#112 makes content

[hwaslayer]

crimson (cs) | one shot.

—summary: life has always revolved around the club, the money, the clients— that is, until a first-time experience changes everything for san, for you; causing lines to be blurred, boundaries that are crossed. he didn’t think he’d get wrapped around your finger, falling deep into your spell. after all, he did become your number one client.

—pairing: choi san x stripper!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, nightclub au | smut, angst

—word count: 21.8k

—content/warnings: cussing/mature language, heavy on the night club/strip club setting, lap dances, oc doesn’t remove her clothing by choice but is a little more hands on with her clients at the club, alcohol consumption/intoxication, san’s got some baggage with his ex, mentions of a toxic past relationship, mentions of severed relationships with loved ones, protected/unprotected sex, praising, making out, one shower together hehe, missionary, doggy style wooof, cowgirl, sprinkle of spit play, clit play, breast play, mentions of marking, ass slapping, mentions of men getting touchy at the club, fighting (some pushing and a few punches), arguments, flashback scenes, not all ateez members are present - only mingi, san, wooyoung, hongjoong and jongho

—on rotation: agora hills - doja cat | anywhere - 112 | all night long - thuy & lil kev | IT’s you - wooyoung, san & yeosang

He became your number one client. 

Quick.

You remember the first time he stepped into the club with his friends, eyes roaming the floor until they landed on yours. You hadn’t expected the group to walk in when they did— the club being pretty dead lately, with the usual, familiar men walking in to let off some steam, to get their fix. You could tell it was the first time they’d ever walked into a strip club with the way they paused near the entrance, not really knowing where to go or how to get settled from there. One of his friends took the lead and walked towards the main stage, his hesitancy obvious with how stiff and awkward he was as he sat on one of the velvet chairs closest to the stage. You hadn’t really paid much mind to them at first, especially him. You had been busy on the other end of the stage, but his eyes had been glued on you the entire time.

That solely piqued your interest. 

He sunk into the chair comfortably, manspreading as his hands rested on his legs. He stared at you with his cat-like eyes, almost pleading for you to come closer and entertain him while his friends were busy tossing bills at your coworker on the right side of the stage. 

He didn’t budge.

You strutted over, initially planning to tease him a bit; play around, work with his ways to give him something to remember. Little did you know that taking the first leap, giving him that attention, was going to change everything between you and this stranger.

Everything.

▹ FLASHBACK

You step in front of the pole, sliding down until you get to a crouch– making sure your legs are spread enough for him to see the itty bitty fabric from your bodysuit barely covering your parts. You can see him subtly bite onto his bottom lip as he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. You get a little closer, getting onto your knees to crawl towards him; ass posted up in the air while you keep your eyes glued onto him. You’re close enough to the point where he can slip a few dollars into the v-neck of your bodysuit.

And he does, adorning that pretty smirk of his; pearly whites peeking through those pink, plump lips.

“Atta boy!” You hear one of his friends yell. “San’s finally enjoying himself!”

“Dude’s got heart eyes. Look at him. Mesmerized as shit.” Another of his friends laughs before continuing to shower the right side of the stage with bills.

San was his name.

San.

“Gorgeous.” You hear him mutter as you continue to work the stage, eyes glued onto him with every move— every twirl, every dip, every roll, you make. His eyes are taking note of every detail, every tattoo that lines your arm, down to your hip and thigh. Because he wants to study you, all of you.

“It’s his birthday, give him something special!” You glide down the pole before stepping off the stage to greet the men sitting around. It was a normal routine for you, a way to initiate flirty conversations and take men back to a VIP booth for lap dances— lap dances that could easily earn you rent in one night. 

A few of your regulars are sitting around, waiting for some kind of touch, attention. Which, you easily give through running your hand down their chests, whispering sweet nothings as they tuck a few more dollars under your bodysuit. 

Throughout all of this, San is still focused on you.

So, you make your way back to him; his friends are still loudly proclaiming he’s the birthday boy that needs a little gift tonight. And lucky for him, you’re feeling rather generous— especially with the way San buckles around you, pleading, begging, for more of your attention since he walked through the door.

“Is it really your birthday?” You crouch in front of him, hands traveling up his thighs while you lick your lips and bite onto your bottom lip.

“Yeah, it is.” He swallows the lump in his throat when your hands brush against his belt.

“Please give him a private dance.” The same friend from earlier says. He has short black hair with a mole underneath his eye, black button-up exposing his honey skin underneath. He slips you a few hundred bills, a smirk plastered on his face when you meet his gaze. You gladly take the money and stuff it into your bodysuit, grabbing San’s hand as you lead him to the VIP area.

“You didn’t have to.”

“You come to a strip club on your birthday and try to deny a lap dance? That your friend paid for? Odd.” You tease as you push him against another velvet couch. The VIP booths are off to the side of the club, with red mood lights and cringy, dark red velvet curtains draping the front to provide privacy. The booths are small, intimate; just enough space for you to work the pole and be all up on San.

“I mean, I just—” He chokes on his words as he plops onto the couch. “You’re a busy woman, it seems.”

“I am.” You straddle his lap. “But, I can make time for birthday boys, too.”

“That’s nice to know.” His eyes carefully watch your every move. Your hands travel down his neck, down to his tie— tugging on it as you start to bodyroll against the music, against him, making sure San feels you. “Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. You watch as he reaches, but prevents himself from touching your thighs; afraid he’d be crossing a line even though, technically speaking, those lines have been blurred since he walked into the club.

“It’s okay, San.” You reassure him with a whisper, lips almost grazing his ear. His eyes meet yours just as you pull back and bounce on him a bit, hands caressing up and down his chest. You continue to work him slowly, taking your sweet time to make San feel appreciated, to make San feel like he’s had the best birthday in years.

“You know my name?” He says, hands comfortably coming up your body, giving your breasts a squeeze. His hand runs up your neck, to your jaw— gently forcing you to keep eye contact with him as you continue to dance on him. He’s entranced by you that he doesn’t really know what else to say, or how to react. But god, do you feel amazing on him. That body, too?

Heavenly.

“Your friends have been yelling it all night.” You stand and straddle him in the opposite direction, legs wrapped around his torso as you lean forward and bounce on his dick a little more. San can’t help but run his hands down your ass, giving it a good squeeze before you come back up and pry yourself off of him to head to the pole in front of him.

“Fair enough. What’s your name then, beautiful?” You look at him, ignoring the question at first. But, San feels a little different than your usual customers, feels a bit more personal even though you don’t know anything about him nor does he know anything about you. It’s the way that he looks at you, focused on your face, your every move. It’s the way that it’s a room full of dancers and he’s stuck on you. Most men are in the club to fill a void; seeking for quick satisfaction, something that’ll eventually blow over until the next visit. But, it’s nothing more than that. You are nothing more than a dancer, nothing more than a face on stage— someone who collects their bills and runs.

But to San, you feel different.

Before you look into him too deeply, you quickly snap out of it and begin to twirl around the pole, doing your usual pole routine when you’re in the VIP booth. You fall into a split, hand coming down from the pole, down to your body.

San follows.

“My name?” You repeat, and San nods.

“Is that not a normal question here?”

“No one ever gives out their real names here.” You chuckle.

“Then, what’s your stage name?” Time passes when you’re dancing. Usually, you give them 30 mins tops, 45 mins if they keep sending big bills your way. But, you never try to spend more than that with the same person. Not in this community. With the hundreds San’s friend handed you, you would’ve stopped at 15 minutes if this were anyone else.

You’re closing in 20– probably will be 30 when you blink— but you don’t really wanna stop giving San this attention. He’s attractive, fitting his button-up and slacks in all the right places. He has black short hair, a few strands draping over his forehead, a pretty Rolex sitting on his wrist. You think he could handle you if you gave him the chance, and the thought is enough to make your brain short-circuit.

“Crimson.” He smirks, running his finger across his bottom lip while he continues to watch you bounce your ass on the stage. He thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on— the bodysuit doing your body wonders as it makes his mind wander to the unknown.

To what you would look like naked, to have you underneath him, to have you calling his name.

He’s been glued to you from the start and he’s not sure what kind of spell you have him under, but he wants more.

“Crimson.” He repeats, the stage name dripping off his tongue like water. “Are you here every night?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” You twirl with a smirk on your face.

“Come on, don’t do that.” He leans back, head resting against the couch as his hands rest on his thighs.

“Why would it matter?”

“I wouldn’t wanna come back if you weren’t here.” You giggle, stepping away from the pole and slotting yourself back in between his legs at a crouch.

“There’s plenty of other amazing dancers, you know? I don’t make the club.”

“You’re right, you don’t. But, it’s not them I’m asking about.” Your hands travel back up his legs, your face inches away from his dick. You swear you hear him hiss a bit the minute your face glides over, planting small, chaste kisses against his clothed stomach right above the belt. 

“I’m here 4 days a week.”

“What days?” You stand, bending to whisper in his ear. His hand comes up to graze your thigh and hip, shivers shooting down his spine when you respond with:

“I guess you’ll have to find out.” Because now, San takes it as a challenge and he’s determined to figure out which nights you’re here. Initially, he agreed to this whole thing thinking it’d be a one-and-done— a birthday done differently after all these past years only to become an after-thought as time goes on. But now, he wants more of you, all of you; wants to keep seeing you, feeling you, touching you, seeing you dance for him and him only.

He’s not sure what kind of spell you have him under, but he wants more.

You look at him once more, tipping his chin with your finger before dipping forward. You only give him enough so that the tips of your noses brush against each other, enough to tease but not please the birthday boy on his special night. 

“See you soon, Sannie. Happy birthday.” You whisper before turning on your heels and leaving him in the VIP booth to return to the stage. San has to gather himself for a minute, loosening the buttons on his shirt and his tie and adjusting his pants before heading back out to his friends.

“So?! How was it?” Wooyoung leans over on the chair right after he greets another dancer making her rounds across the floor.

“Good.” 

“He’s red in the face.” Mingi laughs. “It was more than good.”

“Say thank you for the best birthday ever, Wooyoung.” Wooyoung teases and San can’t help but shake his head. He’s still lost in thought, eyes subtly scanning the room to find you but you are busy taking new customers into the VIP booth. The room feels hot, and he wishes he could be in the VIP booth with you, alone. He truly wished it never ended. “Let’s head to the bar and get more drinks.” San shrugs and follows along, the 4 of them heading into the bar where the music is louder, and other dancers are flooding the area.

As the night goes on, you’ve finished tending to your regulars— already knowing what they want, what they need, but making your boundaries clear every time they try to step over the line and take advantage of your generosity tonight. By the end of your shift, it’s 3am and you’re exhausted. Your feet are hurting from the platform heels you’re sporting. It’s crazy how after all this time as a dancer, you still aren’t used to the heels you have to throw on, excited to dip your feet in a hot, lavender foot bath when you get home. You change back into your casual sweats and matching hoodie, throwing the hood over your head as you bid farewell to your coworkers and step out the back door into the cold, crisp night. When you cross the alley to get onto the main road, there are a few gentlemen standing around, some smoking their cigarettes while chatting with their friends.

Usually, no one causes you trouble. From time to time, your usuals are drunk and babbling nonsense about how they wish they could take you home, show you ‘a new world.’ But, no one ever gets handsy, no one ever forces themselves on you. For the most part, they know what this is, they know at the end of the night this is nothing but a temporary fantasy— one you fulfill for a specific time frame before the new day dawns and things go back to normal, to routine.

Tonight, it’s a bit different.

“Yo, isn’t that the dancer?” You hear a familiar voice as you cross through the alley, passing by a big group on your way. They seem to be tending to a friend who has gotten sloppily drunk, yacking their brains out off to the side of the club. 

“Aye cutie, going home already? Wanna give the birthday boy more love?” Another friend questions after he pulls the cigarette from in between his lips and exhales. “Bro, Mingi. Hurry up and get your sloppy ass together. It’s fucking cold.” He scolds their incredibly drunk friend afterwards.

“Hongjoong.” You hear San call for his friend. You do nothing but give them a simple look as you continue to walk on, trying not to feed them any attention. As attractive as San is, you are too tired to deal with this right now. After all, you are just a dancer. What more could you be to him? You temporarily feed into their fantasies, nothing more, nothing less.

“What, it’s a simple question. You never know, she might be down.” 

“Sorry.” San apologizes on his behalf, his eyes red and glazed from the alcohol.

“Not down?” Hongjoong asks again, his eyes now glued onto you.

“No, I’m not.” You respond, walking backwards to maintain eye contact. 

“Aw, why not?” Honey-skin with the black-button up chimes in. “He’s single. He could use it.”

“The fuck? Not helping.” San looks at his friend and taps him on the chest, making him bust out into a loud laugh.

“I don’t do that. Nothing beyond the club. Sorry to disappoint.” You smile at them before walking off onto the main street.

“Can he at least escort you home?!” They call out as you cross the street, making you roll your eyes as you continue the journey home all by yourself.

▹ END

Since then, there’s been a new addition to your regulars. One particularly more intriguing than the rest. You didn’t really believe Mia when she told you the familiar face came on your days off, asking the bartender if you were dancing tonight. He came, and he came, until he figured out the exact 4 days you worked. To say you were surprised would be an understatement because why on earth was San actually looking for you?

Why was he actually trying to figure out your schedule?

Did he really want to see you, or were you just his favorite dancer? Was he too shy to get close to the other dancers [at a strip club]?

It’s been a couple of weeks and San still comes. But, you’ve pushed the questions to the back of your mind; taking his visits with a grain of salt. You weren’t sure you’d pry anyway, afraid you’d be reading into this too much. After all, you are just a dancer.

What more could you be to him? You temporarily feed into their fantasies, nothing more, nothing less.

“Babe, your man is here.” Mia peeks into the dressing room, her head popping in from the doorway.

“He is not my man.” You give her a look, but she giggles and smirks before turning.

“Hurry that ass up, he seems anxious.” She calls out just before she heads back out to the main floor. You roll your eyes, dabbing more lip gloss on your lips before heading back out onto the floor. As promised, San sits in that same chair you met him during his first night at the club while Wooyoung [you’ve come to learn] lingers near the stage. Wooyoung is already entertaining another dancer, taking every opportunity to slip a few bills underneath her bikini top. 

To tease San a bit, you come up from behind up, trailing your hands down his chest while your lips ghost his ear. He turns slightly just for some sort of confirmation, though he’s already studied your body— down to the way you move, the way you tease.

“San.” You call his name. “Should I still be surprised that you’re here again?”

“You tell me.” He smirks, that pretty smile of his slowly becoming a weakness for you. “I’m just here to get my fix.” He winks, even though he really just wants to see you and be alone with you again.

“Get in line.” You tease. San immediately holds up a few bills, eyes darting from yours to your cleavage in that incredibly tiny silver bikini top you have on.

“Should I?” He subtly bites onto his bottom lip as he slips the money right into your top. You playfully roll your eyes and lead the way to a VIP booth, San undoing his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves just about halfway up his forearm. Truthfully, yes, it’s been a long day [week, even] and he’s needing a release; wanting to let out some steam. But, he’s also excited he could do that with you and only you. He watches your hips sway as you walk and wait for him to enter the booth, shutting the curtain close so that it’s just you and him underneath the red mood lighting. 

You step onto the stage; twirling around the pole before you bounce your ass on the stage. San watches intently, eyes glued to your bottom half when you spread your legs and show him how much those bottoms aren’t doing shit for you.

He is so, so curious. 

He takes note of every detail of your body, studying it over and over again like a book. And god, he wants to do everything and nothing all at once— stuck between wanting to get his hands all over you and doing nothing just to admire your pretty face, your figure. San felt like maybe this was just a phase, a new, exciting experience in his life that’ll soon fizzle out.

But when San looks at you, he can’t agree. He’s not sure what kind of spell you have him under, but he wants more.

He leans back onto the couch, his head resting against the edge as he manspreads. He licks his lips while watching your hands travel down your chest, your stomach. 

“Why are you so far?” He questions, motioning for you to come closer. Your bikini top and bottom are still driving him crazy, and he’s certain he’ll lose his shit once you sit on his lap.

“So eager tonight?”

“Just been a rough week.”

“I’m sure, as with everyone else here.”

“Am I just everyone else?” You let out a small chuckle, straddling his lap. His hands immediately come up to cup your ass, giving it a good squeeze before you start to work your hips on him. He’s gotten pretty comfortable by now, though San still shoots you a look as if it’s his way of asking for permission first. You appreciate the little things, and San most definitely isn’t just like everyone else. But, as with any defense mechanism, you resort to a guarded response:

“I mean, you’re here at ungodly hours tipping girls for a dance.” He lets out a small laugh, strong hands now at your hips. 

“Mm, I really only come for my favorite though. You might know her?” He jokes, his face only inches away from yours. 

“Do I?” You follow along with his teasing. The strap to your bikini top falls off your shoulder and San’s eyes follow; the small room feeling 10 degrees hotter, pants a little tighter. 

“Mhm.” He hums, his finger tracing a line up your leg. “She has tattoos just like this lining her thigh—“ He moves it up to your hip. “Up her hip.” His thumb comes up to your lip. “Pretty lips just like that. Long lashes. Prettiest smile I’ve seen.” His face moves towards your neck, lips grazing the surface below your ear. “Mole on the neck.” You subtly bite onto your bottom lip. San’s hand brushes up against your breast before he touches the small mole on your neck.

“Sounds like a lot of the girls around here.”

“Mm, but the one I’m thinking of goes by the stage name Crimson.” You continue to tease, bounce on him a little more, shake ass a little more. Your eyes linger on him a bit longer than you’d like, and you find yourself retracting. To him, the room is probably degrees hotter— for you, it’s starting to feel suffocating.

“She’s nothing but a ‘lil dancer, San.” You whisper in his ear, lips brushing against the surface before you hop off his lap. San is a little confused at the sudden change, but you feel like you’re reading too much into this, too much into San.

