sun members and turn around to confront him

except…the man has disappeared

and so has the intruder’s body

days later, the question of whether you will chance upon the man again tonight flits through your mind when you find yourself perched in the very same spot on the tiled roof of the palace that gives you a clear view of the royal library

you have received another order to assassinate the crown prince as soon as you see the opportunity arise

this time, the note is accompanied by a cyanide capsule, a non-verbal message that this mission is to occur with your life on the line

you spot him

he’s preoccupied by the scroll in his hand as he makes his way through the shelves of parchments

you wait until he’s walked far enough into the library before you drop down from the roof, keeping your stance low to ensure you stay hidden as you silently move closer

you take out the jagged dagger from its sheath by your waist as you anticipate it will be too difficult to wield your long sword in the narrow aisles

and there the crown prince stands

he has his back to you, exposing him to your mercy

mercy that you have no intention of showing him

the cruel heir to the throne of an even crueler dictatorship deserves none

“it’s you again, isn’t it?”

you freeze

the crown prince still has not turned around to address you, but you can feel the dark gaze of his eyes on you as if he were looking at you

“you were here a few days ago”

fuck

how he knows you have no idea

what you do know though is that you have about two seconds to make a move before you lose this chance to assassinate him completely, and quite possibly, lose your life as well

the pill you have hidden in the breast of your tunic feels heavy

“you are part of red sun, are you not?”

this time the crown prince does turn around to face you, but it isn’t the nonchalance with which he reveals your identity that makes your head reel

it is the warmth and softness in his gaze and the hint of a smile on his face that does

what the actual fuck

you’re convinced that the crown prince is not only heinous, but also batshit crazy

“i am,” you spit out at him, “with orders to assassinate you, in fact”

his mouth thins into a tight line, “the orders you have received are false”

“sounds exactly like something a crown prince would say to avoid being assassinated,” you scoff

but then his next words change everything

“red is most beautiful during the sunrise of a new beginning”

before you have time to fathom the bomb that has just been dropped, your heads swivel simultaneously towards the entrance of the royal library when a voice calls out for the crown prince

“hide,” he hisses urgently

and then he’s stepping further away to conceal your presence as best as possible

you hear the shuffle of footsteps approaching before they stop, dangerously close to where you’re crouched behind a bookshelf

“apologies for interrupting your time, crown prince,” they say

from where you are you can see the crown prince’s expression clear as he lets out a small huff, “i have told you many times to just call me yunho”

“of course, crown prince yunho”

even though you can’t see the other person’s expression, you can hear the amusement in their voice

they continue, “i have the information you have requested for”

“thank you,” you see him - yunho - receive a small scroll. “the queen does not know?”

“no, i made sure to be as discreet as possible”

yunho thanks the other once again and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets when he bows his head in appreciation as he dismisses them

is this the same crown prince as the rumours?

and what is he doing behind his mother’s back?

you don’t realise you’ve been staring dumbly at him until he’s back in front of you with amusement on his face

he stands tall and proud, robes accentuating his stature and nobility

“who exactly are you,” you dare to ask

your voice is small - you feel small, crouched at his feet like a stark physical representation of the power he holds over you

but then he takes yet another step closer and kneels down so that your eyes meet at the same level

“i am the leader of red sun. the creator of the whole revolution”

your ankles actually do give out at that and you have to seat yourself on the floor

because how is any of this possible?

you must have voiced your thoughts out loud, because before you know it, yunho is crossing his legs and making himself comfortable on the floor right in front of you

it makes you feel so strange

the crown prince’s willingness to make himself an equal before you - and even to his staff from earlier

yunho starts to explain

a change in monarch, particularly one of such dictatorship, requires massive momentum and synergy; something he cannot produce alone nor without the support of the people

thus, red sun came into existence for the exact same reason you and all the other supporters have joined

in hopes of a sunrise one day that marks a new beginning

a new leadership

except recently he has had growing suspicious of the presence of a traitor within the organisation, which were confirmed the night the safehouse was attacked

“that night…that man was you,” you realise, “and that’s how you know who i am”

he nods, “and that’s also how i know your orders are false.” yunho nudges you playfully with his knee, “pretty sure i never ordered for my own assassination”

yunho continues to explain that he had taken the intruder back for interrogation, but then you frown when he reveals the enemy had swallowed a suicide pill before any information could be gained

he has an inkling that someone in a high position of power is involved, since the pills are almost impossible to gain access to, but it cannot be ruled out as a coincidence

“hang on,” you pull down the top of your tunic in a hurry

yunho scrambles to cover his eyes and turns his head as he jokingly sputters out, “woah okay, this is moving a little fast don’t you think?”

you tug impatiently on the sleeve of his robe, telling him to look

yunho hesitates for another second before lowering his hands and realising you have-

“a suicide pill?” 

you look at each other, because this can only mean one thing

the pills are not a coincidence; the enemy is much closer than yunho would like

you’re both unsure how much time there is until the traitor decides to order someone else to assassinate yunho, or worse, decides to finish the job off themselves

but from that very night of discovery, you and yunho work together incessantly against a ticking time bomb

it’s a delicate balance between finding as many leads as you can and spreading out your investigations to stay under the radar

yunho tries to look further into the cyanide pills while you try to uncover any information regarding the order you had been given

whoever is behind it all has kept their tracks hidden well

there isn’t much to report from either of your ends whenever you sneak into the palace to meet up with yunho

but he makes it very hard for you to feel discouraged when he makes your meetings seem like casual catch ups between - you dare say - friends

you have yet to catch him by surprise whenever you drop down from the roof in front of him in an attempt to scare him; he has an uncanny ability to sense your presence

except, you think you prefer being unsuccessful, because your indignant grumbles never fail to bring out his toothy grin and an excited body jiggle

other times he is the one trying to fluster you

“remember that time you literally tried undressing yourself in front of me-”

“i was taking the pill out to show you!” 

you bring your thumb and index finger closer together in front of your face and squint at the gap

“i am this close to changing my mind and assassinating you after all”

he gets a kick out of it, pretending to beg for your mercy, “oh please spare me, your majesty”

other times, yunho teases you for always keeping your cowl and mask on

“bet it’s because you’re ugly or something,” he jokes

and you bite back that he had his face covered too when you both met, so you’re one to talk, ugly

“but since then i’ve always shown you my face as the crown prince. you can see me nice and clear,” he suddenly leans forward, so close you can see the dip of his cupid’s brow. “what do you think about me now?”

you swallow hard

you’re glad you have your mask on because you can feel your face rapidly heating up

“i think…” you gently cup his jaw, “you look better with your mask on,” as you nudge his face to the side

you cannot help but join in with your own chuckles at his laughter and boyish glee

and eventually, you two have a breakthrough

yunho manages to trace the cyanide back to a traveling merchant operating under the guise of selling rare herbs and medicine

in the transaction ledger, there is an unusually large purchase under the name of ‘lee minjun’

“i’m sure i’ve seen the name before somewhere, but i can’t remember where,” yunho huffs

you let out your own huff at his elbow that has very naturally taken a rest on your shoulder

pulling out a stack of paper, you spread it out onto the table before you two

they are past records of certain red sun missions that, upon looking back, seem suspicious

“i noticed a mark on a couple of them, a drawing or character perhaps? except none of them are fully intact. it’s almost like the paper was accidentally marked”

you point them out to yunho in hopes that he will have a better idea

he doesn’t - not at first

not until he chances upon two that vaguely align with each other to form a clearer image

“this-” yunho runs his hand through his hair, “this is butler lee’s stamp. my father’s butler.”

the king’s butler?

lee?

your eyes snap to yunho’s, just as his meet yours

“lee minjun”

you sink back in your seat

there’s now definite proof that the king’s butler is at the very least involved

the question of why and what for remains

in fact, you and yunho would not put it past the queen either to be involved too

there is a long moment of shared silence as you both mull over what this means for the future

yunho breaks the silence first

“after this all ends…do you want to work for me, officially?” he clears his throat, “will you stay by my side?”

after this all ends

you two must still uncover butler lee’s motives; likely part of a much grander scheme involving queen jeong too

you two must still bring down the whole monarch; with the support of red sun, yunho needs to sit on his rightful throne

the sun has yet to rise but you can see the faint hues of orange and twilight blue in the horizon

the new beginning is close

and at that, something in you relaxes

crumbles and disintegrates with utter relief

“it would be my honour to stay by your side forever, yunho”

and then you are removing your hood and mask, daring to breathe and feel alive and hopeful for once

ironically, yunho chokes on air

you glance at him to find that he is unable to meet your eyes

you think your eyes are deceiving you because-

the tips of his ears are a glowing red

you could definitely get used to seeing the usually calm and collected crown prince become a shy, blushing mess

the corner of your mouth rises with smugness, “like what you see?”

“you should really keep your hood and mask on,” he mumbles

“and why is that?” you humour him

he finally looks at you

and when he sees the shit-eating grin plastered across your face, his shoulders suddenly fill out again with confidence and cockiness to match yours

“because,” his voice deep and flirtatious, “with a pretty face like that, you’re going to distract me from my duties”

yeosang

pov: you're in an arranged marriage with him

ever since you could understand the words coming out of your parents’ mouths, you have known that you will be married to yeosang

it just made sense

for the respective princess and prince of two powerful kingdoms to join together, leading to increased power and stronger allies

it is tradition for the pair to meet their chosen spouse for the first time only when both parties have turned sixteen, and even then, subsequent meetings are rare until the time of the actual wedding

so you spend the first sixteen years of your life infatuated with the idea of your prince charming - of prince yeosang - wondering what he looks like, what his personality is like, and how you two will fall in love

and when you finally reach that long-awaited first meeting, prince charming is everything and more than what you have envisioned

if angels with broken wings were exiled to earth, they would look like yeosang

he is soft-spoken and slightly reserved, as any awkward teenager meeting their future spouse would be, but you don’t miss the way that his eyes overflow with adoration and his shoulders shake with exuberant giggles whenever his little sister, yeoreum, comes tottering into the room

he always bends down onto one knee to match her eye level, uncaring of the stains that mark his pants even as his mother narrows her eyes in disdain, and he listens with utmost sincerity when yeoreum tells him about the secret pink and glittery fairy she spotted in the courtyard 

they remind you of the relationship you share with your own little brother, juwon, who is barely half your age and height, yet has you wrapped around his little finger

you lean down closer with a hum at the soft tug on your dress to hear your little brother whisper conspiratorially into your ear, “he looks stupid”

if looks could kill, yeosang would be dead right now

you stifle a laugh as you flick juwon’s chin affectionately at his sudden display of childish jealousy

if anything, you’re pretty sure you are the one who looks stupid

stupidly in love

because walking away from that first meeting with yeosang and his family, you know that you are absolutely smitten for the prince

unable to quell the restlessness of having to wait until the next unforeseeable meeting, you pick up a quill that very same day you return to your palace and start writing

it takes you all night, the gentle gleams and winks of the stars keeping you company until they rotate shifts with the songs of the waking world

but by the time you have crossed out and scrunched your way through rolls and rolls of parchment paper, you are satisfied with the letter you have written

the letter addressed to prince yeosang, which you task eunju, one of your maids, with passing it to the royal couriers for delivery to the kang palace

it is a simple letter, thanking him for the enjoyable day, yet it holds the deeper message that you are interested in him and would like to become better acquainted before your marriage

you wonder whether his cheeks will flush a pretty red as his butler hands him your letter

whether he will trace his fingers delicately over the curve of your words

whether he will bite back a smile as he pictures you saying the words to him

two weeks pass, and you approximate the letter to have just been delivered to his kingdom

and although you desperately wish for him to immediately sit down with a quill in hand to pen out his reply, you wait and give him a week before you eagerly start counting down the days until the arrival of his letter

your whole life you have been able to wait patiently

you wonder what has changed now that mere weeks feel like an eternity

the day yeosang’s letter is due to arrive, you are sporadic bursts of giggles, twirls and skips throughout the palace

even juwon is starting to become sick of getting swept up into a crushing hug to the cheery tune of i loveee youuuu every single time you pass him

nothing can bring you down from cloud nine

only…the letter never comes

not the day after, not the week after, not the month after

you’re disappointed, of course, but you busy yourself with reasons why yeosang has not replied, and you don’t give up

you send him another letter, and then another, and another

sometimes you just tell him about your day - what made you smile, what made you sad, something interesting you saw, something your little brother said

other times you tell him about yourself - your hobbies, likes and dislikes, aspirations, fears 

and you also wonder about him

you ask what he likes, what he smiles at, what makes him sad, what his dreams are

with each letter that you hand over to eunju to be delivered, it becomes harder and harder to stay optimistic - not even the words of encouragement from your favourite maid lifts your spirits

you continue like this for over a year, still yet to receive a reply 

until-

you do.

it feels like you are brought back to that very night of your first meeting, feeling so very alive as hope and excitement cascade into your body the moment eunju hands you a letter with a smile

with shaking hands, you fumble to unpeel the wax seal and free the envelope’s contents - a single piece of paper, neatly folded

your mind races with anticipated words and explanations

perhaps he had been too shy to reciprocate your letters earlier

or perhaps your letters had been lost in transit

you unfold the parchment as the hairs on your skin raise in anticipation, only to find it blank save for one scrawled sentence in the middle of the paper-

stop sending me letters.

and just like that, the clock strikes twelve

your carriage reverts into a pumpkin

and your carefully curated story of prince charming disintegrates into ashes

you don’t write to him again.

years later, the stacks of parchment scrolls on the wooden desk of the guest room you are currently residing in feel like a fresh slap in the face each time your eyes land on them

they are a stark reminder of your very own letters, the cold rejection you received, and the irony of the only letter you ever received again following his being one from the kang monarchs, announcing the proceeding of the royal wedding between you and their son

now, only a few days newly-wed to yeosang, the king and queen are gracious enough to let you sleep in one of the guest rooms temporarily, under your claims of adjusting to a life in a new kingdom and as a wife

really, you are trying to avoid yeosang for as long as you can

you spend your time instead getting to know his little sister better, which is why you find yourself sitting side by side with yeoreum, legs dangling off the edge of your bed

she eyes the vase of flowers on your bedside table curiously, “did you buy that?”

“no,” you reach out to touch the baby’s breath, “someone delivered it to my room”

you had offhandedly mentioned to some of your staff the other day that flowers would make your room look more homey, and you had woken up the morning after to find the beautiful vase teeming with flowers next to you

“why?” you ask yeoreum when she hums thoughtfully

“it looks just like the vase in my brother’s room, but he’s weird about it. yeo never lets anyone touch it, much less have it”

you blanch a little, “in that case i’ll give it back to him later then”

“you don’t like it? or…you don’t like my brother? my brother talks about you a lot, you know,” she reveals

caught off-guard by her perceptiveness, you reveal that you have been hurt before

you don’t specify by what exactly or who it is that you’re talking about, but she seems to understand regardless

later that night, sweet yeoreum barges into yeosang’s room and with as much feistiness as she can muster, she glares at her brother and interrogates, “what did you do to make her upset?”

before he can so much as blink, yeoreum concludes, “you boys are dumb. go talk to her and fix it or something,” and then walks out with a huff

there’s no one there to witness it, but yeosang nods anyway

heart feeling a little heavy after your conversation with yeoreum, you head towards the kitchen to seek solace in the sweet pastry you are usually served each morning

the first time you tasted the danish pastry, decorated with strawberries and cream cheese, was when you had traveled to yeosang’s palace at the age of sixteen for your first meeting

you remember the blissful expression that had bloomed across your face with your initial bite, and no dessert ever captivated your tastebuds quite the same way ever again

if there is one good thing out of this arranged marriage with yeosang, then it would be the reunion between yourself and the strawberry danish

“your highness,” the head chef bows, followed by the rest of the staff in the kitchen, “how may we help you?”

when you ask for one of the pastries, the head chef apologises that there are none

“but we can make you one now, if you do not mind waiting”

you tell him not to go to the trouble and ease his worries, “i just thought there may have been leftover pastries”

“we make only one fresh every morning, specifically for you,” the chef explains, and confusion must settle across your features because he adds on, “his highness has expressed that you may like them”

oh?

flustered, you can only muster a short response of, “i do, thank you,” before you smile once more and excuse yourself

because of all people to notice and remember such a small detail, and then to go out of their way to put in the request with the kitchen on the off chance that it was still true, it was yeosang? 

first the vase, and now this

you feel something deeply buried inside of you start to stir but you rush to nip it in the bud

your head and your heart are beginning to wage war against each other and suddenly everything feels like it’s too much

when you reach your bedroom, you throw open the double doors to step out onto the balcony, welcoming the chilling breeze of the darkening sky

you’re tired of fearing rejection if you open up

you’re tired of questioning yeosang’s intentions

and on top of it all, you suddenly miss home and you miss your parents and you miss juwon and-

“are you okay?”

yeosang’s soft question startles you, having missed his knocking at your door

he walks closer to join you out on the balcony when he sees that the answer is obviously a no, and he prompts you again, “what’s wrong?”

thoughts of vases and strawberry pastries flit across your mind

you start with half truths

“just missing my little brother”