This isn’t supposed to be anything but business.

Why would San ever want you in that way? Most of this is to fulfill a want, a need, a fantasy. San is most likely saying this to get what he wants, to take charge and lead you on.

Though, at the end of the night, you are nothing but a face, a dancer. He wouldn’t think about you past the club. That is where this ends, regardless. 

You give San one last look before you brush past the curtain, returning to the stage closest to the bar. Wooyoung is getting dragged to a VIP booth, his other friends now standing and gathering around the stage to get up close and personal to the girls currently on there. You make a beeline to the stage near the bar, the area being a little more dead than the main stage room.

Right before you hop on stage, Mia is delivering drinks to a few men off to the side of the room. She shoots you a look, following after handing over the drinks.

“Why are you rushing? Did something happen?” You wait for the bartender to hand you some water.

“Nothing happened.” You sip a bit to shake off your thoughts, your feelings.

“You sure? I’ll beat someone’s ass if you need me to and call security to toss them out.”

“I promise.” You look at her and squeeze her arm. “I’m just gonna stick here for the rest of the night, though. Need a change of pace.” She nods.

“Alright, if you say so. I’m still onto you.” She says, leaving you to help the bartender with delivering the drinks.

For the rest of the night, you continue to dodge San and his friends until the end of your shift. You don’t usually leave through the front doors of the club, but tonight, you sneak out and rush across the street with your hood up. You can hear San and his friends as they leave, causing you to pick up the pace of your steps— hoping you’ll avoid being caught.

But, San sees you, anyway. His eyes can’t help but watch for a few seconds more before he’s returning his attention back to the boys. He felt the shift earlier, and he picked up on the way you continued to hop from stage to stage— seemingly avoiding their group. He’s not sure what happened, or why he feels like you’ve suddenly got your guard back up around him. It’s something about you, and San knows it shouldn’t be that serious. This became a fun little past-time for him and his boys. But every time he’s left the club recently, he leaves a little bit more attached to you.

Because yes, you know how to work your magic in there. It’s no fucking joke. He gets a taste of you on stage, in the booth, and it blows his mind. But other than that, it’s the way you return the same look, the same touch. There’s something else, more to you than the surface, and he’s curious to find out.

It shouldn’t be that serious, but for San, it is.

“What’s wrong?” Jongho pushes a small coffee your way, cocking a brow when he sees how checked out you seem today.

“W-what?” You look at him, finally pulled out of your daze. “Oh, nothing.” You grab the cup and take a sip, giving him a tiny toothless smile of appreciation. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” He sets his coffee onto the side of the cart, helping you unbox a few albums that arrived today and needed to be restocked on the shelves. “So, really. What is it?” He asks, eyes still focused on restocking. Jongho has been one of your closest friends— probably the only closest, genuine friend that stuck by your side since you were younger. He still keeps in touch with the group you grew up with since middle school, but lots of those relationships have been severed after you started dancing at the club. Jongho was the only one who didn’t see you any differently, nor did he take the job as anything bad. He always knew you were passionate about dance and he understood you when times got tough; strapped on cash and needing a quick fix that would help you get by. It was a bit of a risky, somewhat dangerous step, but who was Jongho to control your life? You already didn’t have a great relationship with your parents, so the least Jongho can do is support you and be your pillar if no one else would be. He knew you could make your own decisions, and only you knew yourself best. He knew you’d take care of yourself, whatever that looked like.

Jongho was the manager at this small, quaint music shop in the city. Though, the city you lived in wasn’t entirely huge compared to others. It still had its old-school touch of wooden, soft decor with a rage of vintage to mainstream albums and art throughout the shop. The owner was a middle-aged man who used to play in a band back in the days, now retired and trying to stay in touch with his roots through the shop. Jongho had worked here for years before stepping into the full-time manager position and helped bring you on, especially during the time you needed it the most.

You really appreciate Jongho, and you’re glad you at least have him.

“Sometimes, I feel like I should’ve just finished school.”

“You did. High school?”

“College.” Jongho shrugs when you respond and give him a look.

“If it wasn’t what you wanted to do at the time, then why force yourself? Besides, it’s never too late. You can always go back to school.” He turns to you and places a hand on his hip. “Why are you thinking about this all of a sudden?”

“I don’t really know. What if they were right? What if I’m not good for anything besides being a stripper? What if I’m just that?”

“You and I both know that’s not true.” Jongho tosses the empty box aside, triggering you to get it together and start doing your job. “You’re smart, talented, and passionate about a lot of things. Especially dance. Just because you work at a club doesn’t make you less of a person, Y/N.” He says in that usual serious tone of his.

“Thanks.” You poke your bottom lip out as you arrange the albums and start tagging the price stickers onto them.

“Who is it?” You sigh, already knowing Jongho won’t leave it alone until you finally tell him the truth about why you’re suddenly questioning your life.

“It’s the same guy I told you about. The birthday boy.” Jongho does a tiny nod of acknowledgement.

“He’s still showing up with his friends?”

“Yeah, surprisingly. And he always looks for me. Asks for me. Doesn’t pay attention to any other dancer there.”

“Maybe he has a crush on you.”

“We know nothing about each other. He knows my stage name, he knows my club persona.” You sigh. “That’s why it made me question life. It’s dumb, I know.” You purse your lips together as you shove the albums into the shelf and move onto the next task.

“Well, there has to be a reason why he keeps coming back for you and only you. Maybe he wants to know you, outside of the club and that whole persona thing.” Jongho shrugs. “Never say never.”

“He’s a businessman of some sort. Suited up all the time. He must work for a really good company. Probably has a family that is well off.” You shake your head and make your way back to the front. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“I wouldn’t say that. Why don’t you ask—“ At this point, just as you settle at the register with Jongho, a few people enter the shop. You whip your head towards the entrance when you hear some laughter, only for your eyes to widen.

“Oh, shit. Jongho!” You whisper harshly. “What the hell is he doing here?!” He looks over your shoulder as San and Wooyoung walk in, Wooyoung instantly making a turn to head to the vinyl collection.

“Is that birthday boy?” You nod with a worried expression on your face. San is about to walk past the register when he furrows his brows at the small commotion happening behind the counter, turning his attention towards you and Jongho.

“Too late dude, he’s right there.” Jongho blocks you from leaving. “It’d be too obvious now, just take it like a fucking champ and say hi.” He says through gritted teeth. “I gotta walk around anyways.” He turns to San enthusiastically. “Hey, welcome in.”

“Hey.” San looks at the both of you, his brows still furrowed when his eyes land on your face.

“Hi. Let me know if you need help.” You try to scurry off, but San stops you.

“Woah, wait. You’re—“

“Don’t say it outloud here.” San’s lips form into the shape of an ‘o’ before nodding. He can’t help but glaze over your features and how naturally beautiful you are– the sun hitting your skin perfectly. You never packed on the makeup heavily on stage, but you did still have a face on every time you worked at the club. He subtly nibbles onto his bottom lip, hands dug deep into his jacket pockets.

“You work here, too?”

“Makes up for the days I’m not there.” He nods.

“Well, hi.” He gives you a small smile.

“Hi.” You tilt your head. “I’ve never seen you around this part of the city. Ever.” He snorts a bit.

“We’re never usually on the outskirts, but Wooyoung was adamant about getting vinyls for his new record player. You guys are the only shop that has a good collection.” You nod, San stepping aside when a customer unloads their basket onto the counter. He lingers around, watching how delicate you are handling the merchandise and how big your smile is when helping the customer. As expected, you’re very different from the club— you seem more relaxed, laid back. Sweet. Happy.

“So, are you just gonna stand there and wait for Wooyoung?” You chuckle after wrapping up the transaction and handing the customer their bag, bidding farewell as they head out of the store.

“I don’t really need anything so, yeah. I guess so. I’d rather talk to you, anyway.” You give him a look and take the sticker gun in your hand, walking away from the counter when a coworker comes back from break to relieve you.

“I’m working.” You head back to the floor, San following behind.

“I know.” He watches as you begin to sort through another shipment. “Are you gonna tell me your name now that we’re outside of the club?”

“Why do you wanna learn my name so badly? And why are you always at the club? Don’t you have like.. other things to do? A girlfriend or someone to entertain?” You shiver at the thought. God, you hope not. Especially with how he’s been lately. But, men are trash and you wouldn’t expect any less.

“Because I do? You’re not just someone from the club.” You look at him briefly before looking back down at the stack of albums. “And no, I don’t have someone to entertain. I wouldn’t be there often if I did.” Touché. “We just had fun on my birthday. It’s a good way to let out some steam after busy days.”

“Hm.” You hum.

“I like seeing you there.” He casually says, making you pause in your actions before continuing. 

“I don’t make the club, San.”

“You make it for me. Or else I wouldn’t be going.” You look at him again with a hand on your hip. He has a small smirk plastered on his face and you can’t help but notice how attractive he looks under the daylight— smooth honey skin, hoodie over his head, soft black hair teasing his forehead. Your eyes linger on him for a lot longer than you’d like, having to force yourself to snap out of it when you realize [again] that San wouldn’t want you in that way.

“What are you trying to do here?” You cock a brow up just before you start working on the CDs in front of you, marking them down and adding new price tags to the back.

“Get to know you.”

“Why me?”

“Why not you?” San continues to smirk, leaning against the shelves. 

“Y/N, take your break in a few minutes.” Jongho says coming down the aisle before giving San a small, pursed smile.

“Yeah, Y/N.” San chimes in and teases. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

“You ready? I found what I needed—“ Wooyoung comes from around the corner, pausing mid-sentence when he realizes San isn’t alone. “Oh, hey! I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Your eyes dart to Wooyoung and he smiles. “Wow, you’re really pretty in the daylight—“ San taps him on the chest. “What, I’m just saying! It’s hard to really see faces in the club lighting. Besides, I don’t get the privilege of having private—“

“Okay, that’s—yeah.” San cuts him off and scratches at his head. “Really sorry.”

“You ready?” You let out a sigh before asking Wooyoung. “I can ring you up at the other register before I head to break.”

“Yeah.” You lead them to the smaller checkout stand at the end of the aisle, scanning Wooyoung’s items and bagging up his things as he pays. Throughout the entire time, San is still watching you; subtly biting onto his bottom lip when he can’t help but think of the nights at the club, being intimately close with you— seeing you in a different light than this.

Which, he’s trying not to. He just can’t help it. You are beauty in its purest form, and he wishes he could know more about you.

And you don’t fail to notice. 

The look San has in his eyes is different from what you’re used to seeing at nighttime. It makes you nervous from the butterflies you feel, the curiosity running through your veins— even if the other thoughts in your mind say otherwise.

“Guess we’ll see you around?” Wooyoung smirks before walking out of the shop first.

“See you soon, Y/N.” Just before San walks out, you shut off the part of your brain that keeps spewing negativity and all these other ‘what if’s.’

“W-wait.” 

“Hm?” He hums, his hands in his pocket as he cocks a brow up. You begin to scribble your number down on a random receipt that was left behind, pushing it over to San shortly afterwards.

“Don’t ask for free dances or anything though, I’ll block you.” San chuckles before grabbing the receipt and tucking it into his pocket.

“Don’t want that, now do we?” He winks before stepping out of the shop.

“Cute.” You glare at Jongho and hit him on the arm. “Ouch, what!”

“Why would you say my name around him!”

“You act like he wasn’t gonna find out one way or another, the dude definitely has googly eyes over you.” He crosses his arms and smirks. “Besides, you slipped him your number.”

“Ugh.” You continue to glare at him. “I’m going on my break.”

“So you can text San, hm?” You mouth out a quick ‘fuck off’ before turning on your heel and heading to the break room. The entire scenario hadn't been processed in your mind until now, unsure if giving your number to San was a good idea or not.

You didn’t wanna get attached to him. Not him, of all people. Though, you know you will, and that’s why it feels like a bad decision.

A decision you think you might regret.

The thought blows over when you get home that night, exhausted from your work day and the commute. You hop in the shower and whip up a teriyaki chicken rice bowl with some veggies. You plop onto your couch and turn on the TV, picking up on where you left off on the last episode of the series you were watching. Barely 7 minutes in, a call comes through on your phone, your eyes widening at the name flashing across the screen. Just as you briefly debate on answering the call, your hands are already moving towards the phone; swiping right to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” San says on the other line so nonchalantly, as if you two had been talking for years.

“Hi?” You let out a small, nervous chuckle. “What made you call?”

“I just wanted to talk to you and ask how the rest of your day at work went.”

“Oh.” You shrug as if he can see you. “It was alright. Nothing too bad.”

“Yeah? Nobody get on your nerve throughout the day?”

“I also work at a strip club. I think the music shop is very mild when it comes to that.” You joke, making San laugh a bit on the other line. “How was the rest of yours?”

“Good. Wooyoung and I just grabbed something to eat before he brought me home.”

“Where’s home for you?”

“Probably 20 minutes away from the city.” He responds just as you hear dishes clinking in the background. “Did you eat already?”

“I am right now.”

“Oh shit, sorry. Do you want me to call you later? Or, I guess, I can just text you?”

“It’s okay, San. I don’t mind.”

“Mmkay. Just checking.”

“I know you just saw Wooyoung, but you guys aren’t hanging out with the rest of your friends tonight?”

“Believe it or not, we like taking breaks from each other.” He laughs a bit. “No but, Mingi, the really tall one, has a date or whatever tonight.”

“Or whatever?” You laugh.

“He’s weird about these things. Says it’s a date when we all know he’s not really ready to date seriously.”

“Mm, one of those guys. You like that, too?”

“Definitely not. If I really like someone and we hit it off, I’ll pursue them to no end.”

“Mhm.” You find yourself teasing him more. “Cute. Have you guys known each other for long?”

“Me and Wooyoung grew up together. Our parents are close, too. We met Hongjoong and Mingi in college.”

“That’s sweet.”

“What about you, Y/N? What about your friends? Tell me more about yourself. I meant it when I said I wanna get to know you.” You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, even though every bone in your body is telling you to continue keeping your guard up.

“Ah, did you? Cause it definitely sounded like a line.” You snort.

“It’s not just a line. Seriously.”

“I honestly don’t know what to tell you. I don’t have an interesting story.” You poke at your food before taking a small bite.

“Don’t say that. I find you interesting no matter what.”

“You say that now.”

“I’ll say it later, too.” He reassures you.

“I– I don’t know. I’m not close to my family after the decisions I’ve made, and friends left my side especially after I started working at the club more. Jongho is really the only person who has stayed by my side since we were younger.”

“I’m sorry. Why aren’t they your friends anymore?”

“I guess they just think I’m dumb for not going to school and for settling at the club.”

“I mean, that’s not really fair? It’s not dumb if it wasn’t what you wanted.”

“Yeah, well. They didn’t think I’d take dance that seriously.”

“You’re really good at it.” You chuckle hearing his response. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Wish I could tell you. My family is in the same boat. My older sister graduated from college and started her own lab after finishing her postdoctoral appointment. Imagine how much my family looks down on me. I struggled for awhile and Jongho helped me out a lot.”

“I’m glad you at least have him.”

“I am too.”

“What else do you like to do?”

“San, are you sure you don’t have anything else to do tonight?” He laughs. “What about your family?”

“Swear. My family is fine, they’re doing their own thing.”

“Do they live around here too?”

“Nope, maybe an hour or so away? I have an older sister too, but she’s overseas right now. She’s in the fashion industry.” He lets out a small sigh. “I genuinely wanted to call you and talk to you after seeing you today.”

“You’re such a mystery.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know. You just are. I see you at the club a couple of times, then I see you at the shop. Now we’re on the phone. It’s just funny how things play out.”

“Nothing mysterious about it. Maybe it’s just meant to play out that way.”

“What’s meant to play out that way?”

“Us.” You pause. Mainly because you couldn’t believe this is how things were meant to play out with San. Why was he everywhere and nowhere at the same time? Why was he calling you and trying to get to know you? And what if it was meant to play out this way? It could either mean two things— one, San was meant to play some sort of good in your life.

Or two, San was meant to break your heart and teach you yet another lesson in this crazy universe.

You weren’t sure what to think of it all, if you were even ready to figure out what all of this meant.

But, at this moment in time, all the regrets and thoughts continue to brush over your head because you like hearing San’s voice and you like talking to him outside of the club. You are intrigued, and you can’t say you aren’t keen on finding out what this is.

So, you continue to talk to San. 30 minutes turns into an hour; slipping into bed with San still on the other line. It’s easy to talk to him and you like that he initiates most of the conversation. He doesn’t judge you and he doesn’t pressure you into talking about things you don’t feel comfortable diving into right now. He doesn’t put the focus on himself much and he listens. You find yourself giggling, tossing and turning under the sheets— thoughts exploring uncharted territories.

San almost feels like a bad decision; a decision you think you might regret.

For tonight, you’ll take it. You’ll take this for what it is, and you’ll take San for who he is. You’ll find out what his role is in your life and why this is playing out the way it is for the both of you.

Maybe he is good.

Maybe he is a heartbreaker.

Or maybe San is meant to be San, a passing moment in your life that eventually just ends.

Whatever it is, you’ll figure it out. Even if it's something you might regret later on.

“Can I tell you something Y/N?” He asks just as you feel the exhaustion hitting your body.

“Mhm?”

“You’re really beautiful. I like seeing you, especially on stage. You know how to drive people crazy.”

San continues to text and call you, just to ask if you’re doing okay— to let you know he always looks forward to seeing you. Small smiley faces, goodmorning’s and goodnight’s, dropping by with food or just to say hi at the music shop; you can’t help but feel the butterflies in your tummy grow when it comes to San. 

You’re not sure if you despise it or not.

Jongho says you should just see where it goes and tries to reassure you by telling you what’s meant to be, will be, and that you shouldn’t read too much into things right now. 

Keep doing you as you have, and continue to move forward.