“you love him a lot, don’t you,” yeosang smiles sweetly, “i can see it in the way you take care of yeoreum”

you can’t help the heat that slowly creeps up the back of your neck and to your ears, because it implies that he’s noticed all the times you’ve showered his little sister with the same love you give to juwon

it implies he’s noticed you

“what’s your fondest memory of juwon?” he asks when you nod

something within you thaws slightly at the fact that yeosang remembers your little brother’s name

you step closer to the edge of the balcony so that you can overlook the garden outside your room a little clearer, resting your hand on the railing as yeosang waits patiently

“we used to have this game we played. we had a lot of gardenia flowers growing around our courtyard and juwon loved cutting some to make me a mini bouquet,” you pause to shake your head with a chuckle, “it drove our mother nuts”

“doesn’t sound like it stopped him from continuing though, did it?” yeosang questions with mirth

“no, it didn’t,” your heart aches with fondness. “he would use a certain number of gardenias and make me guess what phrase containing the same number of letters he had in mind” 

it never failed to tug your mouth into a smile whenever juwon giggled at your attempts to guess the flower phrase, even when most times he would bound away whilst singing answers like y-o-u s-t-i-n-k or d-u-m-b d-u-m-b

yeosang supports himself on the railing with one hand as he nearly folds in on himself in laughter, and before you know it, you too are gasping for air and wiping away tears from your eyes

when you both calm down relatively enough, only intermittent chuckles leaving your lips, yeosang clears his throat and scratches his neck awkwardly

“i know it might not be much, but maybe we can go out into town tomorrow and it might take your mind off things? and we can bring yeoreum along if that makes you feel more comfortable, because you’ve probably spent more time alone with her than you have with me?”

you don’t admit it, but you’re already feeling a little better, so you decide to tease, “are you asking me out on a date right now, kang yeosang?”

“oh, well, we’d be doing things a little backwards since we’re already like, married…but, yes? maybe? is that okay?”

it’s yeosang’s turn to flush a deep red as his usually composed demeanor is reduced to stutters, but you don’t notice under the faint glow cast by the moon now reigning the sky

“yeah, that’s okay”

you and yeosang smile fondly as your little trio stroll through a nearby town the following morning, his younger sister skipping ahead to peer at the colourful trinkets being sold at the market stalls, and your own small squad of royal soldiers following behind at a respectful distance

it’s kind of endearing how yeosang points out item after item, asking whether you like it or whether you find it pretty, in a not-so-subtle attempt to learn about your preferences

you have to stop him from buying you something from every second stall you both pass, but you’re unable to convince him from purchasing a small wooden toy as a gift for juwon, insisting that you give it to your little brother the next time you see him

the more you actually interact and talk with yeosang, the harder you find it to associate him with the memory of the yeosang in your rejected letters

because the equation of the letters, the vase and the pastries just does not add up

as you two sit under the awning of a small shop, watching yeoreum play with the shopkeeper’s dog, you find yourself unable to hold back anymore

“why didn’t you reply to my letters?” you break the silence, trying to hide the hurt laced in your voice

yeosang looks at you with wide eyes as his mouth stutters open

and in the smallest voice you have ever heard him speak with, he says

“you wrote me letters?”

your eyebrows knit together as your eyes dart back and forth between his, searching for any hint of deception

“too many to count,” you confess, “until you sent a letter telling me to stop…”

“impossible. i never got your letters” 

your head recoils back as you try to make sense of his words, “but-”

“wait,” he interrupts

yeosang reaches into his robes, pulling out a small, wooden block, extending it out closer to you as he asks, “do you recognise this?”

upon closer inspection, you realise it’s a square seal stamp

it has the character ‘姜’ carved into it and you’ve seen it enough times to know it represents the kang family name - but the inscription that stylises the border is unfamiliar

“not the seal, no”

he swallows apprehensively, “i stamp all my letters with this to certify authenticity”

you let his words sink in as they throw you into a sandstorm of bewilderment

“but then-”

but then who wrote the letter?

and where did all your letters go?

the only people who would have known about them would be the royal couriers and…eunju

a memory flashes through your mind - the moment she handed you a letter with a smile

no, not a smile, you realise

a smirk

you are simultaneously overwhelmed with betrayal, guilt and apologeticness

yeosang doesn’t push you for a response, and you come to recognise that you are also grateful

“i’m sorry for doubting you,” you tell him

it’s nowhere close to the amount of things you want to confess, but it is a start, one that yeosang picks up on and understands immediately

“no, i’m sorry you felt the need to doubt me,” he offers. “that i didn’t make you feel loved enough”

“but i did, actually. the vase and the pastries, then our conversation last night…and even today”

he blushes a deep red as you list the things off with your fingers

“you weren’t meant to find out about the first two,” yeosang admits as he ducks his head shyly

then he suddenly perks up with a sudden thought

he ruffles inside his satchel that had been abandoned to one side, mumbling, “my sister said i did something to upset you…so i um, got you these” 

he turns around to reveal a bouquet of flowers, looking a little rough for wear after being hidden in his bag all morning, but his clumsy consideration only serves to makes your heart skip dangerously

“forgive me?” he asks cheekily, and you both giggle at the absurdity of his question because it should very well be the other way around

“if you insist,” you take the bouquet into your hands

and finally, you allow the chains around your heart to fall away, “i can’t say no to my husband, can i?”

yeosang lets out a little squeak as you look at the bouquet more clearly, counting the number of flowers

you turn to ask if he remembers the game you told him about, but the way yeosang suddenly finds the patch of dirt near his foot absolutely fascinating tells you everything that you need to know

eight flowers

eight letters

i l-o-v-e y-o-u

SCREAMING????? I'M GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET, BYE

25¢ Magic

Genres: fluff, romance, friends-to-lovers, mans-in-love-disease Pairing: Reader & Wonwoo (Seventeen) Words: 2.6k Warnings: other than some food mentions, none! all fluff 💕 Notes: yet another recasted fic sorry!! I reread the original last night and imagined it with wonwoo and liked it too much 😖 (i changed a couple things to be more inclusive since the original is a way older work! if there are any mistakes regarding inclusivity, please let me know!)

Wonwoo needed a little magical intervention. Definitely not for you. For his eyes. Yeah. His eyes.

Magic 25¢

Through his glasses, Wonwoo eyed the sign above the tiny corner shop as he stood there, debating whether or not to enter. You'd recommended the place to him a few weeks ago, even though you'd never bought the so-called "magic" yourself. According to you, the sorceress inside fixed whatever problem she deemed fit, all for the low low price of practically nothing.

At first, Wonwoo had brushed off your suggestion, scoffing at the idea of a mythical being actually solving his life problems, but now, he wasn't so sure. He couldn't be certain what exactly brought him there, to the small store in the middle of the bustling city, though he had his suspicions.

Lately, you'd been occupying his thoughts in weird ways. He had no idea why, but one day -- and he couldn't tell you which one -- he started looking for you whenever he found something funny or saw something beautiful, or thinking he'd seen you in a busy crowd when really you were never there at all; things like that. It confused him more than he would care to admit. You were his friend, yes. Someone he cared about more than most, but recently you got yourself a position in Wonwoo's heart that no friend has ever touched before. It scared him. What were you doing?

So he'd come to the corner shop. desperate for some sort of relief. The tinted windows and seemingly decrepit interior almost made him change his mind, but the brain-racking problem that was you made him enter.

A pervasive scent wafted up to Wonwoo's nose when he opened the door, smelling like rosewater and oranges. The shop was brightly lit, with various plants and flowers either placed on every available surface or hanging from the ceiling. Gold accents came in the form of geometric wires in various shapes accompanying the flower pots or hanging above the windows. From what Wonwoo could see, the only spot not covered with greenery was a marble counter near the back, which housed a silver service bell.

Before he could ring the bell, a girl popped up from behind the counter, startling him enough to jump back at her sudden appearance. She wore a plain white t-shirt and light wash jeans, matching the shop's simple feel, but her bright pink hair covered her face, and she spent a few seconds just getting it out of the way.

"Hi!" she greeted cheerfully, blowing the last few strands of stray hair away from her face. "Do you have a quarter?"

"Are you... the sorceress?"

She chuckled, a light sort of laugh that you do in front of people you aren't close to. "Sure am! I'm not what you expected, huh?"

Wonwoo didn't want to admit that he expected a haggish old woman wearing torn black rags and looking half past death, so he kept his mouth shut. Instead, he took a quarter from his back pocket and slid it across the counter.