But, it’s a lot easier said than done. Especially when you don’t understand what San wants out of you. He’s respected your boundaries through text, not asking for free dances or nudes, only keeping it brief to check in on you sometimes. Yet, at the club, he’s handsy. He’s vocalized how much he wants you and how much he wishes he could know more about you outside of the club.

San is an enigma.

You count in your head as you slowly take steps forward on stage, trying your hardest not to get distracted.

One, two.

Twirl around the pole.

Three, four.

Fall into the splits.

Five, six.

Bounce.

You get back onto your fours, shaking ass for the men lined up near the stage constantly tossing bills your way and shoving it under the ties of your bikini bottoms. It isn’t long before the main stage is where the most activity is happening— the club incredibly busy tonight with tons of celebrations. You’ve just stepped out of a VIP booth, your client paying you more than you could ask for by simply requesting if you could just work the pole for him. You gladly oblige, making it one less man to give a lap dance to before your shift is over. 

Besides, you can’t help but think of San.

And the moment you start to think about him, is the exact moment you find him lingering in the club with his boys— eyes scanning the stage and room before they finally find you near the VIP booths. It’s been a minute since they’ve stopped by. San has mentioned that he and his friends have just been swamped at work and that he can’t wait to let some steam out soon. He’s in all black tonight; black fitted slacks, boots, a black-button up with his chest partially exposed. He’s got a silver chain around his neck, and god, does the sight immediately do things to you.

They order a round of drinks before San finds himself at one of the seats next to the stage. He’s entertaining the crowd a bit, joining in when your coworker steals the stage and grabs the attention from the men around you. You don’t mind because it gives you the opportunity to slip away and take a breather, maybe run for a quick water break before you sway your hips in San’s direction. 

And sure enough, he’s been waiting. Like he always is.

Just as you sweet talk your way through the crowd and grab a few extra tips for it, San gently wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls you onto his lap. He smirks at you, eyes glazed over from all the alcohol he’s already downed.

“Mm, I’ve been waiting.” He says. “Can I have you?” The question sends shivers down your spine, his touch against your hip electrifying. 

“Depends.” You tease as he slips a few bills into your bra. “Can you handle it tonight? You’re pretty drunk.”

“Can always handle you, babygirl.” He says in your ear. You instantly stand to your feet and grab his hand, leading him to one of the free VIP booths. As soon as you pull the curtains close and try to work your way over to the pole, San pulls you back onto his lap— hands caressing your sides as you fix your position and properly straddle him. “Need you here, not there.”

“Thought you liked watching me work the pole.”

“I do, but not as much as I like watching you on me.”

“You’re incredibly suave tonight, what’s gotten into you?” You giggle, feeling San’s hands grope your ass.

“Just missed you.”

“We’ve been talking quite a bit.”

“I know, but it’s not the same as seeing you.” 

“You just missed the club.”

“Nah. You.” He corrects you. Something about San is different tonight, but you can’t say you dislike it. He’s a little more straightforward, a little more bolder, a little more open about his want— his need— for you. Especially when he caresses your tits; palm gently gliding over before giving your nipples a good pinch. Especially when his lips ghost over your neck, jaw, finally finding its way to your ear. Especially when he whispers about how pretty you look and how he wishes he could kiss you.

“Who said you couldn’t?” He pauses for a moment to look at you, really look at you, before taking his hand to your cheek and bringing you down to his lips. The way your lips crash is intense, full of lust.

Want.

Need.

A craving to be fulfilled.

The kiss easily turns wet, sloppy; San’s hands digging half crescents into your hips as he guides you to work your hips against him. He lets out a shaky breath in between, lips now traveling down to your jaw, neck.

“Fuck.” You hear him groan against your skin, right before his tongue glides against the surface; nibbling and sucking gently to soothe the mark.

“San.” You call his name as he continues down to the base of your neck, collarbone— lips now pressed against your inner breast. Part of you feels so, so good in San’s arms. But the other half feels so incredibly conflicted about the whole situation solely because San is an enigma. You aren’t sure if it’s enough to sway you away. Reality hits when the crowd outside roars in cheers, pulling you away from the sweet daydream, the sweet fog that temporarily clouded your vision. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you gently pry him away and push him back. “San.” You repeat.

“Yeah?”

“We shouldn’t.” He licks his lips, eyes still glued onto yours. Surprisingly, he doesn’t fight back, no. Instead, he kisses you one last time— lips locked until one of you pulls away first. You hop off his lap and walk off towards the curtain, giving him one last look before leaving him alone. “See you out there, okay?” Is all you manage to say. San knows better than to do this here, of all places, but he can’t seem to help himself. He’s stuck on you, has this pull to you, and he wants it all. He doesn’t fight though, because he should be doing better. This probably looks all wrong and confusing to you and he doesn’t mean to do that. He’s just no good at this, no good at approaching you— you, so sexy and so independent.

It’s something about you, and he’s losing his mind.

“Shoot your fucking shot already.” Hongjoong comes around the corner from the bathroom, running into San as he exits the VIP booth.

“What?” He asks, still a bit discombobulated after the short but intense session in the booth.

“Your girl.”

“She’s not my girl.”

“Shut up.” He says, forehead furrowed. “We come to the club and all you do is look for her. Can’t tell me there isn’t anything more to it.”

“I don’t know.”

“Just do it. What do you have to lose? You’re not getting any younger.” Hongjoong snickers, but it quickly fades when San’s expression hasn’t changed. “You’re just trying to fuck, right?” San finally meets his eyes but he doesn’t say anything, and it kinda freaks Hongjoong out. “What the fuck, San?”

“What?”

“You actually like her? You can’t be serious. I thought it was just a one time thing–”

“What the fuck does it matter?” San lets out a small chuckle to play off the whole thing, but frankly, he’s trying his hardest to not let Hongjoong ruin his mood. “Look, I’m not trying to think about this here. Ready?” He nods towards the bar, finding Mingi and Wooyoung amongst the crowd.

For the rest of the night, you do what you do best— deflect and avoid. You’re not sure how long you can keep doing this around San, especially every time you have an encounter with him. You start questioning yourself so much that it gets to you, that the reality of the situation starts dawning on you even though you have no foundation to back things up. But, you’d like to think that you haven’t fallen too deep; you could still swim up to the surface if you needed to, and you’d like to keep it that way.

However, that feels like a far reach when your shift ends. You feel like you’ve escaped for the umpteenth time until you realize you really haven’t, and that maybe, San was always going to be an enigma you were meant to figure out.

“Y/N.” You hear a familiar voice call for you as you walk down the street. You’re still walking at a steady pace, but the steps behind you seem to be catching up fairly quickly. “Y/N—” You turn and place your hand over his mouth, making San furrow his brows at you.

“We’re still nearby. I’d like it if you didn’t go yelling my name around like that.” He chuckles as you let him go, continuing your walk home.

“Some people should know your name by now, right?”

“And the majority that don’t?” You look at him. “Let’s keep it that way.”

“Sorry, beautiful.” You playfully roll your eyes, trying to keep your guard up.

“What’re you doing, San?”

“Walking you home.”

“What about your friends?” You pause in your steps, creating enough distance between you and the club by now.

“They can handle their own.” He shrugs. “Let me walk you.”

“Then, what?”

“Then at least I know you’re safe and sound.” You let out a breath before continuing to walk with San. You aren’t gonna lie— having San’s company makes you feel ten times safer, and you feel comfortable having him alongside you. Usually, you rush your walk just to get home in one piece. Tonight, you can finally enjoy the crisp, night time air for a bit longer. 

Tonight, you can finally enjoy the stars for a bit longer.

Tonight, you can enjoy San for a bit longer.

“San?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t you get tired of going to the club?” He shakes his head and laughs.

“Not really. It’s kinda fun. Beats going to a regular club.”

“Can I ask?” He nods. “What do you do for work?”

“I just work for a tech company in their finance department.”

“Interesting.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know tech guys liked strip clubs so much.”

“Change of scenery.” You chuckle, easing up a bit in San’s company. “Is this your usual walk home?”

“Mhm. It’s not so bad.”

“Yeah, but it’s also like.. 3am.” San looks down at you. “Why don’t you just take an Uber home or something?”

“Why, when it’s within walking distance?”

“Safety reasons. You don’t feel scared?”

“Not really. I’ve done this walk for years now.”

“Why don’t I just bring you home from now on?” You laugh.

“Even if you don’t go to the club?”

“Especially when I don’t go to the club.”

“That’s too much work. I can’t ask you to do that. Plus, you work a regular 9-5 I’m assuming.”

“But, I’m offering? I don’t really trickle in right at 9 for work, as long as I make my 8 or so hours for the day. Plus, I can work from home sometimes.” You don’t say anything, so he quickly follows up with: “I know the walk is close, but it makes me feel weird about letting you be out here this late after work.”

“Hm.” You look at him.

“Let me.” 

“Hey, just so we remember this— you offered and put that out on the table. Not me.” He laughs.

“Got it, your honor.”

“Are you not cold?”

“No. The cold is helping a lot right now.”

“How drunk were you today?”

“Pretty drunk.” He laughs. “It’s been a very long couple of weeks. I probably sound like a broken record but there’s no better way to put it. Lots of deadlines to meet with little time to prep.”

“Ah, the surprise deadlines. I’m sure it went fine, right?”

“Yeah, sure. After all the stress they put me through first.” San snorts.

“It’s done now. You made it.” You turn the corner and continue to walk down the path until you reach your building— a small, quaint building in the middle of the residential area. You lead San to your door at the far right corner of the building. “Welp, this is me.” You turn to look at him and he gives you a tiny, toothless smile.

“Cute.” You awkwardly fiddle with your fingers, feeling bad about turning San away. A part of you genuinely wants his company outside of the club and he seems to want the same, too.

“D-do you wanna come in, by any chance?”

“Only if you’re okay with it.”

“I am.” You turn to unlock the door. “Sorry if it’s super small and not aesthetically pleasing to look at.”

“Y/N, don’t apologize.” He steps in and steps out of his shoes, eyes wandering around your tiny studio. “It’s nice. I like the plants.” He eyes the plants near the shelf that blocks off your bed from the couch, TV and ‘living room’ area.

“Thanks. I try to take really good care of them.” He chuckles as he plops onto the couch.

“It’s a cozy space. It’s perfect for you, no?”

“I like it. I’ve been here for the past year and a half or so? Jongho’s aunt is the landlord and he did a lot to convince her to let me have this place for decent rent.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah. He was probably tired of me.” You grab two water bottles from your fridge. “I lived with him for a long time. We shared rooms.”

“He’s a really good friend.”

“He is.” You stand near him and hand him the water bottle. “Make yourself at home, I’m just gonna take a quick shower.”

“Can I join?” 

“Do you wanna be tossed out?” He laughs.

“Kidding.” He pulls out his phone and begins to scroll through his social media. “I’ll wait patiently.” You grab your shirt and shorts before running into the bathroom to take a quick body shower, excited to rinse off the night from your skin. It only takes you about 15 minutes to fully get ready for bed, San still waiting patiently on your couch. His eyes shift from his screen to you—

Slowly ogling your body,

Down to your legs.

“Feel better?”

“Mhm.” You plop next to him, watching as he lets his head rest on the back of the couch. “Tired?”

“Yeah.”

“You should go home and get rest.”

“Do you want me to go home?” He looks at you and you aren’t really sure how to answer the question. Yes, you do, so San can rest.

But no, you don’t, because you like having him here.

You can’t help but remember the events that transpired earlier at the club and what it would feel like to have his lips on you again—

“No, not really.”

“Good, cause I wanna keep you company for a little longer.”

“San?”

“Yeah, pretty girl?”

“When you kissed me earlier—” You lick your lips and swallow the lump in your throat. “Did you kiss me because you were drunk at the club, or because you genuinely wanted to?”

“I told you I really wanted to.” You sit and look at him, unsure of how you feel about his response. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then?”

“I don’t know, San. I can’t read you.”

“You don’t have to.” He sits up, his face only inches away from yours. “It’s okay to tell me you don’t believe me, Y/N. I’d rather you be honest than not.”

“Then, no. I don’t.” He lets out a tiny, breathy laugh, a small smirk perked up on the corner of his lips.

“Fair enough.” He says lowly, eyes scanning your lips, your face and all its features. “Then, will you give me another chance to show you so you do believe me?” His thumb gently caresses your chin before grazing over your bottom lip. “Hm?” He hums. You nod, giving him leverage to dip down further, lips locked with yours for another soft, passionate kiss. It quickly deepens when San slips his tongue in; his fighting for dominance against yours. You find yourself hurrying to position yourself onto his lap, hands grabbing at his shirt. He gently nibbles on your jaw before making his way back down to your neck, no longer hesitating to suck on certain spots to leave his mark. His hands make their way up your shirt, palming at your tits while you fiddle with the buttons of his shirt. “Let’s get this off, baby.” The petname sends shivers down your spine, making you easily oblige to his request.

You shed off his shirt just as he tosses yours to the side, mouth instantly latching onto your perked bud. His tongue moves in a circular motion, pulling back with a pop before moving onto the next. You let out a moan when he flicks around your nipple, sucking gently before trailing his lips a bit further down.

“Hold onto me. Need you on the bed.” He huskily says as you wrap your arms and legs around him, San’s hands coming down to grip your ass. He takes you to your bed, wasting no time to get rid of the rest of the clothing sitting on your bodies. Everything feels so intimately rushed with San because there’s so much desire, so many thoughts and cravings to be fulfilled. He continues to kiss you, slipping two digits into you to test the waters— to see how wet you are, how tight you are. “Jesus.” He mumbles against your lips. 

You are dripping.

“Sannie.” The nickname accidently slips from your lips again, making him smile against you.

“So cute when you say my name like that.” He lets out a breath. “You’re so wet for me. Think you can take me now?” He’s pumping himself and the sight makes you drool. He’s perfectly built— toned abs and biceps, skin dipped in honey, a perfectly thick cock. You nod, eager to get a taste of San, eager to see what he’ll do to you.

“Need you.”

“Oh, you do?” He has that smug smirk on his face just as positions himself at your entrance. “Shit, I don’t have a condom—” 

“Here.” You quickly dig through your nightstand and grab a condom you got last week. Dude who tipped you off thought he was slick by throwing a condom in there, thinking he could get some.

At least it came in handy to your liking.

San quickly rips the packet open, throwing the condom on before lowering himself back down onto you. You let out a broken moan when he slips himself in, slowly burying himself to the hilt. His breath is hot against your neck, the both of you releasing shaky exhales while you get used to the feeling. He begins to rock his hips at a slow, steady pace; mumbling curses against your skin as he adjusts to your walls sucking him in.

“God, you feel so good— fuck, Y/N. You’re so hot.” He grunts, his thoughts running wild about seeing you at the club, getting his lap dances.

To this.

Everything about you drives San wild and he’s not even sure how he can explain the feeling. So sexy, so independent; attitude on na-na while worrying about yourself and yourself only.

San starts to fuck you faster, hips pounding against you and echoing in the studio. You’re both probably a bit too loud for your neighbors right now, but you truly could care less. San was driving himself into you at a delicious pace, hitting you in all the right spots.

“San.” You call his name, hands tugging at the hair sitting on the nape of his neck. “Like that— like that.” You whimper. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah, baby?” He sits up to pound against you at a different angle, hands at your thighs to spread you completely open. He loves seeing the way your slickness coats his cock, his head tilting back in immense pleasure. “Wanna cum for me, pretty girl? Wanna cum all over this dick? So good for me.” He praises, and praises, thumb coming down to work your clit. 

“Oh, god.” You moan, hands gripping at the sheets as you feel yourself tipping over the edge the more San fucks into you, the more he rubs at your clit, the more your hips match his movements. You have never been this turned on by someone— at least, not in a very long time. San is so, so attractive. He is suave, and he knows what he’s doing with you. “So close.” San continues to praise you, telling you how beautiful you look underneath him.

How pretty you are.

How badly he wants you.

How you always drive him crazy.

And if it wasn’t for the constant praising, if it wasn’t for the way his hips worked so well against yours, if it wasn’t for the way San was skillfully rubbing at your clit— you wouldn’t be close to unraveling so quickly.

“San, I’m—“ You barely make out before you come undone beneath him, mouth slacked open as a silent moan leaves your lips; body trembling in his grip. This gives him momentum to drive his hips into you faster, harder; uncoiling shortly afterwards.

“Shit, Y/N. Feels too good.” San groans, unloading into the condom. His hands tightly grip your thighs as he gives it one, two more thrusts before coming back down from his high.

Everything feels so beautiful, yet intimately rushed. So, so good yet equally so, so bad for you.

Before you can even say anything, San lowers himself to give you a kiss on the lips. He kisses you for awhile before slipping himself out and grabbing a napkin to wrap the condom in. He quietly takes another few napkins to help clean up, wiping you gently before moving onto himself and plopping onto your bed next to you.

“You okay?” He asks, eyes closed as he regulates his breathing.

“Mhm.”

“Good?”

“Maybe.” He chuckles at your response, pulling you into his arms while you pull the sheets over the both of you. “Definitely worn out, though.”

“Yeah, same.” He kisses the top of your head. “Mind if I crash here for a bit? I don’t mind leaving too, if it makes you uncomfortable. Just let me know.”

“No, you’re good. I don’t mind, San.”

“Was hoping you’d say that.” You chuckle, adjusting your position to comfortably lay on San and fall asleep on his chest.

This is when you start to regret ever giving San the attention, your number, everything. 

Because now that you know him a little more, San has become your kryptonite.

After that night, you woke up to an empty bedside— almost no signs of San entirely in your studio. Though it made your heart clench a little bit, part of you knew you wouldn’t be waking up to him.

For work, for other reasons.

Other reasons being that maybe, he really just did want you the one time. And the thought lingered for a little longer when he took awhile to text you that day, your mind running through all the worst possible scenarios during the hours.