"I'm guessing you know the drill; you give the quarter and I fix whatever I think you need most." She took the quarter and placed it somewhere under the marble counter, then pointed at a little table in the opposite corner of the shop, right next to the windows. "Have a seat. I'll be right back with some tea."

When she returned with two steaming teas in fine china cups, she sat in front of Wonwoo and looked into his eyes. He pursed his lips, not knowing exactly what to say, but also not wanting to turn away.

"I've decided. I'm going to fix your eyesight."

Wonwoo's fingers unconsciously fixed his glasses, though they weren't skewed in the first place. "My... eyesight?"

"Yup!" Her smile was soft, nothing like what Wonwoo expected before he came in. "Right now, it's what you need more than anything else."

Well, who was he to argue with a sorceress? It wasn't like he was going to straight-up ask her to fix his you problem. He was too shy to just give himself away like that to a total stranger. Maybe this really was what he needed. Though, he actually started to like his glasses after you said they made him look like, quote, "boyfriend material".

"So, if you would just take off your glasses--" the girl said, taking a sip of her tea. "--then I can get started."

Hesitantly, Wonwoo pulled his glasses from his face, placing them down on the wooden tabletop. From a little metal box that Wonwoo hadn't noticed before, she procured a small glass bottle, filled halfway with a lilac-coloured dust that sparkled in the sunlight. It was only then that Wonwoo questioned the windows . They looked tinted from the outside, and... the shop looked empty through them, but now they were clear and letting in plenty of sunlight, and the shop was clearly anything but empty. Was this really magic?

His eyesight wasn't that bad, he thought, especially since he could tell what she was doing when she pulled out the cork and poured some of the dust into her palm. She struggled for a second to plug the cork back one-handed and stick it back in the box.

"Keep your eyes open, please."

Without a second warning, she blew onto her palm, raising the dust off her hand and straight into Wonwoo's eyes. He flinched, falling back in his chair as he coughed. Through squinted eyes, he watched her gulp down the rest of her tea and pack up, then stand from her chair and walk away towards the counter.

"That's all. It should take effect by tomorrow morning."

With another smile, she disappeared into some sort of back room, leaving Wonwoo to wonder why the hell he ever followed your advice in the first place.

•

Wonwoo couldn't deny that he was a little excited to not need his glasses anymore. Sure, he didn't mind wearing them at all, but updating prescriptions costs a lot of money, and keeping them clean was a whole other ordeal. So, when he got up to make breakfast, he left his room with upturned lips, his glasses still on his bedside table.

It was only partway into breakfast -- when he tried to look at the clock on his oven and couldn't tell time -- that he realized his eyesight wasn't fixed at all. Same blurry vision, same nearsightedness. What happened? Had he been ripped off? But who on earth would scam someone for 25 cents?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his buzzer. He walked over to the door, pressing the camera button to see a pixelated version of you standing right in front of it, a big bag in your hands as you waved towards the camera.

He buzzed you in, not thinking much of it. You had a habit of showing up out of the blue.

"Wonwoo!" you greeted happily when he opened the door. "Are you ready?"

In the time you took to get up the stairs to his apartment, he'd found his glasses and put them on, as well as cleaned up breakfast. But ready? He wasn't ready.

As soon as he'd opened the door, you shined like you never had before, like a sunset glimmering off the ocean horizon. It very nearly blinded him. Your smile seemed so bright, and when you frowned at his lack of response (aside from wide eyes and a slack jaw) he had this surging feeling that he absolutely needed you to smile again.

Though, your pout put him in just as much awe in a different, alluring way.

"Don't tell me you forgot," you whined, bottom lip jutted out. "You promised we'd go to the carnival today."

He couldn't stop staring. Your eyes, your cheeks, your lips. All of you drew him in, and he couldn't say why.

"Wonwoo!"

Snapping out of his reverie, he blinked a few times to clear his vision, but nothing changed. You still looked...

Enchanting.

He stammered, trying to get back to himself. The regular Wonwoo, not the one stumbling over the sight of you. "What... huh?"

You rolled your eyes, a move from you that Wonwoo always liked, and today was no exception. Except, this time, he almost lost himself again just with that one action.

"The carnival? C'mon, you promised, so get dressed. We're leaving in ten minutes." Grunting, you used all of your might to push Wonwoo through his small apartment into his room and closed the door between you.

Once you were out of sight, Wonwoo stumbled backwards into his room and practically fell onto his bed, head in his hands. What the hell was happening to him? You looked exactly the same as you always did. Your face was the same, your style of clothes, the way your eyes moved with each expression. So what changed?

Whatever. Wonwoo assured himself that all these weird feelings would fade soon enough. He was probably just tired.

"So," you started once he stepped out of his room. "I've made a one-hundred percent foolproof plan so we can go on every single ride and hit every stall I want. Plus, I've written down our choices of what to buy so we stay within budget."

You were already halfway out the door before he could respond, giant carnival map held in both hands.

•

Wonwoo had a hard time concentrating on the carnival with you right next to him. He'd started noticing little things he'd never picked up on before, like the way your smile grew half a centimetre wider after you scored a single point at a stall game, or the way your eyes screwed shut when you screamed on a rollercoaster. Normally, Wonwoo could barely handle keeping his own eyes open on rollercoasters, but this time he just couldn't keep them off you.

It was by the time you bought food that you noticed something was up.

"Are you okay? You've been quiet all morning," you asked him as you sat down with your lunch. (Not the healthiest thing in the world, but hey, that's what carnivals are for.)

The concern on your face reminded him of something. He didn't know what it was, exactly, but he knew he both liked it in a weird way and wanted you to never feel concern ever again. "I'm fine." He sat up straight. "Just... thinking about something."

"Oh? Like what?" You chewed on your food, leaning forward on your elbows and propping your chin in your palm. Why did he find every single thing you did endearing?

"It's nothing," he assured you, though he was mostly trying to convince himself that. He needed to switch up the subject -- far far away from his feelings -- otherwise he might just burst. "I heard you beat Seungcheol at Mario Kart yesterday."

Your face lifted as you sported a triumphant smile, launching into the riveting story of how you finally won a grand prix against Seungcheol for the first time. Wonwoo concentrated on your storytelling for only a few seconds before he got lost in your eyes and how they sparkled like a thousand, no, a million stars.

"And the, when he asked for a rematch, I stood up and went, 'I'm king now! Your words hold no power here!' so he chased me around his entire apartment, that brat!" You waved your hands around to illustrate your story. "It's okay though, 'cause guess what? I won a second time for our rematch! Gosh, it was so satisfying."

"Really? That's cool." Wonwoo tried to react instead of just staring at the way your skin looked today.

"Uh huh... and then he kicked me out of his house."

"Oh, nice." Your furrowed brows were so adorable.

"Yeah, and then David Bowie rose from his grave just to serenade me as I walked home."

"That's fun." You've got something on your lip; Wonwoo wouldn't mind helping--

You clapped your hands in front of his face. "Wonwoo!"

Jolting up, Wonwoo blinked a few times, but the beguiling you didn't disappear. "What-- what?!"

"You're spacing out on me! Are you okay? Do you have a cold or something? Why didn't you tell me?!" You reached out your hand to his forehead, brushing underneath his hair to feel his temperature. "Oh my god, you're burning up!"

Yes, he was feeling hot, but definitely not because of some fever.

"I'm taking you home. I can't believe you didn't tell me you were sick!" You grabbed his wrist and pulled him up, about to walk away and abandon your lunches.

Oh god. Oh no. If you took him home and started fawning over his "sickness", while looking this ethereal, Wonwoo would probably spontaneously combust.

"No, uh, no!" He wrenched himself from your grip. "I'm fine, really!"

Scrunching up your face, you mocked him, "'No, uh, no!' I think you mean: yes, uh, yes, because we're leaving. C'mon."

"No, we can do more. What about your foolproof plan? What about the rides? Let's keep going."

You crossed your arms and huffed. "I'm worried about you."

Were you trying to make him explode?

"I'm fine. Better than ever. I can do more."

"Are you sure?"

"One-hundred percent."

You sighed, uncrossing your arms. "Fine," you gave in. "We'll do one more ride. Just one."

"Great! What's next on your plan?"

Grabbing your paper map, you tried to read your own writing. You squinted at your plan. "Uh... next up is the Tunnel of Love."

Wonwoo choked on his own spit. "The what?!"

"The Tunnel of Love. I've heard it's really famous here."

"Why would we go in a Tunnel of Love?"

You crossed your arms again. "Because my friend told me it's really pretty on the inside. We could just go home, if that's what you want."

"No, no," Wonwoo said. "I'll go on it."