▹ FLASHBACK

You slept like a baby after what felt like years, warmth of the sheets still engulfing you as your eyes flutter open. The sun leaves a trail down your sheets, everything quiet; still. When you turn, you find that San is gone— the dip on that side of the bed long gone, his clothes gone, waterbottle gone.

It was like he was never here in the first place.

Your clothes are set neatly off on the edge of the bed instead of the floor. And god, it feels kinda lonely without San. It’s your first telltale sign of attachment, though you know you shouldn’t be at that point after one intimate night with him.

But, it’s hard.

You check your phone and there aren’t any new texts besides Jongho and his need to send you random Instagram reels or TikToks. You lay in bed for a bit longer, letting out a soft sigh when you catch yourself wondering about San in that way. You shut your eyes for a little more, hoping you’ll be able to shake off the ‘what if’s’ with a couple of more hours of sleep. 

Meanwhile, San tiredly walks into the office a bit past 10am, hopping straight into his first meeting of the day. It lasts an hour before he’s finally able to walk to the kitchen to grab his first [and much needed] cup of coffee.

“What the fuck happened to you last night, Mr. Suave?” Wooyoung comes beside him, waiting to get his cup of coffee refilled.

“I walked Y/N home.” San smirks.

“Yeah, obviously.” Wooyoung slightly glares at him. “You’re not slick, dumbass. You fucked, didn’t you?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Wow, I’m your bestfriend and you’re asking me that question?” Wooyoung lets out a little ‘pfft’ before playfully shoving San aside to finally get his refill. “I’ll take that as a yes. What’s the deal with you and Miss Crimson, anyway?”

“I like seeing her.” San shrugs. “I like her company.”

“You barely know her outside of the strip club.”

“I believe that’s the point of getting to know her.” San says in a very matter-of-a-fact tone.

“Dude, I didn’t think you’d actually go for her.” San raises his brow.

“Why is everyone saying that? What’s so wrong about it?”

“Nothing! I really just thought you were trying toot it and boot it.”

“Hm.” All San can do is hum while he stirs the stirrer around in his cup. 

“But what about Noelle? You guys have that weird, toxic ex relationship thingy going on.” Wooyoung almost visibly shudders at the thought of their complicated relationship. So much back and forth, lying, getting in each other’s beds just to fulfill a need even though they don’t mean it for shit.

Yeah, toxic.

“Yeah, no. I’m done with that.”

“Mm, but you’ve said that before. You mean it? Like you’re actually over her because you genuinely like Y/N? Or, you’re done with it until you cave again?”

“I’m done with it.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Wooyoung takes a sip of his coffee. “I saw her texting you again.”

“I’m trying to tell her it’s done with.”

“Don’t see the urgency though, Mr. I-like-Y/N-and-I-enjoy-her-company. Out here breaking hearts in true Choi San fashion.” 

“Don’t say shit like that.” 

“Okay.” Wooyoung laughs, leaving him in the kitchen. San sighs to himself, a little tired, stressed even, about the whole Noelle situation. Truthfully, Wooyoung is right. Him and Noelle have too much history, too much baggage. Too much of that toxic shit. San is partially to blame because he does crawl back to her, he does cave pretty easily. And it’s not even because San wants to get back with her, no. He knows they can’t work out. All they do is bring out the worst in each other. 

But, Noelle is the only thing he’s known for awhile. She fills his void pretty well because it’s familiar territory. 

He’s done with it, though. He swears. He’s confused and not entirely sure where he sees this going right now, but you are intriguing. He sees you and his curiosity skyrockets. He wants to know more about you, and after last night, he feels like he can’t get enough of you. He wants more, and he’ll continue to show you that.

▹ END

“Yo.” Jongho’s eyes are barely peeking over the screen on the FaceTime call.

“What’s up?”

“What’re you doing?”

“Just hanging out. Eating some lunch.” You continue to poke at the salad you made. “How’s work?”

“Good, I guess. I’m grabbing some food right now from the shop down the street. How’s loverboy been?”

“Would you stop calling him that?”

“Well, what else is he, Y/N?” Jongho laughs a bit. 

“Not my loverboy.”

“Says you even though he drops by to bring you food and calls you nonstop.”

“He doesn’t call me nonstop.”

“Sorry, once a day.” He gives you a look. “Have you seen him lately?”

“No. He went to the club once last week. Said he’s been busy again with work. I feel like it’s something else, though.”

“Mmm.” Jongho hums. “You’re overthinking.”

“I’m not.”

“I can hear you from here. What is it?”

“He’s just been kinda weird lately.” 

“Distant?”

“Yeah. Maybe it is just work.”

“He’s probably just got way too much on his plate.”

“I shouldn’t even be thinking about it like this too much.” You finish up your salad. “It’s fine. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Mm, okay. Well. Are you doing your usual shift at the club later?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s it been? Wanna hang out tomorrow before your shift?” He slightly pushes the phone away after placing his order and paying at the cashier.

“It’s the same old.” You sigh. “I’m down for that though.”

“Okay. I’ll come get you.” 

“Jongho.”

“Yeah?”

“Seeing San makes me question myself. I don’t know if that’s good or not.”

“In what way?”

“I just feel ashamed. It makes me wanna look for a different job and leave the club.”

“Well, okay. Are you still happy at the club, or do you wanna do something else?”

“I’m happy but I feel like I could do better.”

“Because of San or because of you? Kinda important to differentiate. If you’re still happy but feel like you could do better for you, then great! But, if you wanna do better just to impress San and do it for him, then no.”

“I feel so stupid. I mean, he drops me off at home. We see each other from time to time–”

“Have sex with each other from time to time–”

“Jongho!”

“What?” He laughs.

“You’re in public!”

“So?! It’s natural human behavior. My god.” He laughs a bit more. “I’m not wrong though.”

“It’s so dumb. I don’t even know what this is. Probably not even something to be questioning my life like this.”

“Has San ever said anything to make you feel that way?”

“No. In fact, he’s supportive about everything and didn’t make me feel terrible about my past decisions.”

“Then you’re overthinking again.” He thanks the staff before grabbing his bag of food. “Y/N, what did I tell you? Just let things be. Don’t make any rash decisions or start assuming things if everything is fine.”

“But is everything fine?”

“It sounds like it to me. He seems like a nice guy. You might wanna have that conversation about what you two are later on if things really haven’t progressed yet, but otherwise, I truly think he’s a nice guy and he’s probably just busy.”

“Jongho–” Suddenly, a few knocks come to your door, throwing you off guard mid-call.

“Guess that’s my cue to go. Text me about tomorrow.”

“Alright.” You say right before ending the call. You set your bowl aside in the kitchen before looking through the peephole on the door. To your surprise [or not], San is standing there on his phone with a small bag in hand.

“Hey.” You say, as you let him in. He smiles, but San doesn’t respond right away with the same enthusiasm. Instead, he shifts his attention to the text that came through on his phone before tucking it away and smiling at you.

“Hey. Sorry.” He hands you a small bag. “I bring pastries.”

“Mm, more pastries.” You tease with a giggle. “Thanks. What brings you here?”

“Sorry, I meant to text you but I forgot. I just wanted to see you since I haven’t been able to for a bit.” He kisses you on the cheek before making his way to your couch.

“Work’s been crazy, hm?” He sighs and leans his head back.

“Uh, yeah. It has been. But, it’s finally the weekend and I can kick back for a bit.” His hand comes up to run your back while you dig through the pastries he bought. “Did you eat already?”

“Mm, yeah. I just made a small salad. I’m not too hungry. Was on the phone with Jongho for a bit.”

“I see. You should eat a little more before your shift.”

“I will.” You look at him. “Are you guys going to the club tonight?” He nods.

“Mingi said he needs it.” You chuckle.

“Do you need it, too?”

“Kinda, but I’m here with you already and I get you all to myself.”

“You do that at the club, too.” You tease.

“Can’t help it.” San quietly looks at you while his arm is loosely around your waist. You observe him for a bit, trying to see if you can read into him or find any obvious signs of what else has been stressing him lately. He’s the same, except more tired, not as talkative or playful like he usually is. Your gut tells you it’s something deeper than work and you’re not sure how you’ll figure him out.

“San.”

“Mhm?” 

“You sure it’s just been work stressing you out?” He leans forward to meet your gaze with a small smile.

“Yeah. I’m sorry I haven’t really been myself lately.”

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.”

“I missed you, though. I really missed you.” His finger is tracing soft circles against your hip. He dips forward to place a gentle kiss right below your earlobe, his soft, pink lips sending tingles down your spine. You shouldn’t be buckling this fast around San, but god, does he have you wrapped around his finger. He places a kiss at the corner of your lips and you instantly feel like jelly.

You missed him, too.

And you want him. Badly.

Before you know it, San is sitting up against the wall, watching you bounce on his dick like the good girl you are. He’s watching through hooded eyes; glued to the way your tits bounce, the way his cock slides in and out of you, the way you moan for him like all of this was made for you and you only.

“Fuck.” San groans, hands on your hips to guide you and slam you down onto his length. “You know how to ride me so well.” He watches as you begin to roll your hips against him, taking more control while riding him; it's pure ecstasy. Your moans, your movements, everything about it is just.. addicting. 

You have such a captivating presence, and San can't help but lose himself in you.

“Baby, if you keep working me like that, you’ll make me cum.” He moans, head resting back against the wall. Your hand rests on his neck, giving it a gentle squeeze as you feel yourself bubbling with pleasure. Your clit is rubbing against him deliciously, and you can’t help but sit back and ride him at a different angle. 

“Sannie.” You moan loudly. “Ohhhhshit.” Your words melt together when you suddenly feel yourself unraveling quicker than expected. “I’m cumming— fuck, fuck, fuck—“ You repeat like a mantra, hips working sloppily against him as you come undone; the sounds bouncing off the walls nothing short of pornographic.

“That’s my good girl.” San loves watching the way your face contorts in pleasure, the way you moan loudly, the way he could hear how wet you are. Once you’ve come down from your high, San wastes no time getting you on your fours— face down, ass up. He gives your ass a good knead, spitting onto your pussy before lining himself back up at your entrance. He pushes himself in and works at a steady rhythm, giving your ass a good smack. You let out another moan, tears pricking your lids at how sensitive you’re feeling right now. He’s fucking into you so good, your ass is clapping against him. “You look so good like this, baby. You like it when I fuck you like this, hm?” He gives your ass another smack, cheek red from the impact. “Does it feel good?”

“So good, San.” He moans loudly as he continues to piston into you.

“Your pussy was made for me.” He groans. “Whose is it, Y/N?”

“Y-yours.” You choke, cheek digging deep into the mattress. 

“Louder, babygirl. I can’t hear you.”

“Yours!”

“There you go.” He grunts, ass feeling numb from San fucking into you. The way he’s driving into you and hitting your spot at this angle feels so good, you feel the pleasure bubbling in your pit again. You raise yourself up a bit to rub at your clit, pushing your orgasm forward as San’s movements begin to get sloppy. “Shit, Y/N.”

“San, cum for me.” You egg him on as he begins to pant. Hearing him praise you and call your name pushes you over the edge once more, hands gripping at the sheets while you shudder from the second orgasm taking over. San quickly pulls out and unloads onto your ass, back.

“God.” He huffs as he gives himself one last pump and pants heavily. “So good for me. You okay, pretty girl?” His hand comes up your back, leaving a random trail of kisses along the way.

“Yeah.” You let out a breath.

“Let me clean you up. Don’t move.” He quickly runs to your bathroom to grab some wipes. “Gonna be kinda cold. I’m sorry.” He apologizes in advance before taking a wipe to your back.

“That feels kinda nice.” San chuckles, allowing you to lay back on your bed first before slipping in next to you post-cleanup.

“You feel nice.” You laugh, laying your head on his chest while he grabs his phone.

“So, what time are you guys heading to the club tonight?”

“I don’t know. Probably between 9-10pm?” 

“You know there’s an event tonight, right?”

“I heard.” San laughs. “Some male dancers are guesting at the club?”

“Yeah. They’ll be on the second stage, though.” San nods, a few texts coming into his phone. You can’t help but glaze over the previews, back to back texts coming in from a ‘Noelle.’ The messages aren’t too lengthy, but she is texting him quite a few times and the previews alone are enough to make your stomach twist and turn.

It’s making you anxious, and for some reason, your gut tells you this Noelle is significant to San. 

He’s not trying to pay attention to it right now though, and it’s probably just because he’s in your company post-sex. He briefly looks at the messages at the top, thumb coming up to swipe them away. 

“Is it just you guys?” You ask, wondering if San would open up to you otherwise.

“Uh, yeah. Pretty sure. Unless Mingi invites other people.”

“Mmm, okay.”

“I’m excited to see you on stage again.” He looks down at you with a smirk. 

“Yeah right.”

“Swear. Everyone knows I’m only there for you. It’s kinda nice to show it off.”

“Show what off?”

“That you’re mine.” He winks, making your heart melt into a puddle. You hate that San gives you these signals, but there hasn’t been much to it besides seeing each other occasionally outside of the club and fucking each other’s brains out. 

“Don’t say shit you don’t mean.”

“Who said I didn’t mean it?!” You shake your head and turn to your side, now going through your own phone. San gives you a kiss on the shoulders, hand coming up to rub your arm while he continues to plant random kisses at the nape of your neck, below your ear, jaw.

“Sannie, what are you doing?” You giggle, ticklish from the feeling of his lips against your skin.

“Kinda want you again.”

“Are you serious?” You turn to look at him and he smirks.

“Can’t help it. You drive me crazy.” His hand comes down to your thigh, giving it a squeeze. “Wanna keep taking care of you.”

“Do you, now?” You tease, letting San continue to kiss you; hand coming down and ghosting your clit. You decide to let San have you once more before he’s struggling to part from your lips, even as he’s about to head out the door. 

You blush watching him leave, excited to show off and see him tonight.

The night comes rather quickly because the club is incredibly packed with all sorts of people making their way in to see all of the dancers. You’re having to entertain on stage, deliver drinks and give a few private dances. It’s nothing beyond what you’re already used to doing, but the clientele is booming tonight and you’re constantly moving around all ends of the club.

It’s a little past 10pm when you catch wind of Mingi, Hongjoong, San and Wooyoung. And for a minute, your eyes light up. San immediately plops onto a chair, legs spread as he smirks. He gestures for you to come over with his finger and lightly taps his lap, making you giggle to yourself while you continue to perform a few tricks on the pole. 

“Gorgeous.” San eyes the high-cut bodysuit sitting on your body, showing off all your curves beautifully. 

“You made it.” You crouch down in front of him, hands trailing up his legs.

“Of course, why would I miss out some more?” He winks, stuffing a few bills in the slit of your bodysuit while you stand lean towards his ear. 

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“You?” You laugh.

“Cliché.”

“Kidding, baby.” He bites onto his bottom lip. “Can we get shots of whiskey?”

“All four of you?”

“Yes please, pretty lady.” Hongjoong smirks. “Bodysuit looks good on you.”

“Openly hitting on San’s woman is crazy.” Wooyoung laughs loudly.

“Just complimenting her.” 

“Yeah, keep it up.” San teases Hongjoong.

“Thank you. I’ll be back.” You smile at Hongjoong before stepping over to the bar to grab their shots. At this point, it feels like everything happens so quickly; the following moments, the rest of the night— all a blur. When you return to the four, they’ve added a few more to the group. And this time, it’s a group of 5 girls— one that is in a heated conversation with San off to the side. You slow your pace, watching as she clings around his waist, but he gently shoves her off and shakes his head. He heads back to his seat and she welcomes herself on his lap, ignoring everything that he had just done to her moments ago. San doesn’t seem entirely pleased being that he’s been trying to distance himself from her, but to no avail— you’ve already returned and he panics.

“Here.” You hand them their drinks, handing San’s last.

“Noelle, seriously. Can you please get off my lap?” Noelle. You can’t help but feel your heart fall to the pit of your stomach, though you’re trying your best to brush it off in the heat of the moment. 

“You’re such a killjoy.” She whines, sitting on the edge of the chair. 

“Thank you, love.” His look is unreadable when he reaches for his glass and so is yours. But, San knows you saw everything and he knows it all looks wrong. It, all of this, must seem so fucked up to you right now and he wishes he could just pull you aside to clear up the air.

“Thank you, Miss Crimson.” Mingi raises his shot glass to you.

“Is that the stripper San is into?” You overhear one of the girls ask, followed by a:

“He’s not serious, right? Her?” Noelle scoffs and you subtly roll your eyes, getting ready to head back to the bartender. You weren’t gonna let this girl get to you. Not today.

“Have a good night.” Is what you tell Wooyoung in passing, making him flash San a look shortly afterwards.

“Don’t think she’s too happy about Noelle being here.”

“I didn’t know they were actually coming either.” San glares at him, trying his best to shake off Noelle and continue to create some distance. He truthfully didn’t think Noelle and her friends were coming along. Mingi had briefly mentioned the event to them, sliding in a stupid joke about how much San loves coming solely because of you. She didn’t take it lightly, hence why she decided to come along even though their initial plan was to head to the regular club down the street. 

When San sees Noelle, he’s pretty irritated. The last time she was texting him, she was blowing up his phone about shit from the past and their relationship. Quite frankly, he no longer has energy to deal with her and he’s tired of the back and forth. He doesn’t wanna start any issues tonight since it seems too late to brush them off and he doesn’t wanna dampen the mood. He knows how clingy she gets and he knows how she can act when she feels him slowly slipping from her grip, especially if they’re together in person. The last thing San wanted to do was upset you, nor did he want you to think of him as an asshole who only wanted you for one thing. 

That was not his plan.

He knows you’re not happy and he knows he fucked up for even trying to brush this off, for hiding Noelle when he had no reason to.

“You aren’t actually into the stripper are you?” She questions San and he furrows his brows.

“It literally isn’t any of your business.”

“Wow, so you are? I came out tonight, hoping we could—”

“Oh god, enough of that shit. Not here.” Wooyoung sighs. “Let’s go enjoy ourselves, that’s the whole point of tonight, right?” Wooyoung tries to push his bestfriend to the main stage, leaving the girls to enjoy the men on the second stage. You’ve continued to deliver a few drinks around the other room before stepping back onto the main stage. In your peripherals, you can see San eyeing you; almost pleading for you to swing by his way.

Except, you don’t, and you start to entertain a few men on the other side of the stage. San feels his blood boil a little when he sees you giving your attention to another man, knowing full well you were doing this on purpose.

And you were. You weren’t exactly sorry about it.

Because you didn’t have time for this bullshit, and your job still needed to get done. At the end of the day, you are just a dancer. What more could you be to him? You temporarily feed into their fantasies, nothing more, nothing less.

The reality is hitting you more and more tonight.

It makes you feel stupid for having thought otherwise, for letting the possibility live longer than it should’ve.

You’re not sure if you have time to entertain someone who has all that baggage.

San comes around to see you in better view, watching as you crouch down with your legs cocked open; swiping two fingers across your tongue before running it over your [barely] clothed pussy. San clenches his jaw when the man in front of you leans forward with a huge smirk on his lips, holding a roll of bills in his hand.

“Uh oh.” Wooyoung instigates. “I told you so. In true Choi San fashion.”

“Stop that.” Wooyoung shrugs.

“Noelle’s here, hoping she could be the one to go home with you tonight. And that one—“ He points at you over his glass. “Thinks you’re toying with her emotions. Pick a fucking battle.”

“I already told you I was done with the whole Noelle thing. She doesn’t get it for whatever reason.” San slightly groans and clicks his teeth. “Why did Mingi invite them, anyway?”

“I don’t know? I can’t control that boy’s mouth. Besides, you know he’s been trying to get with Donna after those dates didn’t go well.” San sees you dip into a private booth with the guy, shutting the curtains closed without looking his way. He takes a sip of his drink, stepping closer to the stage to try and enjoy himself– ignoring the possibilities of what’s going on behind that curtain.

The club feels suffocating, and he wants out.

Especially when you seem to be taking your time in the booth.

“You wanna head out? Noelle and the girls wanna head down the street now. Said they’re bored of the guys already.” Mingi asks, pointing at the girls getting ready to head out to the next club down the street. 

“Already?” Hongjoong cocks a brow up. “We literally just got here.”

“Yeah, I guess they’re over it.”

“I mean, whatever. Just don’t ask me to leave the other club hella early.” Joong rolls his eyes. “Whose bright fucking idea was to invite them anyway?” He glares at Mingi.

“Sorry! I wanted to be nice and extend the invite. I didn’t think they’d be over it so quickly.”

“Right, you wanted to be nice and get into Donna’s pants.”

“Do you wanna stay back?” Wooyoung asks in San’s ear, but all San can do is shrug. “We don’t have to go with them.”

“Let’s just go, I’ll never hear the end of it if we stay back.” Wooyoung simply looks at him in return.

“Let’s go!” Mingi yells. San subtly looks back to try and see if you’re out of the booth, but Mingi is already shoving him towards the door– towards Noelle and her friends.

“Choi San, hurry up!” Noelle whines as she waits for him.

“Noelle, you don’t have to wait for me. You can go with your friends.”

“Why are you acting so mean tonight?” She tugs on his wrist, but he snatches it out of her grip. “It definitely can’t be about her, right?”

“Go have fun with your friends and I’ll worry about my own.” San doesn’t mean to sound like an asshole, but he’s truly tired of the back and forth between Noelle. He hates that she acts this way, and he hates that she’s here. He feels like the night has gone to waste because he won’t be able to fully enjoy himself.

On top of that, you’re livid with him.

Speaking of you— You’ve kept yourself close to the pole even though your client has asked you for a lap dance. Once, twice, maybe even thrice. He’s attractive, but your mind is glued to San and how terrible this night ended up playing out for you. Luckily, the client doesn’t seem to fight much against it; as long as he gets his fix of you somehow, he’ll take it. Tonight’s one of those nights where you’ll stay for the full 45 to get the extra money, to hide away from the rest of the crowd. 

One, two.

Twirl around the pole.

Three, four.

Invert and lean back.

Five, six.

Gently fall into the splits.

Seven, eight.

Bounce your ass on the stage. 

“You’re a fucking goddess.” He says, gently palming himself through his pants, forcing you to mask the disgust you feel watching him openly do that. Though, you’ve seen worse and you’ve trained yourself to have the thick skin needed in this industry. Right now, it hits differently. Because of San, because of Noelle.

Because of everything.

“You sure you can’t come down here and get on daddy’s lap? I think I’ve slipped you enough money to at least get a lapdance.”

“Sorry, not doing that tonight, love.” 

“Aw, why not? Not even for me?”

“Not for you. Or them.” You say, bending over to at least give him a peek of what he wants.

“You sure you’re not saving it all for someone else?”

“Nope.”

“Gonna have to come back on a better night then.” He bites his bottom lip. “You’re my favorite. I swear you drive me crazy.” The statement is enough to trigger San’s voice in your head, causing you to rush through the last bit of your pole dance before thanking the man for his time and tip.

When you step out of the booth, you no longer see San and his group and it instantly makes your heart clench. You didn’t know what to expect tonight, but you definitely didn’t expect San to leave so quickly with his friends—

With Noelle and her friends.

Now, you’re back to square one. You feel like a mere distraction, something that temporarily fills the void; nothing more, nothing less. You quickly head to the back to get some air and a moment to yourself, finding a few texts from San:

san: Y/N, i’m sorry. i didn’t know they were coming. mingi just invited them and didn’t really say anything about it.

san: i know you’re probably wondering about her and i can explain. it’s really not what it looks like. 

san: let me know when you’re off? i wanna take you home still. 

san: i wanna talk to you and see you. please.

You swallow the lump in your throat as you shut off the phone and ignore the texts. Even if you wanted to answer back, even if it fucking pains you to re-run through those texts, you keep your head up and throw on a brave face for the rest of your shift.

San is still your kryptonite, and you aren’t sure where to go from here.

You need to leave quickly enough to avoid running into San tonight. 

Guess you’d be taking your usual walk alone. 

You managed to dodge San and his friends on your way home that one awful night, ignoring his calls even as you’ve gotten comfy and tucked in your bed. San continued to blow up your phone into the next day until he realized you weren’t gonna answer him anytime soon.

And it sucked.

But, you needed to hold your ground. You needed to go back to the Y/N who worried about her own, the Y/N who didn’t let anything faze her even if she was hurt by loved ones, by friends.

You needed to go back to the Y/N who kept it real with herself and was proud of how far she’s come despite the ups and downs.

You hadn’t seen San come to the club, and it was probably his way of giving you the space that you indirectly asked for. And indeed, you needed this.

You needed to go back to the old Y/N and reprioritize.

“Hey baby.” Mia says, hand on the small of your back as you dab a bit of lip gloss onto your lips.

“Hey.”

“How’re you doing?” She brushes your hair back and gives you a small, sympathetic smile.

“I’ve seen better days.” You let out a chuckle.

“You haven’t texted him back?” You shake your head.

“No. I don’t really know what to say. I just feel kinda dumb. Maybe we were just meant to be a thing in passing.”

“Don’t say that. I know he had some feelings for you, and I know the situation was unique. But, nobody would go through all that effort if it didn’t matter to them.”

“Mm, yeah, He just has some baggage he has to deal with and I don’t think I have time or energy for that.”

“For all you know, it could just be her.”

“But, why hasn’t he officially let her go then?” Mia pouts a bit.

“I think he’s over it. He didn’t seem all that interested in her at all.” She nods. “Talk to him, hun. Let him explain. It might just be a misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She gives you a reassuring smile.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“I know, babe. Thanks.” You give her a toothless smile, letting out a small squeal when she slaps your ass.

“Now get out there and do your thing, the clients are waiting.” You chuckle and shake your head, taking one last look in the mirror before you head out to the main stage. You strut your way across the floor, doing your usual sweet talk with a few of the men lining the stage. You take the stage for a bit and do your usual routine, letting them slip their bills wherever they can under your gear, or shower the stage with a few more extra tips. Just as you were getting into the swing of things, you catch San walking in by himself. You almost lose track of your thoughts, distracted by how good he looks. He’s sporting simple slacks and a gray-striped button up with chelsea boots, rolex on his wrist. He looks around the club before his eyes land on yours, and you suddenly feel like you’ve lost the ability to move, to dance.

▹ FLASHBACK

“I’ve never seen you this sulky. It’s kinda annoying.” Wooyoung plops next to San on the couch, watching as he slouches and lazily texts back on his phone.

“Fuck off.”

“I’m assuming she’s not answering your texts or calls yet?”

“Nope.”

“Down bad.”

“Are you here to help or to get on my nerve?” San glares at his bestfriend.

“Why don’t you just go see her?”

“I don’t wanna cross boundaries and be in her space, especially if she’s already not answering my texts or calls.”

“Maybe this is what she needs, though. She’s probably still assuming shit about Noelle. Which, by the way, I hope you ended it. For real.”

“I did. That’s why she was hella upset during the last half of the club and I left.”

“I thought you left to go after Y/N. Where exactly did you go?” 

“I mean, partially. I was gonna go after her and bring her home, but I was too late. The other half of me was pissed off because Noelle kept crying and trying to gaslight me. I told her I didn’t wanna do this anymore. Was tired of it. I told her we just don’t work and it’s time for us to move on.”

“‘Bout time you realized.” Wooyoung rolls his eyes. “I know you have love for her and I know she meant a lot to you, but that girl is crazy. You continued to feed into it, too.”

“Yeah, well.” 

“Just go see Y/N, dude. You look terrible.” San flips him off. “I mean it. If you want shit to change, then keep taking initiative.”

“I just don’t wanna scare her off. I already fucked up enough with this whole Noelle thing.”

“Damn, what did Y/N do to you?” Wooyoung laughs. “I truly didn’t think you’d end up finding your boo thing at the strip club. I’d like another thank you if this all goes well.” He smirks. “Thank you Wooyoung for making us go to the club on my birthday.” He says in a sing-song tone.

“Yeah, yeah.” San sighs. “I’ll probably head to the club tonight and try to talk to her.”

“Want me to come? Moral support.” He shakes his head.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll be good.”

▹ END

You quickly head off the stage and head to the bar, switching gears to take a break from the stage. You scurry along, hoping you aren’t making it too obvious that you’re trying to deflect and avoid San yet again. 

But, he knows. 

“Y/N, hey. Wait.” San says as you brush past him, hand gently coming to your wrist. You wiggle out of his grip, giving him a look as you continue on to the next room. “Y/N.” He continues to call, hurriedly following after you. “Y/N, please.” He says as he comes to your side while you gather a few drinks onto your tray.

“San, what? I’m working.” You respond, still keeping your attention to the drinks.

“Why haven’t you been answering my texts or calls?”

“Because.”

“Because, what? I didn’t mean to leave early without saying anything to you that night. I wanted to come back and take you home.”

“Oh, but Noelle didn’t let you, right?” 

“Y/N, please don’t do that. That’s not even what happened—” San has his hand around your wrist again, his eyes pleading for you to hear him out. 

“Aye, come on, my guy.” An unfamiliar man from the crowd comes in between you and San, ripping his hand away from your wrist. “Care to share? Stop being so selfish and gatekeeping her—”

“The fuck are you?”

“I see you come into this club with your friends, acting all high and mighty. You heard what I said.” He steps closer towards San. “Stop being so fucking selfish with her, hm? She’s for the crowd, baby’s meant to be shared—” The man suddenly slaps your ass and it turns a switch on for San. San pushes him away, causing the other man to lose his footing before attempting to swing at him.

“Stop that!” You try to yell, hoping it’d somehow break them apart. San is quick to dodge the first swing, but he gets unlucky with the second. San is quick to regain his composure, throwing a punch to him and causing him to fall to the ground. He towers over him and continues to lay a few more punches while you yell at security for assistance. “Quit it! San, stop! Stop it!” You repeat, prying him off of the man on the floor. “San!” You grip his bicep and pull him back.

“Fucking idiot.” San spits, hand coming to his jaw to ease the soreness. 

“Get them out of here!” You tell security and San furrows his brows at you.

“Y/N—”

“Out. Now!” You repeat yourself, following after security as they get their hands on both San and the other guy, escorting them out of the club. One shoves the other man through the front entrance, while the other shoves San out of the side entrance. You’re already following behind, signaling for security that it’s okay for him to leave you alone with San. He gives you a curt nod as he walks around the corner— giving you enough distance that allows privacy, but also allows him to step in if necessary. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I wasn’t gonna let him talk about you like that, Y/N. Don’t ask me that fucking question.”

“It’s my job.” You remind him. “I meant what are you doing here?! Why did you come here, San?”

“I came here to talk to you!” His tone raises. “You aren’t answering my texts or calls, and all I wanna do is make this right. What do you expect me to do?”

“Let it go.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because, San. What is it to you, anyway?”

“Are you serious?” He sighs, running his hand through his hair. “If you would just give me one second to talk to you—“ He pauses and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Y/N. All I want to do is talk to you and explain. I don’t wanna leave things like this.” He lowers his voice and steps closer to you.

“Then talk.” You cross your arms and shift your weight from one foot to another.

“Y/N, me and Noelle are done with. We’ve been done with for awhile. She’s my ex and we’ve gone through some shit but it’s over with.” He lets out a breath, the air cold and crisp against your skin. “Mingi invited them that night, and I just didn’t wanna cause any issues between us and ruin the night. She threw herself on me and I had been asking her to stop. I didn’t ask her to do that, nor did I want to entertain it. I shouldn’t have left with them though, I knew how that would look, too. I’m sorry. I promise you it meant nothing. I even told Noelle she needed to move on that night. I came back to the club, but you had already left.”

“San.” You shake your head. “Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why me?”

“Y/N, I really do like you.”

“But, that’s the problem. You don’t even see the issue with this.”

“What issue?!

“Us! That’s the fucking issue, San! We come from such different lives, does that not bother you? We’ll never be on the same page, we’ll never work.” San furrows his brows, trying his hardest to take the blow even though it hurts to.

“Why would you say it like that? I don’t care about how different our lives are. That doesn’t matter to me–”

“It does to me!”

“Why?! I don’t care what people think and so shouldn’t you! Wouldn’t we be enough?”

“It’s so easy for you to say because you don’t know what it’s like to be on my side of things.”

“Then, let me know!” San raises his voice before running his hand through his hair. “Y/N, I would never take advantage of you. Never in my mind did I ever think of you that way. Why won’t you let me be here for you?”

“Because San, you had me thinking I was stupid. I felt like you were here for one thing, and it made me question everything about myself, my life. I hated feeling that way. I even compared myself to Noelle at one point.”

“She’s nothing to me! I’m sorry for having hid that from you, but I didn’t think much of it at the time since the whole thing caught me off guard. She means nothing to me, and we’re done with. I’m sorry.” For some reason, you are torn. You want to believe San, and there is a small part of you that does. However, you still can’t get over the fact that he still kept her close for lord knows how long. What if he was balancing you both at the same time? How could you know he was for sure over her and that this wasn’t just a phase?

“What if this is just a phase to you, huh? What happens when you realize how much we don’t work? That we’re just too different? That maybe she or someone else is a better fit for you all along.” Your bottom lip trembles and even though you try to hide it, San catches on. “This is my life, and it won’t change for awhile.”

“Stop putting words in my mouth and choosing how I should feel. That’s not how this works. I caught feelings for you, Y/N. Genuinely. None of our differences mattered to me, and it won’t ever. I’m sorry you felt that way and that was never my intention.” San says calmly, but god, is he terrified right now. He is anxious. Nervous. Scared. And as much as you wanna cave, you remember you are outside of the club in the freezing cold.

Arguing with San.

“San, you know what? This is enough.”

“Y/N.” He pleads through his tone.

“Please just go home.” You point at the side door before nervously rubbing at your sides. “We should talk about this another time. Not here.”

“O-okay, so are you gonna answer my texts or calls then?”

“I’ll text you, okay?” You look at him with some remorse. Right now, you don’t think you’re ready to talk to him and you probably need to sort out your thoughts before the next time. Or else, you’ll continue to try blaming him, the situation. You’ll continue to deflect, you’ll continue to let San’s words brush over your head because you aren’t used to this genuine attention— these genuine feelings, genuine intentions.

San doesn’t say anything else, but his expression makes your heart break more. You let out a sigh before turning on your heel to get back into the club and finish your shift. As soon as the door shuts and acts as a barrier between you two, a few tears escape your lids. You quickly brush them away and shake off the feelings, storming out onto the main stage to finish your night strongly.

You need Jongho.

“This fucking sucks.” You tuck your knees to your chest as Jongho sighs and pours you another shot of tequila.

“Why don’t you text him, Y/N? Just talk to him.”

“I’m kinda scared. And nervous.” You take the shot with him.

“Why? He’s literally waiting for you to text him. You’ve just been big sad over him too, don’t you think that’s a sign?”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“Oh, I don’t know, ‘hey, can we talk?’ maybe?” Jongho gives you a look before shaking his head. “I love you, but dude. Get it together. You should just talk to him and stop putting yourself through this. You obviously like the guy and he feels the same way. The whole thing with his ex was just a misunderstanding, too. What exactly are you trying to put off?”

“I think I’m just scared. You know how it was with my ex. He wasn’t nice and also made me feel ridiculously stupid and incompetent for my decisions. Even after the break up.”

“Yeah, but he’s your ex for a reason. San is not the same person.” Jongho pours you another shot. “I understand you’re scared. But, you can’t shield yourself off from everything forever. I truly think he’s a genuinely nice guy.”