Your friend was right, it was really pretty on the inside. At least, you thought so. Wonwoo was too busy staring at you under the pink and red lights, oh and the reflection of the chandeliers and fairy lights in your eyes. Your smile was just as stunning as whatever the ride had to offer, in fact, he would argue that you were ten-- no a hundred times more stunning.

He liked the way you smiled and pointed at the things you thought were pretty. He liked the way you looked at him every time, just so you could see if he was enjoying himself, too. He liked the way your smile got wider when you saw his. He liked you.

He liked you.

"See, I knew you'd like it," you said cheekily. Your face looked so cheerful under the coloured lights. "Are you feeling any better?"

Wonwoo nodded. "I think I'm feeling..."

He always imagined falling in love to be something unexpected, like spilling coffee on someone in a cafe, or getting wrapped up in a dog leash with an attractive stranger, or meeting someone outside of a club who hated them as much as he did, but this was much better. Sure, seeing you in an entirely different way, in a whole new light than ever before was sudden. It was like falling into a pit trap with how quickly it happened, but unexpected? No. Wonwoo should've seen this coming.

I've decided. I'm going to fix your eyesight.

For the low, low price of practically nothing.

Without any warning, he leaned in and landed a sweet peck on your lips. "...much better."

•

"Oh, did you ever visit this place?" You gestured towards the Magic 25¢ sign. "I would, but I don't think I have any problems worth fixing right now." Peering through the dark windows, you furrowed your brows at the seemingly empty shop. "It looks closed..."

Wonwoo pulled his hand up, yours in tow with your fingers interlocked in his. He placed a quick kiss on the back of your hand, smiling. "Maybe, but I bet she works wonders."

20:24 // ❥ new alert! // mark, the sweetest boy alive

“look, i told you,” jeno says, shoving his phone in your face as he points aggressively at the picture he had taken a few hours ago. “there are eighteen of them, look!” he repeats, finger shifting about the screen in an attempt to point out all eighteen statues he was referring to.

“you missed four out,” you sigh, putting your chopsticks down. “i think i got a picture,” you mumble, entering your gallery, scrolling through the photos in search of the one that would prove jeno wrong. he inhales another spoonful of rice, commenting, “you can’t find it, right? because it doesn’t exist?”

you roll your eyes, trying your best to recall when it was that you had taken the photo. you jump in excitement when it hits you - you had taken it on your boyfriend’s phone.

“babe?” you call out, reaching out for mark’s phone and unlocking it swiftly. “is it okay if i scroll through your gallery? i need to find the photo of the statues we took last fall,” you continue, peeping over at mark who was still busy doing the dishes.

“sure,” he replies, giving you the green light. you enter his gallery, scrolling in a hurry, deadset on proving jeno wrong.

jeno waits for a few moments, but instead of a retort, he notices your halted thumb, and your quirked brow. he doesn’t want to intrude mark’s privacy, so instead of just looking over at whatever that is on the screen that has caught your attention, he asks, “what’s wrong?”

in your hurry, you had accidentally scrolled way past last fall. instead, you have entered (probably) summer of two years ago. you manage to tear your eyes away from the screen, shifting your gaze to return jeno’s, with, “what are these?”

you turn the screen to face jeno. he takes a glance, before stuffing down another spoonful of rice, with a nonchalant, “mark’s aglio olio.”

you already knew that. mark’s aglio olio. mark’s signature aglio olio that you have engraved in the deep depths of your heart. it was the first dish he made for you, seven months into your relationship after the one time you had casually remarked that it’s sweet to be surprised with a homecooked meal. you’d never even imagined mark would surprise you with one, given the known fact that he isn’t the most talented in the kitchen.

but he proved you wrong.

the real question is, why are there more than twenty pictures of the same aglio olio that you had only had once?

“why are there so many pictures of it? with so many different plating styles?” you question, clicking into the first photo, then swiping left to look through the rest of them. looking through the pictures this way makes it look like they’re a bunch of progression photos. as though every new picture, was an improved dish or plating style from the last.

“oh,” renjun exclaims, taking a sip of water. “we ate that for a whole month,” he states, faking a shiver. “yeah, we swore off italian for the longest time after that,” jeno adds on, making a disgusted face.

you can’t help the smile that brightens your features when the realisation dawns upon you.

mark had been practising to make sure it was the perfect aglio olio.

you get up, making your way to the kitchen. as you approach the familiar back view of your boyfriend, your smile only tugs wider. you snake your arms around his waist, pulling him close as you rest your cheek against his shoulder blade.

you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks gently with, “why? bored of the guys?”

you take in his scent, shaking your head. “no, i just wanted to tell you i love you,” you gush, pressing your lips against his shoulder.

he turns off the tap, wipes his hands down with a dry towel, then turns around and rests his arms around your waist. “suddenly?” he says, raising a brow.

“i love you,” you repeat, your heart oozing with nothing but love and affection for the boy in front of you.

“i love you too,” he reciprocates, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

PUSSYCAT-PRIMADONNA gojo satoru

SUMMARY: gojo visits his local strip club out of boredom. yet it’s his surprise to see the top paying girl is no one other than his pretty best friend, you.

WORD COUNT: 6k omg

CONTENT: f! stripper reader, modern! au, lap dance, dry humping, overstim, brat reader, dumbification, degradation, praise, f! receiving, size kink, impact play, unprotected, manhandling, semi-public, pussywhipped gojo, prone bone, cowgirl, pet names: (baby, princess, angel)

NOTE: old request. this entire fic was inspired from buttons by the pussycat dolls, sadly gojo doesn’t die this time :/ ty @omgeto for beta reading some <3

It was your final shift of the day— one more session and your day would be over, the music throughout the club blared, booming throughout the speakers of the entire place. Some fast paced song played in the background as you glanced at yourself in the mirror— using the very pad of your thumb to rub some of the sheeny polished gloss that resided on your lips.

Dragging your feet across the sleek, smooth porcelain like floor— you started to make your way towards the private room where your customer was waiting. The very back of your heels clanked against the ground over and over, and you enter the room to see the man already waiting.

“Hi. If you can specify how many minutes you’d like—”

And you pause once you look up to see your best friend of years, Gojo Satoru— sat manspread, in nothing but jeans and a tight fitted shirt, staring right at you— he’s just as surprised as you, and he can’t help but let his eyes wander and roam your body, your exotic attire of lingerie, he’s never seen you dress like that.

“Satoru?” You furrowed your eyebrows in utter confusion, he hated strip clubs.

“Hey . . .” Is all he says before he spreads his legs just a bit, and his eye contact remains on you, and that’s when your eyes trail down towards Gojo‘s lap to see it. His hard boner that didn’t fail to make itself visible underneath his jeans.

“What are you doing here?” You spoke after a long awkward silence— eyeing him a near perplexed look, eyebrows slightly parted the more your eyes remained on his.

Gojo leans back, and for some strange reason— it was as if his eyes were stuck on your body, the lingerie you wore, hugged your body in all the right places, you almost forgot, you were quite literally nearly if not practically half-naked in front of your best friend. He leans back against the velvet red cushioned sofa before speaking in a soft yet somewhat of a coy playful tone.

“We’ve been friends for how long, and you never told me you were a stripper.”

“You never asked.” You replied, walking towards him— and he slightly raised his head up to face you exactly, and a smile pressed against his pink glossed lips.

Gojo swiftly shrugs. “Yeah, as if I’m supposed to guess you dance for a living,” and then he rubs a hand back against his neck, his eyes still roamed and his gaze— it was so dirty, the way his stare remained for so many seconds at a time, it was as if time stood still for a moment, his eyes went up and up and up, glancing at your curves, your hips, your entire pretty physique.

“. . . Sooo,” he hums, slowing his words purposely before a near chuckle leaves his lips. “You gonna gimme a lap dance or what?”

You peered at him, your eyes rolled back as you made your way right in front of Gojo— taking a seat right on his lap.

Gojo‘s completely fixated on you the entire time, he’s annoying, haughty half-grin remaining on him as he swiped a tongue against his lips, his eyes gazed right into you as you straddled him abruptly.

“I can’t believe I have to give you out of all people a lap dance.” You grumbled, throwing your arms around his shoulders, a soft sigh leaving your nose as the music started to play in the background— it was slow, a perfect setting and rang across the entire dim-lit room.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Gojo clicks his tongue with a soft laugh, and that’s when he brings his rough big hands towards the sides of your hips before you smack them away and he winces.

You raise your eyebrows as you start to grind against him slowly. “No touching policy, Satoru.”

“You’re so boring. I touched you before.” Gojo replies with a snarky tone.

“Hugging doesn’t count.” You mumble, matching the sheer sarcasm in his voice. Gojo doesn’t reply, and instead he moves his eyes towards your hips, watching you start to move— back and forth against him and a soft grunt leaves his lips, he’s so hard that you could feel it. Feel him poking out from underneath your lacey protected panties.