“Plus, I worry about him too. How would his friends feel about us being serious? His family, his sister?” 

“I’m sure it’ll all be fine. San isn’t even worried about that, nor does he seem to care. It doesn’t matter where you come from. They should be able to see what kind of person you are and the heart you have.” 

“Mm, yeah. I just worry too much. I don’t want my life to bleed into his and ruin the shit he’s built for himself.”

“It won’t. Jeez, you aren’t a criminal Y/N. You’re great at everything you do and you’re incredibly talented. You have a lot of qualities that could take you far.” There’s another pause, enough for you and Jongho to take the last shot to the neck before you pull out your phone and click on San’s text thread.

“Fuck it.”

“Exactly.” He sips on some soda to wash down the tequila burn. “By the way, I’m never talking about you that way again.” Jongho visibly shudders, making you playfully hit him on the shoulder. 

you: hi, sorry for the random text. can we talk?

You toss your phone aside and dig your face into your hands, nervous about the text back. Granted, it’s only been close to a week and a half after the whole thing went down at the club. Time moves so fast that part of you felt terrible for making San wait in general. But, it should be a testimony to how he truly feels about you.

“What if he’s over it?” You groan into your hands.

“Then at least you know, right? You can close that chapter and move on.” Jongho takes a bite of his chicken. “Highly doubt it though.” At this point, the phone dings behind Jongho and he’s quick to grab it for you— flashing you San’s name on the screen.

“Fuck.” You whine.

san: hey. don’t apologize. of course we can. should i swing by your place soon?

“I’ll drop you off in a bit.”

“Are you sure you’re good? I can ask him to pick me up.”

“Actually, yeah. Ask him.” You chuckle as Jongho pours another shot for himself.

you: yeah, but i’m at jongho’s. do you think you can pick me up?

san: yeah i can, love. just send me the address.

“He always gets so sweet. I can’t do this.” You send San Jongho’s address.

“Yes you can!” Jongho responds. “Here, drink.” He pushes your water glass towards you. “So you don’t feel like shit later.”

san: on my way. 20 mins.

“Thanks for the food and drinks. For letting me be a crybaby. You know, the whole nine.” Jongho chuckles and nudges you on the arm.

“I got you, dude. You’re my bestfriend. I won’t let you go through these things alone.” 

“I guess I’ll keep you updated?”

“Take your time. And just be honest with him, alright? Be straight up about how you feel with everything.”

“I will.” 

When San arrives a bit after 20 minutes, you grab your things and bid your bestfriend farewell. You feel nervous, palms sweating the more you fiddle with your fingers and head down the steps to San’s car. Once you catch wind of him, you pause in your steps just to give yourself a tiny breather before committing and approaching his passenger door. He’s in a black shirt and sweats, glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. 

“Hey.” You say as you climb in, San giving you a small smile.

“Hey. You good to go?” You buckle your seatbelt and nod, allowing San to drive off to your studio. “Did you work at the shop today?”

“Mhm, I worked an earlier shift to get off at the same time as Jongho.”

“You guys just hung out?”

“Yep. Drank, ate some food. Talked about some things.”

“Some things?”

“You.” You give him a look and he nods.

“Fair enough.”

“What have you been up to?”

“Work. I’ve been working from home lately since there isn’t much requiring me to come into the office.”

“Been busy?”

“Yup, but I’ve seen worse days.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” He lets out a small chuckle as he continues to drive on. The rest of the drive to your place is quiet, but nothing feels weird or awkward. It’s surprisingly a comfortable silence and it’s probably due to the fact that you two have missed each other even though you’re both still trying to gather your thoughts.

When he pulls up into a spot on the street, San shuts off the car and immediately runs to your side to help you out. He follows behind as you lead the way, quietly unlocking your door and tossing the keys off to the side. San sits on your couch and lets out a sigh, watching as you plop next to him after grabbing some water.

“Want anything else to drink?”

“I’m okay.” He gives you a small smile. You turn to face him, a leg tucked under the other that’s swung over the edge of the couch.

“Thanks for picking me up.”

“Of course.”

“Can we talk about what’s been happening? I just really need you to be honest with me, that’s all I ask.”

“I’ll always be honest with you, Y/N. It was never my intention to make it seem otherwise.”

“Well, after everything, I did feel pretty stupid. You knew I was already doubting myself after I lost my family and friends because of my decisions. For a second, I felt like you tricked me and that I was stupid not to realize you only wanted me for one thing.” San shakes his head, but he continues to let you talk. “I started questioning myself more and I hated the feeling. I knew I couldn’t be enough for you, or that I was completely different from girls in your past. And it felt terrible. I couldn’t help but jump to conclusions that night because who am I compared to her? I’m living such a different life and I honestly wouldn’t blame you if you realized that.” You shrug. “Anyway, I felt shitty because I genuinely had feelings for you even though I was scared. I still am, especially because I don’t know if this is just a phase or what.” You feel the tears pricking your bottom lids again but you do your best to prevent San from catching on. You look down at your hands, fiddling with your sweater sleeves. You feel San shift closer to you, his hand coming up to your cheek.

“Can you look at me please?” Your eyes shift back up to him, and you feel the butterflies in your stomach the moment you two lock eyes. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He says softly, his thumb caressing your cheek. “I really didn’t mean to. That whole thing Noelle—” He sighs. “I’m not gonna lie, it’s been a ride with her. But meeting you and getting to know you made me realize how much I didn’t wanna be stuck in that anymore. It made me realize how much I craved normalcy with someone, something that doesn’t have to be so sad and toxic all the damn time.” He lets out a breath. “I know it sounds dumb that it took me all of this to realize, but I mean it. You make me feel things I haven’t felt in such a long time. It feels good.” He does a subtle nod. “I feel happy and good around you.”

“San, you just scare me.” A few tears stream down your cheeks and San is the first to catch them; gently wiping it away while he keeps his eyes locked onto yours. “Our lives are so different, I can’t help but worry about how this is gonna make things turn out in the future. Your family, your friends—”

“My friends are fine, they know how I feel about you. And my family knows they can’t dictate everything about my life. You—” He pauses. “Y/N, you aren’t any different just because of what you do. What matters is the kind of person you are, how you genuinely make me feel. None of that matters.”

“You know it isn’t gonna be that easy.”

“So be it. I know you’re scared, but I’m with you on this.” He runs his other thumb across your lip. “We can figure this out, okay? We can take this slow and figure it out together. I’ll stop heading to the club with the guys and be there for you in many other ways. Just know that I’m gonna support you no matter what, I’m not like everyone else. Fuck all of them.” He gives you a small, reassuring smile. “I’m sorry.” He repeats. You can’t help but lean into his hand and let out a shaky breath, kissing the palm of his hand before returning your gaze on him. His smile grows, making him plant an eager kiss on your forehead, to the tip of your nose.

Lips.

“Are we okay?” He whispers against your lips and you nod. “Can I have you then?” He whispers against your lips in between another kiss. “Make it up to you?” Another kiss. “Show you how I really feel?” You nod, giving San leverage to scoop you into his arms and carry you to your bed. He gently lays you down and is quick to shed off your clothes, admiring every inch of you. San tosses his glasses onto your nightstand before placing random trails of kisses along your body, kissing every scar, every curve, every tattoo; everything about you still continues to drive him crazy. Today, San takes his time. Though he’s eager to show you how you make him feel, he decides he’s gonna take his time with you. 

Even when he laps at your pussy, your clit, making you cum within minutes of being positioned in between your thighs.

Even when he rocks his hips into you— it’s a slow and steady pace, enough to make you feel every inch of him.

Even when he sits back onto his knees, letting you ride him.

His hands run up your sides while your hands are tangled in his hair, rolling your hips against him steadily, slowly, letting him feel every inch of you. He moans against your neck before placing wet kisses on the surface, hands now gripping tighter as he feels himself nearing his high. Everything is so intimate, so raw, so close— San can’t keep his lips off of you and hearing your moans bounce off of the walls adds to the pleasure. Your clit is rubbing deliciously against him, causing you to bite onto his bottom lip before tilting your head back in pleasure.

“Gonna cum, baby.” He groans in between open-mouthed kisses. “Be my good girl and cum with me.” You furrow your brows in pleasure, hands gripping his jaw as you continue to deeply kiss him, your climax heightening at your gut.

“Sannie.” You whine, unable to form any thoughts.

“You know how to fuck me so well. You’re perfect.” He hisses, the pleasure almost feeling too intense with how much he’s having to hold back. You start to rock your hips at a messier pace when you feel yourself climbing, moan loudly and gripping the ends of San’s hair when you finally come undone. He almost whines when he feels you twitch against him, hissing at how good you feel wrapped around him. San quickly lays you back and pounds into you, releasing his seed and painting your walls white. 

The both of you stay stationary for a second, panting and regulating your breathing once you’ve come back down from cloud nine. San brushes the hair away from your face and adoringly looks into your eyes, placing a kiss on your lips before slowly sliding himself out of you.

“Let’s get cleaned up.” He jogs over to your bathroom and turns on the shower, waiting for the water to reach a perfect temperature before grabbing you. 

While in the shower, San makes sure to lather your body with soap, giving your back and shoulders a good massage before rinsing off. You follow suit, giggling when you plop a few bubbles on his nose and cheeks. The best thing about the shower is that San doesn’t pressure you for more, no. He showers you with kisses, surely showing you just exactly what you mean to him through the action alone.

After the shower, you climb into bed with San, letting him take you into his arms while you turn on some music to softly fill the background. He gently strokes your hair, and hums along, keeping you close in his warm embrace.

“San.”

“Yeah?”

“You know what I want to do in the future?”

“What’s that?”

“I wanna own my own dance studio and teach. Help people grow their confidence and embrace their sexiness.” San chuckles. “You know? People get shy about these things or hide because they feel like they can’t dance or be sexy.”

“You’d be an amazing teacher for that.” You giggle.

“Hopefully one day.”

“We’ll make it happen. No matter how long it takes, hm?” He hums. “I got you.” You look up at San and stare at the galaxies he holds in those beautiful, brown orbs. What you did to deserve someone like San, you’ll never know— but you’ll take it as a gift from the universe; a gift that shows how proud the universe is of you for never giving up and for staying true to yourself.

For once, everything feels right. Everything seems to be where it should be. Everything in your life, as it is now, is what’s meant to be. And out of all the changes the universe has brought you, you’re at least thankful for this; for that moment San walked into the club, for the moment you took the first leap.

“You got me?” You tease and he nods.

“I got you.”

▹ taglist: @itsvxlentine @vantediary @certifiedmoa @asjkdk @bintificreads @frobin4ever @persphonesorchid

[jaehaeryshater]

In 60 AC, the first egg of the latest clutch laid by Vhagar hatched. At the age of 112, Vhagar was already a seasoned mother. Vhagar was an adequate mother by all accounts, but up until then, a hands off and tough love type. She made no fuss until Caraxes hatched from his egg. Born with a birth defect, he at first had a hard time flying or even walking. Vhagar was extremely attentive, always nuzzling and “talking” to him, making sure he was alright. Caraxes, always the performer, soaked up the attention of his mother. He always yipped at her and followed her around, none the wiser of her concern or his defect.

beautiful commission by the lovely @moonwyvern

I haven’t shared my dragon family tree on here yet, but I firmly set Caraxes as the offspring of Balerion and Vhagar. This is for a few reasons; first off, they are one of only two canon mated pairs at this time. Second, I believe the theory that Caraxes’s neck is not due to genetics but rather a congenital mutation caused by environmental factors picked up in Valyria by Balerion. Not sure how that would work exactly, but it’s a cool theory. All that to say, it definitely is a punch to the gut that Caraxes and Vhagar were made to kill each other. There was a time, in my opinion, that Vhagar felt instinctual “love” for her hatchling, and I wanted to show that. We also usually see Vhagar as blood thirsty and a war dragon, and she is, but my goal was to represent that she’s just an animal at the end of the day, and to show a softer side of her in more peaceful times (also the idea that dragon naturally have a bond with their offspring, and how tragic it is that human beings severed those ties because they thought themselves above nature and more qualified to take care of the babies themselves). I also have an upcoming commission of Vhagar and her mate Balerion with hatchlings even earlier on in the timeline, so watch out for that. Vhagar has a special place in my heart, and I’m always here for more content.

Also, Vhagar was riderless at this time; if Visenya had taken away Caraxes it would have been easy, but I imagine when Jaehaerys proclaimed that they must take Caraxes away from her, she screamed and squalled and bit off the dragonkeeper’s hand and burned two others. I reckon the dragonkeepers always had a hard time taking babies away from their mothers, but an especially hard time in this case (pls pls somebody talk to me in my inbox if you want to talk dragonposting, I’m itching to talk about it).

Thank you so much to moonwyvern, they really brought my idea to life and their prices were extremely reasonable given the quality that I received. They were also very accommodating to feedback, and pleasant to work with. I am in awe of how they were able to portray exactly what I was going for. Vhagar usually looks mean or stern in artworks, but here she is curious and perhaps a little concerned, but mostly amused with her little one. Honestly, I’d recommend anybody looking for a dragon commission to go to this artist because they were great to work with and are quite versatile within their niche.

Bonus because the artist wanted to experiment with the dragonpit in the day versus night and the shadows that come with that

[targaryen-dynasty]

hi bestie💕

from the 2k celebration serving list, i choose meleys! (this feels like i’m choosing a pokemon for a battle 😂)

prompt #112 “i don’t feel like sleeping” with aegon ii

🎉congratulations on reaching 2k!!!!!🎉

REDAMANCY.

Aegon II Targaryen x female Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; slightly dubious content, p in v, breeding kink

WORDS: 741

NOTES: The first time I managed to keep myself short, lmfao. Hope you like it!

It has to be way past the Hour of the Owl when you feel Aegon’s hands slowly drag over your side, his hot breath caressing the back of your neck. 

Your back is facing him, and you’re lying exactly like you did when you fell asleep – with him tightly pressed against your backside. The only difference now is that you’re feeling something very firm pressing against your arse. 

Stirring slowly, you’re releasing a deep sigh, and goosebumps follow in his hand’s wake as it pushes the skirts of your nightdress further up your legs. Despite the sheets still concealing your frame, you suddenly feel well exposed, and he hasn’t even peeled off your underclothes. 

“Go back to sleep,” you’re murmuring, voice thick with sleep. 

You can feel his nose drag along your hair, inhaling your scent, and it inevitably has you clenching your thighs together, more so when his lips settle at the curve of your shoulder. He has pushed the neckline of your nightgown to the side slightly, and an unbearable heat blossoms where his lips have met your skin before. 

His teasing, barely there touches push all the tiredness aside, and the raspy drawl in his voice ignites a fire within you. 

“I don’t feel like sleeping.”

It’s his body against yours, his scent wafting off of him, and his hand slowly inching between your legs that drive you to full consciousness. Heat starts to ignite at the apex of your legs as your mind wanders from the calmness of your sleep to your insatiable husband. 

You bite your bottom lip, trying to stifle a quiet moan. “But what if I do?”

Your husband is quick to roll you on your back, making himself at home between your legs. The display of his fervor has you chuckling. 

As he’s propped up on his arms, silver strands of hair fall into his face, framing his chiseled features. He stares down at you with a mischievous glint in his lilac eyes, and you know it means he’s up to no good. 

Dipping his head forwards, Aegon’s lips make a beeline for your neck, nibbling and sucking on your skin to the point you crane your neck to grant him more access. You care little for what the court thinks of the little bruises he leaves, and rather take pride in his display of possessiveness, in his claim on you.

“Then I would see it as my husbandly duty to convince you otherwise,” his gruff voice vibrates against your skin, slightly muffled but still perfectly clear. 

“Oh?” you whisper, turning your head to look at him and giggling softly. 

“I’m confident of my ability to convince you,” he rasps, and you’re met with a wide grin, one that all but forces you to kiss him to get it off his face. 

It’s all teeth and tongue when Aegon’s hands slowly claw at your nightgown, pushing it up to make quick work of your underclothes. You help him get you out of it, and only then notice that he’s indeed already completely bare. 

While this isn’t new to you, you still hold your breath as he sheathes himself inside you, meeting little resistance with your cunt completely soaked and filling you with one, swift thrust of his hips.  

You both moan in unison, and the pace your husband sets is quite different from the one he usually picks. Instead of thrusting and thrusting, he is rutting into you, causing the coarse, silver hairs that gather around the base of his cock to rub your pearl with every motion. 

Slinging your legs around his waist, you’re making it no easier for him to change his movements, signaling that this is exactly what you need. 

“Tonight is the night I shall put a babe in you,“ he grunts against your kiss-swollen lips. 

His earlier urgency has seemed to be not more than a mask for his despair, because as your peak washes over you in an ambush, his own follows not long after. 

But only when his hips don't falter, and his movements turn more calculated and determined, biting through the overstimulation, do you know that a long, exhausting night lies ahead of you. 

One where he won‘t stop until his hunger is satiated by filling you with as much of his seed as possible to make sure it will bear fruit, to make sure you‘ll give him the heir they‘ll anticipate sooner than later. 

Small Taglist: @heimtathurs @valeskafics @black-dread @watercolorskyy @darylandbethfanforever9 @hypocritic-trash-baby @connorsui @moonlightfoxx @snowystark @fan-goddess @lovelykhaleesiii

[thatonewatching]

John Doe headcanons

⬆️ That fella up there

(Canon: Bisexual, Fluid-Nonbinary, 20-40, 'Regular Guy' is his species, always messy hair, hair can move on its own, pupils expand when excited, tongue is a cute heart shape, too many teeth, his teeth aren't dirty, just naturally yellow, scars aren't because he's 'sad', doesn't know how to wear his jacket right, 112 pounds, 4 fingers on each hand, three toes on each foot, 5'8, tongue is very long, naturally black nails, shirt changes every time you look at him, has eyelids and chooses when he blinks, body has a clay-like texture, he doesn't have any organs but can for them if he or you chooses, and he has a hard time closing his, mouth fully.) All of that is canon, and I'm referencing the canon ref sheet from the actual creator of the game. You can find it on the John Doe Wiki. <3

He can't seem to get the hang of technology. No matter how many times you explain what to press and click and download, he didn't seem to be interested. Not until he found out that he could contact you through it, that is.