Gojo leans back, and he grows silent as you give him the lap dance, he studied you the entire time, your movements, it was insanely insatiable in a way, your hips were just nasty— rubbing against his clothed jeans, Gojo‘s stopped talking which is a surprise— he’s keeping his entire focus on you, you’re all into the mood, the music guiding the way you went against him it seemed, somewhat motivating you.

“. . Fuck,” he groans, watching you move yourself back and forth against his thigh— teasingly getting right up close and personal to his face, the sweet saccarhine coated scent of your fragrance drives him dizzy, your smell was purely enticing, soft breath fanning against his neck— and Gojo couldn’t handle how much of a tantalizing little thing you were.

You had your hands propped onto his broad shoulders, swaying against him— and Gojo’s quietly breathing through his nose, your hips were just impossible, you drove him crazy. It was a coincidence, sure, but if Gojo knew you’d be a stripper working here, he’d surely be asking for you everyday.

“You’re being a tease,” he scoffs, growing slightly irritated once he sees you stand up from his lap suddenly, grazing your hands down slowly all over your body, doing an entire perfect figure eight stance with your body— sensually moving to the repetitive constant beats of the music.

“No I’m not,” You hum, maintaining a good sensuous rhythm. Each beat from the sound, your hips matched perfectly— you were completely in sync throughout the entire time it played, sashaying towards him again before smiling. “You wanna touch me, Satoru . . ?”

Gojo nearly starts to pant— and he’s growing more and more impatient. You get on his lap again— this time your back’s facing him and you’re just casually moving yourself up and down against him, nice and slow, he can’t take it— you’re so cruel, he’s just getting harder and harder by the moment.

“You know I wanna touch you,” He repeated, his voice was low, and he sounded frustrated— it was somewhat adorable. Gojo’s eyebrows were furrowed together, and his face grew a bit flustered throughout you grinding yourself against him over and over again. “Brat.”

You smile to yourself, bringing Gojo’s hands up to your hips— and he stares down, watching you guide his rough hands to squeeze against your waist, feeling against the sheer thin straps of your lingerie set. The room was dim— the purple fluorescent lights shined just barely, it was a bit dark in the private room— Gojo could only just about make out your pretty face and that cute smug grin compressing against your glossed lips.

Moments later— the ten minutes were up, and much to Gojo’s disappointment, just as you were about to get off his lap, he held your hips in place before huffing out a needy, “. . Waittt.”

“Ten minutes are ov—.” and that’s when you pause right mid speech, feeling the very hard tent underneath his pants poke right beneath your panties.

You’re still sitting on Gojo’s lap and then he grunts. “. . . Can’t . . . leave me with this damn boner, princess. You got me all hot and bothered after dancing all over me like that.”

“You’re dramatic,” You rolled your eyes, still straddling his lap before staring directly at him, and Gojo returned the look, his hair was slightly messy, ruffled and he looked heavily attractive, even while primarily dressed down. “What do you want then, a kiss?”

“More than that,” Gojo murmurs in a near low voice, and you gasp— feeling his fingers brush against the thin straps of your attire, it pops against your skin lightly before he brings you towards him, and his lips are just against yours. “I want you.”

You hum, inches apart from kissing him before smiling. “Kiss me then, Satoru.”

Gojo couldn’t wait as soon as you said that, he pulled you into a deep and needy kiss— you remained idly sat propped up on his lap, teasingly starting to grind yourself against him as your lips pressed against his. He grunts in your mouth from that, and you nearly moaned, feeling his rough hands roam quite everywhere around your body— feeling and tugging on your straps, desperate to just rip it off your body already. Gojo tasted sweet, you could taste some tangy light liquor on his tongue yet you couldn’t really make out the flavor— it was rich, savory and definitely candied.

You brought your hands onto both sides of his face, stroking his cheek as you kept straddling him— swaying your hips back and forth against his brick hard boner that tuck underneath his jeans and he was about to lose it— you heard his breath get caught in his throat before he squeezes your ass with one hand. You whine, and that’s when Gojo lifts you up.

“S- Satoru,” you moaned, and you sat back against the fat cushioned sofa— he’s staring at you and he was panting, his pink sheeny lips now practically covered and coated with your sweetened lip gloss. He licks his lips swiftly and slowly, and that simple tiny gesture had no reason being that attractive.

“What time do you close?” He huffs out, standing over you— blue eyes focused on your sprawled out body the entire time.

You catch your breath slightly, sliding your inched stilettos off before replying in a soft-spoken voice, rubbing your lips together. “Um . . in about half an hour, why . . ?”

Yet— his answer to your question was with simply his tongue. Face shoved right between your pretty plush legs.

Gojo starts off slow as you’re laid down on your back, softly planting a plethora of kisses, wet kisses near the very inner part of your thighs, he’s making his way up— and he teasingly bites down on the cute g-strip you wore, his teeth tugging on it before pulling back and it lightly smacks against your skin and you whimper, staring down at him.

That’s when he starts to softly drag his tongue up and up until it reaches towards the middle part of your panties, Gojo stares at it before giving the soft fabric part a kiss— and he feels you throb and it brings a pompous grin on his lips, only to swipe his tongue against your panties to taste your already slightly drenched clit that hid underneath the clothed undergarment.

“. . . F-Fuckkk,” you gasped, your nerves practically getting the best of you. It was even worse once you felt Gojo blow against your pussy, easily moving your panties to the side before dragging a thumb down your dampened folds, hearing how pre-soaked you already were, and he hums to himself. The sensation tickled, yet it made you pulsate— yearning for more throughout each second that went by.

You swallowed— staring up at the drywall, feeling your best friend’s tongue just graze and drag against your sheer sweet skin. You bite down on your lip once he finally brings his tongue towards your folds, making a tantalizing slow stripe lick and you get shivers.

“Do you—” You nervously giggle, panting as you look down at him, and he looks up at you once you speak, pausing his motions. “Do you even know how to eat pussy, S-Satoru..?”

He glares at you, and it’s cute— yet it’s not cute anymore once he brings a spank towards your cunt and you whimper, despite that, that simple gesture turning you on a lot more than it should have.

“Shut up and spread your legs.” He mutters.

“. . . ”

You remained quiet and he lays his tongue flat down against your cunt, dragging it slowly up against you, and you shake a bit, shivering as if the room suddenly got cold— Gojo couldn’t wait, he broke away for a brief moment before gathering a good amount of spit, and you feel him spit right on your pussy— rubbing a thumb to smear and coat the glistening wad of his own saliva against your folds before digging straight in.

Gojo was so sloppy with his tongue, absolutely filthy. He’s trailing his tongue slowly and sensually against your nub— circles, shapes, letters, an entire multitude of things.

The kisses he made turned into straight sucking at one point and it wasn’t long before your head slumped back against the velvet cushioned sofa, your legs were practically shaking by now— quavering and trembling within his firm hands gripping down on your thighs.

“Sa—toru,” you’d pant out in short staggering breaths, he’s focusing towards your clit— his eyes were closed, pretty lashes fluttering every so often as he was deep between your thighs, continuing to stimulate you. The music playing in the background was loud and insanely raucous, some slow jam playing, it rang throughout the dim dark private room. You let off a loud abrupt whimper, feeling Gojo’s tongue brush against the very opening of your clitoral hood and he hums, bringing a sweet nibble to it and you grip hard onto his hair.

“Mhm,” he hums— making sure to create pressure all against your pussy with his tongue, he’s slow but incredibly sloppy, it doesn’t take long at all before your slick is happily coating Gojo’s chin. The noises he made— all from his mouth, it was so lewd, his pink lips were dampened with his own spit along with your own sweet taste covering his mouth, he couldn’t get enough.

Gojo was definitely pussydrunk by now— your taste . . just so glacé, his tongue ran and dragged against your folds, you couldn’t stop squirming— coming to the realization your best friend of years was face first shoved between your legs, eating you out the starved man that he was.

He was just sloppy too, he raises his head just a bit to lick his lips— pursing his pink dampened lips together before watching his own saliva trick down towards your cunt, you whimper once you felt him drag two fingers down your folds, maneuvering miniature rotating circles against you— and you bite down on your lips, head going back and you were coming close, if anything you thought Gojo would be a virgin— he ate your pussy as if it was the only edible thing in existence.

Gojo has your legs raised up, and you‘re just laid flat on your back, he’s so greedy, his tongue just laps and laps against your folds, hungrily sucking against your nub to elicit that sweet cry from your throat, and it’s almost as if he knows you’re getting close— because that’s when he starts to grow a bit more rapid.

“F-Fuck, S—Satoru— gonna make me cum—” You babble, your voice was falling on deaf ears, your thighs shook and shook, joggling pathetically within his mean grip against your legs, you stare down at him and Gojo’s returning a glance—

. . a smug grin on his face, pretty lashes half-lidded as you watched him move his face from left-to-right at such a pace, his tongue roamed everywhere— it met every crevice, not missing any spot inside of your pussy. Gojo ate you out as if he was waiting his entire life for this moment.

“Oh my g—goddd— fuckkkk,” you whimpered, hitting the back of your head lightly against the fat velutinous sofa over and over again on repeat. Your legs felt like they were about to give up, Gojo’s tongue was insanely filled with pure lewdity and lunacy. He can’t help but spit down your slit each time, getting hard from the way it runs down your folds only to spank your pussy a few times to watch you whimper— chewing down on your lip as if it was candy. “I’m gonna cum— fuck..”

He doesn’t falter, his tongue still being occupied, you’re a complete mess— he’s digging in fingertips into your no brand named fishnets, your wetness completely coating the very bottom of his chiseled chin. Gojo grunts and that’s when you came— letting off the most whiniest shrill of an orgasm known. It has you panting— and he’s still eating you out after the fact, he was impossible.

“S-Satoru— okayyy . . okay—” you whined, your lip quivering, falling into such a sensitive state, your legs were just straight jello, benumbed as you felt the overstim wash over you, dragging you into such a crescendo.

You literally have to pry Gojo’s face out from between your legs— he’d probably eat you out for hours, he was so starved. As you hold his face up, Gojo slowly looks up at you with a coy smile, sliding his tongue swiftly against his lips to lick the sweetness of your own slick on his mouth. His eyelids were low— he was so drunk from tasting you and he only wanted more by the second.

“You moan really loud y‘know,” he snickers, leaning up close to you— and he pressed his body between your legs, bringing rough hands towards your thighs to make it wrap around his waist before he grins— watching you just lay dumbly all sprawled out against the sofa, still trying to catch your breath in short, quavering, breathy pants. “And you say you’re not allowed to fuck on the job.”

“. . . Shut up,” You swallowed, your body still rattled from your strong intense release— and that’s when Gojo leans close to you, and he’s got such intense eye contact, he brings a thumb up to the side of your lips— feeling the glossiness of your lip gloss against it, smearing it down with a swift motion before he brings you into a sultry kiss.

You moaned in his mouth, your head raising upwards a bit as his body started to grind against you, suddenly you felt hot, sizzling even from him being pressed against you— Gojo’s lips remained against yours, and he’s handsy a bit, you feel his hands trail down towards the straps of your lingerie, feeling the crumbled up dollar bills stick out from between them— and you feel a smile press against his lips, you could taste yourself on his tongue. It was so sloppy. Gojo was sloppy and he wasn’t ashamed.

You whine once he pulls away to drag you towards him, and he lays flat down on the sofa— and he pants for a moment before giving you a smug complacent grin, manspreading and he taps his lap with his palm, signaling your to come towards him. “Wanna ride me? I know you do, angel.”

“. . . ”

You don’t reply and he just chuckles, watching you get on his lap— unbuckling his dark black jeans, pulling it down with ease, and your eyes go straight towards his bulge, his boxers he wore was a bright cerulean blue color, and he was a packer for sure, there wasn’t a doubt about it. It was enough to make you lick your lips, just imagining how big your best friend was. It made your head just cloud up with such fog and want— need even.

“Stop talking, Satoru,” You grumbled— and he smiles, watching you pull down his briefs, springing out his length, and he was huge. Your eyes broadened for a bit as you stared at it. Gojo had a girth to him, he was well trimmed chiefly, a pretty pinkish-red tip at the top, and he was already leaning— he had a slight curve to him, and he was so tall and lanky — his dick just pressed against his tummy. You always suspected he’d be big, but nothing like this.

“I’ll stop talking when you put your hips to use, stripper,” he coyly grins— and you shoot him a glare, watching a breathy laugh leave his condensing lips. “I’m teasing. Although, I still can’t believe you hid this from me. You could have given me a lap dance this entire time without me paying, hmpf.”

You huffed out a vexed sigh— and he chortles, watching you with curious peculiar eyes, and he stares at the way your hand wraps around his length— you’re hovering over him, your g-string of your pretty lingerie set just moved aside by Gojo, and that’s when you start to sink down slowly.

The music throughout the private room bounced against the walls— each three minutes a new song would play on shuffle, the room was dim— you could barely make out Gojo’s face, just that annoying smug grin and those blue eyes that never left your pretty face.

“F-Fuck,” you sibilated through your teeth, lowering yourself down on his cock. He stretched you out so good it hasn’t even been a few seconds— Gojo grunts, watching your hips stutter a bit, the crown of his cock throbbing into you, and your eyebrows furrow just a bit— a tiny moan leaves past your lips, and his girth only added more pleasure towards your sweet needy entrance. “Why are you so— . . f-fucking big, Satoru.”

“Don’t ask dumb questions, princess,” he hums, bringing a hand towards your ass— taking one of the remaining twenty dollar bills that was stuffed between your straps, rubbing it against your skin. His voice was a low raspy— yet a mixture of playfulness at the same time.

You intake a sudden sharp breath— and he’s halfway in yet it feels like he’s balls deep, your mind is just racing, Gojo’s length was just simply enticing, salacious— incredibly dirty. You moaned, as he held onto your hips with a firm grip, giving you a flashy half-assed smile, before a hand reached down towards your ass to spank it. “Move, baby.”

Not even at a pace yet and you felt like you were gonna cream down his shaft— it was embarrassing, he was all the way in now and you started to move, attempting a somewhat decent rhythm with your waist— rolling and sloppily lurching your hips against him—

and he finds it cute, he’s studying your facial expressions as if he was studying some sort of college course— you’re just trying to maneuver your hips, adjusting to his size but god was he just extending out inside of your cunt as if it was just nothing.

“Uh— fuckkk,” he grunts lowly, a slight groan leaving his throat, you start to sway your hips, biting down on your lip— your bottom lip that was glossed and covered with your lip gloss, your hips started up a pace, leaning back, and as you stared at Gojo, you could see his ripped jacked abs pierce through his shirt— it was just purely mouthwatering. Gojo’s entire body was flavorsome. “Ride me just like that, good— good girl.”

You lean forward just a bit— and his hands roam and roam, up and down your waist, you whined, his touch was so sweet yet a sting of roughness— feeling you up throughout each second he got, tracing down your curves with his fingertips— he lets off a low sigh, feeling the head of his dick kiss against your sensitive pulsating nub that was stuffed between your folds.

You’re in the right perfect angle and you can’t stop moaning, your sweet babbles was so cute to him, to think you were being a bit of a brat earlier and now you’re starting to turn into a complete mess all because of his hefty size— churning up your insides, and then Gojo grunts. “Touch yourself while you ride me, pretty girl.”

“O—Okay…” You stammered, continuing to rock your hips against him, and you bring your hands towards the near straps of your set that was just barely about to fall off your skin, you were practically without any clothes on— and he brings a hand towards your chin before speaking in a sly tone.

“You’ve always been so bad with keeping eye contact, but I want you to keep those pretty eyes on me, Y/N.” He mutters, stroking your chin with his thumb.

Your move your eyes towards Gojo and he has a smirk pressing against you pink sheeny lips, growing flustered with the way your hips rutted against him time after time—

He was stuffing you full of his thick inches, you feel like you’re floating, in a more lewd filthy way. He watches you with superlicious haughty eyes, watching you continue to feel all over yourself— your hands sliding down your body, rocking your hips back against him and you bite down on your lip again— his dick just stretching your pussy out, he groans, feeling you just clamp and clamp down on him.

“No touching policy but you’re fucking your customer,” Gojo sneers— his rough hands slide up and down your body, attempting to guide your hip movements, thwacking the thin striped straps repeatedly against your skin as you tried to compress your sweet moans. Your earrings that hung that your lobes just dangled and dangled, as you gave him a glare. “I’m starting to think you like me more than just a friend.

“…Shut up Satoru,” you moaned, feeling the very crown of his cock continuously prod against your sweetened savory spots— your eyes just flicker and roll, you’re growing dumber and dumber by the second— it was like Gojo’s dick had you addicted, the walls were quite thin and you tried to be quiet but with his size rearranging your insides— you weren’t sure if that was possible. “F-Fuck I’m gonna c—cummm.”