He immediately tried to understand it after finding out he could talk to you while you were away, instead of following you to work. That's not going to stop anytime soon, though. He just can't handle you being away!

Purrs, kind of. Like if he's happy or something, or just feels positive in general. Curls up when he sleeps, always in the fetal position when he sleeps, as weird and uncomfortable as it may seem.

He likes animals but won't get any because he feelsit'll take some attention off of him, and we can't have that, can we? No. Prefers animals like rats and snakes because they fascinate him. Doesn't understand their 'workings' as he says.

Doesn't need to blink. He doesn't have the need to wet his eyes, considering that they're for show. Sleeping, as well. Doesn't feel the need to sleep, but he learned how, in his own way. It's not sleeping, exactly. It's more of a state of tranquility and peace. The first time you fell asleep, he thought you died, never having seen a being sleep. He understands now, though, so it's all right.

His hair is very weird. Sometimes it's soft, fluffy, and sometimes stiff and matted. He sheds a lot. It doesn't matter what he's done or is doing, his hair gets everywhere. He's not allowed near the food when you're cooking, because you don't want hair for dinner. He says it adds flavor, seeing it as a way to be closer to one another.

Likes piercings. He enjoys the thought of having needles go through his skin to add element to his body, but not vice versa. Refuses to think about you getting hurt, even if you assure him it's fine. Will not allow anyone, including yourself, to hurt you.

Likes fire. It makes his clay-like skin hardened, rather than how doughy it usually feels. Unlike fire, he hates water. Makes him all gooey and slimy, and he doesn't like that. Wants to feel solid-it's better for hugs.

Speaking of hugs, he is practically attached at the hip. Always has some part of him on you and vice versa. Whether it be holding hands, a finger through your belt loop, or just a hand in your back pocket, he's content. If physical touch isn't your thing, then he'll tell you how much he adores you. You don't like words of affirmation? No problem! He'll do anything you need him to! Feel bad for him doing so much? Spend some time together! Whether it be watching a movie, cuddling, cooking (even though he sheds and doesn't know how to cook in the slightest), or even just being around each other, doing your own things. Need your space? Don't have to tell him twice! He'll get you some gifts. You said you wanted something three years ago? Done. Any physical item or thing he can provide to you will be provided. Long story short, he'll do whatever you want.

Wears a lot of different types of clothes. Skirts, pants, crop tops, shorts, whatever. One thing he doesn't love is jeans. He'll wear them, but he prefers sweats or skirts. Can't deal with the feeling of scratchy clothes. Will literally chew them up and throw them away. Speaking of clothes, he steals yours. Especially if they're dirty or need to be washed. Wears them until you take them for the wash. Gets sad when you take them.

His voice cracks occasionally, and he gets so upset about it. Will take a deep 'breath', or the closest thing he does to breathing, and says the sentence again. He doesn't like when it happens and stops talking until you force him if it happens a lot that day.

The first time that you told him you loved him, he wanted to cry, even though he can't and doesn't fully understand why people do it in the first place. "Why are you crying?" he asked, squinting. "Because you're suffocating me!" you wheezed. "Oh."

He uses his one-eyed form at home, knowing you understand it's easier and more comfortable. He really doesn't understand how to read all that well, so you taught him. He got the hang of it quickly and likes to leave you notes and texts. He constantly has tabs on you. Whether it be him coming into your job to walk around and talk to you, or him being in his hair ball form and in your shoulder or bag or something. Always around you. Always watching. Always comes back. (I'm so sorry.)

Calls you things like my love, dear, my dearest, sweetheart, gorgeous, beautiful, and things like that. Loves, loves, loves when you call him pretty boy/girl. Practically melts in your arms. They also love when you call them sweet things and mumble sweet nothings in her ear while you're together, especially when you're cuddling. Adores it when you run your fingers through her hair, and a soft purring emanates from him.

It may or may not wrap around your hand when you try to pull away....

That's all for now, guys! I'll be making more of these if I think of them. Requests and asks are open, so feel free to do that! (I'm so bored.) Stay safe, hydrated, and happy! Love you all! <3

[snixkers]

Unsend

Fluff

Pairing: Spencer Reid × GN!Reader

For: Inpso from this post

Content Warnings: Mentions of mental health facilities

Summary: Diana gets a little confused when meeting her sons partner.

Author's Note: Rahhh, we're so back. One more request to finish, and then I'll be on top of everything. (Peep the Glee GIF)

Feedback is always welcome

Requests are OPEN!

You glanced at him as he nervously adjusted his bag, looking up at the sign outside the facility where his mom stayed.

“If you want to go alone, that’s fine. I get it.”

He shook his head, squeezing your fingers reassuringly and bringing them up to his mouth for a kiss.

“I’ve just never introduced her to a friend. Or a partner. She’s actually never met anyone.”

You nodded, taking a step forward and forcing him to move.

“Come on, I’m sure she’s going to love me. You do.”

Spencer took a deep breath before following you inside, inhaling the smell of sanitizer, store-bought cookies, and old couches. He signed the two of you in, leading you to room 112, located at the end of the hall.

“Mom? I brought someone for you to meet.”

Diana turns around in her seat, bookmarking an old novel and setting it on the armrest.

“And who is this, Crash?”

You smiled, reaching out your hand to shake.

“Um, we’re dating.” He forced the words out quickly like he couldn’t wait to say them.

She smiled, her smile lines reminiscent of her sons.

“I know that. I was wondering when you two would come to see me. It’s been months.”

Both of you turned to each other in surprise, trying to decide if it was better to correct her or let her be.

“He only asked me out a few weeks ago. Are you sure you’re not thinking of someone else?”

She shook her head, her smile only growing.

“Silly me. I thought you had been together for a while. He always used to send me letters, and then when I moved here, he wouldn’t shut up about you.”

Your smile grew to match hers, watching as Spencer grew more and more flustered.

“I didn’t talk about you as much as she makes it out to be.”

“Crash, don’t lie to your mother. I could barely get a word in otherwise. But I’m glad he finally brought you around, you’re very lovely.”

You squeezed Spencer’s hand, reveling in the red tips of his ears and downward gaze.

“That’s very nice of you, Crash.”

[604to647]

Strawberry Shortcake (Epilogue)

4.3K / Frankie Morales x fem!reader

Summary: After a few blissful months together, you and Frankie face your first challenge as a couple.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Established relationship, oral (f receiving), allusion to smut, nicknames (Shortcake, baby, hermosa), single parenthood, Frankie is a dad but he's also daddy, fluffffffff.

A/N: Thank you to those of you who are finishing this mini-series with me! I hadn't originally planned on on Epilogue (posting this at the same time as Part 2), but it felt fitting to add something that combined the vibes of Parts 1 and 2. And of course, we couldn't let Frankie go without letting him🍴😺 (🤭🤭🤭). Hope it's been an enjoyable story and thank you again for reading! 😘

Series Masterlist / Part 1 / Part 2 🍓🍰

Optional soundtrack: "I Wanna Know" by Joe, "Rock the Boat" by Aaliyah, "Peaches and Cream" by 112, "Whatta Man" by Salt-N-Pepa, "Red Light Special" by TLC

Strawberry dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥰🥰

The 90s-early-aughts RnB mix on the stereo is playing “I Wanna Know” by Joe as you trail your fingers across the chest of the man sitting rigidly in the chair in the middle of the room, rounding behind his with a flirty sway of your hips.  You love this song, and as you lean over him from behind, your hum of the familiar melody vibrates in the man’s ear before you give it a little nip with your teeth.

“Hermosa.”

“Francisco,” you parrot back to him.  Having now completed your circle of the chair, you nudge open his legs with your knee and he readily acquiesces to your wordless request - spreading his legs wide to accommodate your advancing figure.

You must not be moving fast enough for his liking because Frankie hooks two of his thick fingers into the band of your mesh lavender panties and yanks you towards him.  You brace yourself on his hard chest and push back up, gingerly remove his hand from your underwear, tutting, “Francisco, what’s the rule in the private room?”

Through gritted teeth, Frankie recites, “No touching.”

“Exactly,” smirking, you use your hips to draw figure eights while you slowly lower yourself until you’re face to face with your handsome boyfriend, leaning in to plant breathy butterfly kisses along his scruff covered jaw and down the column of his neck.

Your hands grip his thighs and you’ve arched your back so your barely covered ass sticks up in the air, shaking for Frankie darkened gaze.  He swallows hard and when his Adam’s apple bobs under your lips, you laugh and stick out your tongue to give it a lick.

“I swear to god, Shortcake,” Frankie warns, voice already taking on a low growl.   

But you’re taking your role very seriously, not willing to give in to Frankie just yet.  Sure, it’s not the dimly lit private room at The Midnight Palace with its velvet couch lined walls, but rather your living room where the walls are lined with storage solutions overflowing with kids toys, but the two of you can still play.

“Anything you want me to do, Francisco?” you purr as you get up and stalk around Frankie again, draping yourself over his shoulder from behind, hands rubbing up and down his hard chest.

“Want you to let me touch you, baby,” groans Frankie, “let me make you feel good.”

You’re tempted, of course.  Every time you play this game, it ends with Frankie’s face buried between your legs, pulling at least one more orgasm from you than you had planned on when you gave up the roleplay.   But you still have all your lingerie on and it’s a pretty little lavender set that the man in front of you bought you – it makes you feel sexy as hell; you’re not ready to have it ripped off of you quite yet.

Stepping in front of Frankie again, you continuing to dance, hitting each beat of the music with an exaggerated bump of your hips that sends the tops of your breasts jiggling, nearly popping out of your bra – all right in front of Frankie’s face.  You see his hands start to lift off his thighs and you tsk, “The man I met at The Midnight Palace was so patient and respectful.  What happened to that man, Francisco?”

You turn and press your back right up against Frankie’s chest and slide down slowly, arching your chest out so he gets a good view of your nipples straining against the see-thru fabric.  It takes all of Frankie’s will power not to bit down on the back of your shoulder as he growls, “He discovered what you feel like.”

“Oh yeah?” you grin to yourself, grinding your ass down on Frankie’s growing bulge, “And what do I feel like?”

The low murmur of Frankie’s honey laced baritone sends a chill down your spine, “Like heaven, Shortcake.”

Turning to face him again, you bend over and brace your hands on his shoulders, bringing your face so close to Frankie’s that your noses nudge and you can feel the fan of his breath curl over your lips, “What about me is heavenly, baby?”

“Your lips.” 

At his words, you press your lips lightly to his and when Frankie’s mouth opens slightly to inhale your air, your tongue peeks out to lick his teeth, “What else, baby?”

“Your bare shoulders.”  He’s testing the waters.

Proud that Frankie’s catching on to your little game, you bite your lower lip and flutter your eyelashes while you slower lower your bra straps so they fall down your arms.  “Anything else, daddy?”

“Your pretty tits are heaven on earth, hermosa.”  Though he will never tell you, Frankie loves it when you let him undress you with his words almost as much as he enjoys doing so with his hands.

Now full out grinning, you right yourself and continue to move your body to the music, swiveling your ass in slow circles while you reposition yourself until you settle nicely on Frankie’s thigh with a little bounce.  You wrap both your hands around the wrist of his right hand and bring it up to your face. 

Frankie’s eyes darken with want as you lick your lips and take two of his fingers into your mouth, lightly sucking and stroking his thick digits with your tongue.  When you see him close his eyes and inhale deeply, you fold his remaining fingers down and hold them to his palm with your hands before pulling him out of your mouth and dragging his wet fingers down your throat to your chest. 

When you angle his fingers down the front of one of your bra cups, Frankie instinctively keeps them hooked down between the fabric and your smooth, silky skin; smirking a little when he hears you gasp at the coolness of his wet fingers brushing against your already hard nipple.  You tug down on his wrist and the hold that Frankie keeps on your bra cup pulls it down, allowing your ample breast to tumble out with a drop and a rippling bounce.  You giggle a little when Frankie’s mouth drops also and you hear what sounds like a moan trapped in his throat.  Smiling to yourself, you wordlessly repeat these actions, starting once again with his fingers in your mouth, on the other side of your chest.  When you’re fully exposed to him, bra cups bunched up below your bare chest and bra straps hanging loosely on your forearms, you stand and plant yourself right between his legs.  Pressing your tits together with your elbows, you lean over to press a soft kiss to Frankie’s jaw, right where his scruff is a little patchy and coo, “Like what you see, Francisco?”

He grunts menacingly right into your ear, “Just you wait until I get my hands on you, Shortcake.”

Giggling, you resume your little dance before reaching behind you and undoing your bra, finally letting it fall to the ground.  Giving Frankie one last look at your naked curves before turning around, you bend over – shoving your panty clad ass up and giving it a playful wiggle, “On this too?”

Frankie is nearing his breaking point, and to be honest, so are you.  You’re just as worked up as he is from all this teasing, the damp spot in your panties growing larger and darker the longer he and you keep up your roles.  “Had enough, daddy?” you coo, as you very slowly start to shimmy the band of your panties over your hips, looking over your shoulder to see Frankie’s eyes glued to your barely covered core.

“Seems like you’ve had enough too, hermosa.  Those panties I bought you look soaked through,” he smirks.

Standing again, you pull up your underwear, turn and climb over his thick thighs so you straddle the handsome man who’s still grinning at you cheekily.  Even if he wasn’t right, you would have given in to him at the first appearance of that little dimple of his that shows up whenever he’s being super adorable.  Lowering yourself to sit onto of his straining bulge, you wrap your arms around his neck before giving him a soft peck on his lips, “Yeah, I’ve had enough, baby.  Touch me please, Francisco.”

Frankie doesn’t need to be asked twice – he never does.  His big hands immediately explore, zoning in on all the places he’s been itching to caress and love on: your neck, your tits, soft curvy waist, that ass.  You moan and plead above him, arching into his touch and begging for more as your tongue tangles with his, lips molding together until you bite down on his lower lip and nibble.

Fingers threading through Frankie’s soft curls, you tug and whimper as his mouth makes its way down your throat, licking and sucking zealously as revenge for how you teased him earlier.  When he finally drops down to take a breast in his mouth, you see sudden stars and cry out so loud you think your neighbours might hear.  In the second of reprieve that Frankie allows you, you give a small thanks that Raynor isn’t home but staying with your mother tonight.  But then Frankie starts mouthing and teasing your nipple with his tongue and everything else is forgotten. 

You whine helplessly as he switches between your breasts, giving each its proper attention with his snipping teeth and his soothing tongue, while the other is worshipped and manhandled by his meaty hand.  He repeats this tantalizing pattern so many times you lose count.  As you rake your fingers down his back over his linen shirt, you start to grind small circles over his rock-hard length and Frankie’s free hand grabs your hip to help guide your movements; your clit starts to catch on the seam covering the zipper of his jeans as you build up a faster rhythm and suddenly you’re coming.  Staying latched to your tits, Frankie holds you close and licks your nipples as you shudder and shake through your orgasm; planting a soft kiss to each hard and perky peak once you start to come down. 

Cupping your face to take in your sated, euphoric expression, Frankie kisses you sweetly and murmurs, “Your turn in the chair, Shortcake.”  Still dazed from your unexpected climax, you let Frankie maneuver your body so that you exchange positions - you now sitting in the chair and gazing up at him adoringly as he stands before you.

“Are you going to dance for me, Francisco?” you giggle.

Frankie kneels between your spread legs on the plush carpet and smiles playfully, his eyebrows wiggle as he rubs your thighs, “My tongue plans on doing a little dancing, why do you ask?”

Omigod, a dad joke while he’s eye level with your cunt – you almost groan, but instead squeal when Frankie suddenly hooks his fingers under the side bands of your panties and yanks so hard he sweeps the fabric under you bum in one fluid motion.

“Daddy!  Careful – those are new!” you pout.

Slipping them down your legs and over your feet, Frankie smirks, “I know, baby.  I bought them.  Don’t worry, I’ll buy you more if we ruin them.”  You know he would – Frankie loves buying you lingerie.  He says it reminds him of your time together at the club, and to be honest, you love reliving that time with him where the two of you would get lost in your want for one another, so you always happily indulge his purchases.

But right now, the lingerie that Frankie so greedily watched you model for him earlier holds no interest, he casually discards the wet scrap of mesh and lace over his shoulder as his looks upon your glistening cunt.  Holding your thighs open with his firm hands, he lowers himself and hovers over your mound, inhaling your sweet scent.  You feel his soft breath fanning all your needy parts that ache for his touch and you whine for more.  Twinkling eyes catching yours, Frankie blows gently so that his warm breath hits your wet folds and the sensation sends a chill through you – you squirm and giggle, but Frankie holds you firmly so you stay open and pliant for him. 

“Francisco.”

“Shortcake,” he mimics your earlier exchange, “something you want to say?”

“Please touch me, daddy.”

“Oh, I see – all politeness and no teasing when it’s your turn in the chair?”  He’s having entirely too much fun with this.

You give his floppy curls a harsher than necessary tug with your fingers as a response.

“Okay, okay,” grimaces Frankie, “demanding little pussy, isn’t she?”

Then, before you can retort, he dives in.  Licking long fat stripes through your folds, Frankie explores and tastes you like you’re a culinary spread laid before a starving man.  He swirls and flicks his tongue over all your sensitive pieces until you wail with pleasure, and he hasn’t even begun to properly feast.  Adding his nose to his efforts, he drags the tip up to your already swollen clit and nudges while his mouth continues its happy work.  Inhaling, he grins so big you can feel it against your seam – Frankie always tells you that you smell and taste like strawberries and cream; you don’t quite believe but he swears it’s true.  He declares it whenever he emerges from between your legs, face beaming and shiny with the evidence of your arousal, affirming cheekily that strawberry shortcake remains his favourite dessert.