Gojo grunts, feeling your hips swivel and buck, all against his lap— the stretch had you completely starstruck. Each second he’d get he’d smack your ass again and again, squeezing it, caressing it—

it made him hard, each spank you whined from the slim sting, you’re wanting more— and you place your hands on Gojo’s shoulders, and he stares at you with a weary smile pressing against his glistening lips. “Already angel? You sure do cum pretty quickly, hehe.”

He was so annoying— you wanted to smack him, but you couldn’t really do that with being stuffed full of his dick— he had the smuggest grin on his face, watching the way your pleasurable expression forms into a slight scowl— your hips move and rotate before you end up cumming anyway. Your hips twitch, and your lips slightly part as the ache between your legs took action.

You felt warm as you creamed all down his shaft— your nerves were just going crazy, you’re spasming and babbling, abruptly leaning into Gojo’s neck, whimpering sweet mumbles of “O—Oh my fucking g—goddd.”’s.

“. . . So sensitive,” he purrs, holding you close to him, sliding a hand down your back— peeling off your lingerie, and you hear a soft laugh leave his lips as you’re still trembling, your orgasm hit you like a truck— it was that good that you had to take a second to breathe and recollect your thoughts. “There there. I’d be like this if I rode myself too, heheh.”

“…..”

You really wanted to smack him, you really did.

“Hm, how about you lay down on your chest, princess. I wanna admire you from the back.” Gojo says, a cheeky grin going against his mouth, slight dimples poking near the sides of his pink lips.

You did, pressing your cheek against the fat velvet matched pillow— the satin of the fabric collides against your skin and you intake a breath the moment you feel Gojo squeeze your ass, a tiny grunt slides past his lips once he rubs his tip against your folds, he grows quiet for a moment— watching your slick coat the head of his length and he groans.

“Oh damn, my best friend’s got such a sloppy pussy,” and you moaned, he was teasing you— each second he spent talking, he could have been fucking you—

but no, Gojo Satoru loved to fuck with you, he always have, straight blabber mouth.

He just wouldn’t stop talking.

“Fuck me already.” You stammered— a whiney voice coming out of your throat, his cologne was so loud it made you nearly dizzy— you were in such a dumb position, flat on your chest with Gojo behind you, staring at the way you cutely and patiently waited for him to just go inside again— but here he was, wasting time.

“Are strippers usually this hostile towards their customers?” He gasps, entirely dramatic— before he chuckles straight afterwards, and he’s just playing with your entrance, his very tip just prods against your slit and you kiss your teeth, mashing your lips together and an annoyed sigh leaves your mouth. “Ask me nice, pretty girl. Then I’ll give ya what you want,” and then he pauses before humming. “Ooh. Better yet, tell me pretty please. Yeah.”

“. . . Fucking—” You grumbled, and he brings a hand up towards your arms, pinning them behind your back to wait for your response— just a single thrust and you’d be fucked. He was so close, just a single inch and he’d be all inside you all over again. “Pretty— pretty please, Satoru.”

He lowers his voice a bit. “Pretty please, what?”

“… Pretty please … fuck me. I want you.”

“Oh, I want you too. I always have,” he smiles, and his voice just drops and drops with each moment he speaks, you could hear the slight bass in his tone, it was unintentionally sexy— just that alone made your pathetic cunt throb. “Good girl. I’ll take care of you, just arch your back a little for me and try not to be so loud. Wouldn’t want your co-workers to hear their top paid stripper being so slutty in this private room, now would they?”

You whimpered— feeling him finally start to go inside of you, inch after inch it makes your mouth water before you reply with a, “I don’t care if they hear me, S-Satoru.”

“Huhhh. Dumb girl, you’re not supposed to say that.” He rolls his eyes— before he presents you with a single thrust, gripping your hips and you moan— he’s finally fucking you again, Gojo groans, pressing his weight against your ass but he starts slow, tantalizingly slow to make a pout form on your lips— his strokes go slow at first, and he makes you feel it, really feel him—

Gojo’s stretching your pussy out profusely, he bites down on his lip, keeping his eyes on your back that arches just a bit, brushing his thumb against your hands— the bracelets that wrapped around your wrists as he had you in his grip— arms just pinned back.

His hips are slow and steady, you’re feeling every hit against you— within seconds later, another song plays on the near broken speaker that was above the two of you, boomed loudly, singing throughout the dim red-lit private room, your lingerie peeled off your body, just barely hanging on.

“Satoruuu— you . . fuck like a old man, god—” You whined, poking fun at his slow thrusts.

“. . Hey,” he smacks his lips— and that’s when you gasp, feeling his hips ram into you at once, taking you by surprise, and he’s pounding into you now, watching your head slightly raise up before he leans in to push your head into the pillow. “We both know that’s not true. I wanted to be gentle, princess. Seeing how you could barely adjust to my size when you rode me a f—”

“Fuck me and shut up.” You grumbled, his thrusts slamming into you sloppily now, you’re just starting to hit against the sofa repeatedly, bounce after bounce.

“Fuck me and shut up, Satoru,” he mocks, pitching his tone to your liking— and you whined, feeling his sheer hips pivot, dipping right into you, his cock, the girth of it is just bullying you at this point, it’s so mouthwatering, he’s got your mind spinning in circles at this point.

“That’s what I’m doing, silly. If I go any harder I’m gonna break you— not saying I wouldn’t love to see that.” He grins.

Your eyes were so stupid, making fun of you as they just rolled and rolled, Gojo‘s mean sloppy strokes were just nasty— his weight that hovered over you had you babbling complete gibberish, straight up nonsense. You’re practically being fucked into the sofa— and he grins, seeing you fail to keep a back arch, just laid flat into the cushions— whimpering and then he groans— his hips snapping into you now.

“Mhm— gonna cum, princess—” he huffs out in a short breath, white strands of hair hanging down over his face, occluding his vision by the second, he’s balls deep, smacking back against your ass with his pelvis to where you’re so loud— at this point you didn’t care who heard, your mascara started to mess up— sticking towards your lashes and you’re just completely stupefied by Gojo’s shaft thrusting in and out— driving into your soaked clenching pussy at full speed, you got goosebumps. If you knew your best friend could fuck this good, maybe you’d fuck him a long time ago.

“Where d—”

“Inside, S-Satoru…” You cut him off, immediately stuttering out, being hammered into the settee.

He hums, an overweening grin on his lips, you just wanted him to fill you— you didn’t care, just a dumb cock-drunken mess, whimpering his name over and over as if it was some mantra— it was quite a sight to see.

“Ooh. To the brim, yeah?” He pants, his hips were so mean— his thrusts, you’re throbbing, feeling that same pool of heat rise up within you and you nod your head yet Gojo leans up close to you, a hand softly going around your throat, as he’s maintaining his sultry strokes. “Words, baby. Use them.”

You choke out a soft, “c—cum in me, Satoru..”

He slides a free hand down your back, brushing his fingers against your skin— and he groans, his cock kissing against that dearest sweet spot that’s got you so feral, spitting out such whiny whimpers, encouraging him—before he shoots a load into your cunt, it feels wavelike for Gojo almost, contracting and throbbing everywhere—

his warm sticky seed just fills you up, and when Gojo cums, it’s a lot— he grows quiet again, slowing his hips down to make you listen with him, and he whines out a low and rapsy, “oh f-fuckkk..”

He feels warm all over— watching your pussy get stuffed full, he licks his lips, taking his length out, hearing the pop noise occur again once he’s out of you, gifting you with such velvety ropes of his own. Gojo stares dumbfoundedly, sweat trickles down the sides of his forehead— and he’s slowly panting, abs clenching and as he pulls out, he watches his own cum start to spill out.

“Oops. Looks like I flooded your pussy, angel.” He breaks the abrupt silence, flipping you over to face him, and he’s got a smug grin— despite being fucked dumb himself, he was pussydrunk most definitely, a wave of relief washes over him once he came, and he swallows, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

“Y-You’re buying me new lingerie, Satoru.” You huffed out, sprawling your legs out a bit, your thighs were such a mess— you couldn’t lie, you wanted more.

Gojo runs a hand through his hair and watches him make himself decent— sliding his briefs back in before shrugging. “Yeah, I guess,” and then his body language changes for a moment as he stares at you, picking up your phone, and your eyes widen. “I love y—”

“. . . Hold on,” you muttered before sighing, sitting up from the sofa. “I totally forgot. Someone requested a session after you.”

He clears his throat, pretending he didn’t say what he was about to say. “Oh ummm.. who?”

You turn your phone towards Gojo with a dull expression, pressing your glossed lips together as the bright screen shined in his face— on the device, it was a man that seemed around the same age as Gojo— long dark black hair and a smug grin. “I don‘t know . . do you know him? Says his name is Suguru Geto.”