Right now, he’s devouring you like his favourite course.  Open mouth kissing your pussy and spreading your slick everywhere he can reach whenever your needy hole drowns his talented tongue with another wave.  Pushing his tongue deep into your cunt, Frankie starts to set a steady tempo, using his mouth to create a sucking seal while he tongue fucks you.  At the encouragement of your incoherent moans and praise above him, he keeps his pace fixed and unwavering so that the coil that spools beneath your belly button, where his large hand currently sprawls to hold you still, can twist and tighten, getting ready to ignite with a white fire.  Almost overriding the heaven of his mouth, Frankie’s nose bumps your clit so insistently and so deliciously you start to come undone. 

Grabbing a fistful of Frankie’s soft curls, you sing, “Frankie!  I’m going to come, baby.”  Frankie quickens his movements, pushing his nose, his tongue and mouth, his face, harder and deeper against your pussy so he doesn’t miss a single quiver or a single drop of your nectar as you wail and explode, your second orgasm of the night somehow more earth shattering than the first.

When you come back to yourself, chest still heaving and voice hoarse from screaming the name of the man who remains kneeling before you, you feel rather than see through your still blurred vision that Frankie is still lapping at your juices, pushing you towards overstimulation.

“Frankie!”

He shakes his head violently, mouth still suctioned to your cunt, “Give me one more, hermosa.”

The vibrations of his low baritone are almost enough to restart your spiral, “I can’t, baby!”

“You can,” his voice practically a growl, Frankie nods eagerly against your core before laying fluttering kisses all over your pussy, the wet sounds of his mouth lightly smacking against your wetness spurn you forward and you buck your hips up to meet his lips.  Chuckling, Frankie pulls away slightly from his meal and you whine at the loss of him, but it’s only so he can admire your dripping slit; sliding his thick fingers through your folds, Frankie exhales, ‘Beautiful’, before thrusting two into your cunt – the sudden intrusion has you shrieking in bliss:

“Oh - fuck Frankie, feels so good!”

“Daddy, no one eats me out like you…”

“Oh my god… my god… ruin me, Francisco!”

Continuing to saw his fingers in and out of your tight hole, Frankie flicks your throbbing clit with his hard tongue until you start to writhe uncontrollably, trying to run from his mouth – cutting off your escape, he latches on to your slippery nub and starts to suck.  You howl.

“Come on, baby.  Give it to me,” he hums as you squirm and twist, the rapture Frankie is handing you is too much.  You’re practically sobbing, the edge you’re reaching for so very close yet at the same time, too far away.

“Too much, daddy!”

“You can do it, baby.  Be a good girl and give me another,” Frankie’s voice dark and commanding.

And you do.  You give him another because Frankie eats your pussy like it’s his favourite thing in the world and whenever he goes down on you, he makes sure you know it’s as much for his enjoyment as yours.  You moan just thinking about his cock straining against pants right now, already leaking and making a mess of his boxers just from having tasted you.

You give it to him because his fingers stretch you out like no one else’s ever has or ever will, and he’s discovered parts of you that you can’t reach on your own.  He gives and gives with his mouth and his fingers until your warm walls clamp down on him so hard it’s almost painful, and gush so much it practically drips down his chin.  You give him another because he loves it and so do you.  You love him.

After Frankie somehow arranges your spent and pliable body so that you’re once again in his lap, you kiss him sweetly as you help clean his face with your thumbs and tell him so, “I love you, Frankie.”

Pressing his forehead to yours, eyes closed in contentment, Frankie can never get over how lucky he is to have you, “I love you more, hermosa.”

Snuggling under Frankie’s chin, you litter tiny butterfly kisses on the underside of his jaw, humming to the RnB music that’s still playing from the stereo; before long, you’re shaking your bum to the beat, rubbing up against Frankie’s crotch and giggling.  Frankie looks down at you with his eyebrow cocked, finding your pretty face already grinning impishly at him as you grind down on him more purposefully.

“Alright, you’re going to get it now.  Get to the couch, Shortcake.  Face down, ass up,” Frankie ends his order with a stinging slap to your ass that has you yelping and squealing with excitement.  Practically sprinting to the couch, you assume the requested position, giggling with your cheek pressed down against the couch cushion as you watch Frankie follow, unbuckling his belt with a lazy grin on his face and a lustful gleam in his eye.

---

Later in bed, both warm and pliant from a long soak in the tub together, you lay in Frankie’s arms, fingers lightly drawing circles on his chest through his sleeping t-shirt.

“Frankie?”

“Hmmmhmm,” he hums low, voice raspy from near sleep.

“I’m nervous about tomorrow.”

Frankie eyes open gingerly to find you peering up at him with an adorably worried expression on your face.  He extricates his free hand from underneath the covers and strokes you face lovingly, “Everything will be okay, Shortcake.  I’m sure of it.”

You nod, but bite your lip, still unsure, “What if everyone gets upset?”

An indulgent smile tugs at the corner of Frankie’s mouth, “Do you plan on getting upset, hermosa?”

“Of course not.”

Gently rubbing your temples, Frankie soothes you the best he can, “Well neither am I.  So not everyone can get upset.”

Propping yourself, you shoot playful daggers with your eyes at his grinning face, “You know what I mean!!”

Chuckling, Frankie pulls you down onto him before quickly rolling you over so you’re pinned beneath him; bracing his hands next to your head, he smirks at the semi-surprised look on your face, “I know what you mean, Shortcake.”

He kisses you sweet, light and reassuringly; flutter kisses all over your face, lips, right down your neck before dipping his head to his intended destination: your already perked up nipples poking up against the soft chiffon negligee that he also gifted you.  Between his light nips and sweet kisses Frankie murmurs, “No matter what happens, we’ll get through it, baby.”

“But, w- nghhhh!” The covers are thrown off and the cool night air hits your scantily clad body with a start just as Frankie takes one of your peaks in his mouth and bites down teasingly with his teeth.

“You worry too much, hermosa,” Frankie purrs as he tugs up at your nipple, letting it go and watching it bounce to your whimpers before turning his head to give the other breast the same treatment.  “Head too full to sleep, I think.  Let’s see what we can do about that.”

Giggling, the last thing you see before you throw you head back in unadulterated pleasure is Frankie’s smirking face disappearing between your legs under the fluttering skirt of your nightgown.

The drinks have come.  Two glasses of milk are placed in the centre of the table so they don’t get knocked over, next to your club soda and Frankie’s diet Coke.  The waiter has just left after taking all four orders, leaving the children with colouring sheets and crayons to occupy them during what he promises will be a short wait.

After Frankie picked up Valentina from her mother’s this afternoon, he had swung by and picked you and Raynor up for dinner.  The children never questioned why you were having Sunday dinner at their favourite fast casual restaurant instead of eating a quiet homecooked meal at one of their houses.

Both furiously colouring their masterpieces, Valentina and Raynor remain oblivious to the awkwardness of their parents sitting across the table from them.  You take a deep breath and lean forward over the table as you feel Frankie’s firm hand squeeze your thigh reassuringly before taking your hand in his.  You’re going to do it.  You’re going to tell the kids that you and Frankie are dating.

“Hey kiddos, Uncle Frankie and I have something we want to talk to you about.”

Raynor lifts his eyes to look at you, and Valentina follows suit after an elbowing from her best friend.

Trying to put on a comforting smile, you attempt to get through the speech you practiced with Frankie this morning without tripping over your own tongue, “You may have notice that Uncle Frankie and I have been spending more and more time together… and we’ve realized that we really, really care about each other.  And sometimes when two adults care about each other a lot, it makes them want to spend even more time together, and not in the same way we do with other adults, but in a special way with just each other.  But even though our relationship is changing, we want you to know that we still love you both very, very much and you are both the most important people in our lives – and you always will be.  Just because Uncle Frankie and I are dating, doesn’t mean you have to worry about things changing for you, okay?”

“Okay.” The kids go back to colouring. 

You and Frankie look at each other, That’s it?  Frankie clears his throat and the two children look up at him, “Dating means, very special friends.  Different than the way I’m friends with Uncle Santi or Uncle Will.”

“Okay.”  Two little heads look back down at their art.

Shoot, are we botching this?  Your eyes widen at Frankie and he tries again, “Friends that… kiss.” 

This time when the kids stop their colouring and look up, there’s almost an exasperated expression on their faces.

“We know.”

“We saw you kiss at the movies.”

“And at the zoo.”

“And last week when we were playing t-ball with Uncle Benny.”

“Sometimes you kiss in the kitchen when we’re in the living room watching TV.”

“And after you drop us off at school, you hold hands when you leave.”

“And you’re holding hands under the table right now.”

You drop Frankie’s hand like a hot potato, slack jawed at having been caught by two six-year olds.  When out of the corner of your eye you see Frankie’s shoulders start to shake with laughter, you recover, “I’m sorry, we weren’t trying to keep it from you… we wanted to make sure we knew that it’s something we both wanted before sharing it with you.  Are you okay with me and Uncle Frankie dating?”

Valentina scrutinizes you with an almost intimidating gaze before her face relaxes and she smiles big, “Yeah.  I’m okay.  I think you make my dad really happy.”

Frankie takes his daughter’s hand in his on the table and says in a soft voice, “She does, mija.  Thank you.”

“Ray-ray?”  You study your son, whose thoughtful expression is so much like his father’s.  You give him the time he needs to process, knowing that even if he doesn’t fully understand what ‘dating’ entails, he will have emotions that are valid in the face of change.

“Does Uncle Frankie make you happy too, mama?” when Raynor finally speaks, you could nearly cry – you nod furiously at your considerate, sweet boy.  He nods back, “Then I’m okay with it.”

You and Frankie exchange a smile, of relief and of pride at the sweetness of your children.  Single parenthood is tough, but it’s a little less tough when you do it together.

Valentina’s sugary sweet voice belies the look of mischief currently painting her face, “Are you going to kiss now???”

“Yeah,” says Frankie tenderly, looking only at you, “we’re going to kiss now.”  And he presses his mouth to yours, once, twice, three times – chaste, gentle and full of promise.

At this, your soft and sweet declaration of love, twin voices yell in unison:

“Ewwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!”

Thank you again to everyone who came on this (what turned out to be rather long 🤭) ride with me! Since I'm posting Part 2 and the Epilogue at the same time, I'm tagging a few people who expressed an interest in the story on Part 1 (thank you!! 🥹🥹💖):

@aurorawritestoescape @magpiepills @pastelpinkflowerlife @southernbe @heareball

@mermaidxatxheart @nandan11 @mellymbee @jessthebaker @milla-frenchy

@littlemissoblivious @tuquoquebrute @inept-the-magnificent @posting-my-time

[waayfo]

The Language of a Book :: alhaitham

pair : alhaitham x fem!reader

summary : alhaitham couldn't express his feelings directly, so he used another way to express them to you through a book. A book containing scraps of Alhaitham's diary about his feelings for you.

Cw : fluff, confession (alhaitham), slight suggestive?? no plot, ooc (soft) alhaitham, bad grammar

a/n : I also published this on AO3! If you like this, I hope you guys check that out too. English is not my first language so forgive me for any mistakes and let me know. Ty! ୧⁠(⁠＾⁠ ⁠〰⁠ ⁠＾⁠)⁠୨

Alhaitham put a slightly thick book with a brown cover, making you look at Alhaitham with surprise and wonder. "What's this?"

"Don't you see? It is a book." His answer was cold and indifferent, as usual.

"This thick? What kind of book is this? And why did you give it to me?" Alhaitham is silent and looks hesitant to answer your question. He put his hand over his mouth and covered it.

"... Stop talking a lot. Just read it."

"You know? I feel nauseous when I'm going to read a book this thick."

"Thick, you say? Thick? You've got to be kidding me. This book only contains 112 pages. I'm surprised you can still survive at the Akademiya." You were about to protest but stopped when Alhaitham growled and his hands went up and put them behind his neck. It was as if he was trying to hide his face. Oh, shit! He looks so handsome!

You cleared your throat to get your focus back on. After that Alhaitham leaned on a bookshelf close to him. Luckily the bookshelf was strong enough to hold Alhaitham's body from falling.

"Okay..?" you muttered. Your hand slowly opened the first page of the book.

"Okay," Alhaitham replied slowly. His voice, which had been seductive from the start, became even more seductive when he said it.

You glanced at Alhaitham and you realized something— Wait a second! Is Alhaitham blushing?! — you noticed a hint of red in Alhaitham's ears. For the first time, you see Alhaitham looking shy.

That's bad, your heart beats fast when you are about to return to reading the book Alhaitham gave you.

Your eyes widen as soon as you read the neat and beautiful handwritten sentence that you suspect is Alhaitham's handwriting, written at the top; 'A Confession' ?

Surprisingly, you can smell Alhaitham's signature scent on the paper. But you don't hate it at all. Not when it is Alhaitham.

With a feeling of hesitation, you unfold the next sheet which makes you feel a warm feeling like the warmth of summer. You also realize that every page of the book—or even the contents of the entire book—is a scrap of paper put together to make a book. Like recording on paper media.

'06 - 06 - xxxx

I met that girl for the first time, but somehow I felt she was reliable.'

You don't know the meaning of that sentence, but you feel it is a good thing. So your hand reaches for the next sheet and reads it.

'27 - 06 - xxxx

I was assigned to a project with that girl. I hope she's not a burden. '

After reading several pages that contain all of Alhaitham's thoughts about you, your hand stops to open the next page for a moment at the same time as your eyes widen when you read that short sentence that holds a lot of meaning.

'xx - xx - xxxx

It seems that... I like her.'

You immediately understand why the title of the book is called 'A Confession'. You're not that stupid not to understand it.

Quickly, your head shot up to stare at Alhaitham who looked like a boiled crab for the first time. His face was red, but he tried to cover it up using the book he was (pretending to) read.

"What?" Alhaitham asked hoarsely. But his attempts to cover up his flushed face were failed.

Your gaze softens, a warm smile appears on your face. "No."

Slowly you read each page of the book. Gradually, the sentences that Alhaitham wrote, which were short at first, became a little more. A smile doesn't escape your face while reading it, occasionally accompanied by a red face when you read a sweet sentence that warms your heart. Until finally you are at the end of the page of the book.

'Thousands or even more languages in this world cannot describe how much I want to always hold your hand and always be by your side. Also can't describe clearly how much I love you.'

You hear Alhaitham shiver as he takes a quick peek at the last sheet. You laughed at his response, not expecting that an Alhaitham could write a sentence for someone who is being fooled by love like this.

You closed the book, then looked at Alhaitham. Alhaitham put the book he was (pretending to) read all along on the same table where you put the book. "So?" Alhaitham's voice broke the silence that had been created earlier.

"Yes," you answer.

"Yes what?" Alhaitham asked back.

"I like you too." Like magic, Alhaitham's eyes widened in disbelief. His body moved slowly closer to you, his hand slowly grabbed your waist.

"Can I kiss you?" You answered him with a nod.

With that, Alhaitham kissed you. The kiss was sweet and not forced. Taste like cherry, you thought. The taste is also intoxicating and makes you addicted and want more. Like magic, your body moves closer to deepen the kiss.

"Greedy," Alhaitham said in between kisses as soon as he realized your true intentions. You just replied with a chuckle. "But you love me."

Alhaitham smiled as soon as you said it. Once again, he kissed you.

And it's true, Alhaitham is a man fooled by love because of you and only for you.

[jsab-corruptedbond]

This is a blog dedicated to the JSAB Fan Comic "Corrupted Bond", here will post pages, Answer questions related to the comic or the main cast and reblog fanart related to this comic. I do this comic for free but if you like to support me, you can commission me or donate through ko-fi! every dollar helps ^^

WHAT'S THE STORY ABOUT?

A retelling of Just Shapes and Beats story mode but in Blixers point of view (guy with crown) who is known as the villain in the game, everyone fear him but the more you know him, you realize he's not as bad as people make him up to be.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Main Story

Cover 1 ▼ 1 - 30 ▼ 31 - 59 ▼ 60 - 86 ▼ Cover 2 ▼ 87 - 112 ▼ 113 - 129 ▼ 130 - 139 ▼ 140 - 147 ▼ 148 - 157 ▼ 158 - 166 ▼ 167 - 175 ▼ Cover 3 ▼ 176 - 185 ▼ 185 - 195 ▼ 196 - 202 ▼ 203 - 212 ▼ 213 -220 ▼

Side Story

Father and Son

Other

Character Height

Human Design

(This list will be updated as the story goes on)

ASK BOX RULES

Yes you can hug the characters. Stop asking that

No art request, especially OCs. (unless its just my characters then I'm fine with it, though the chance of me drawing it is very slim)

Don't ask to put your OCs in the comic

I do character asks box. NOT ROLE PLAYS

If you have a normal ask and I don't answer, its most likely spoiler

Other than that, have fun asking ^^

TAGS SORTING

I don't sort the pages with tags since its all in this blog but here are some other post that I do use Tags to sort: #ask - all answer to your asks! #doodles - post with doodles #lore - extra story information #extras - not so important brain dump #reblog - your fan art for this comic! If you made fanart for this comic, Please mention me! I don't always repost it but I definitely look at them

[for-ests]

Suffocation: Gojo Satoru x Reader

Suffocation MLIST Summary: Breakfast with Gojo leaves you with more questions than answers, but just maybe, you do have some room in your life for the white-haired sorcerer. Only if he plays his cards right. And damn, is he already doing a fantastic job. Wc: 5, 112 Warnings: none!

∘∙∘☾𖤓∘∙∘

A gentle touch on your arm stirred you awake. 

Contently, you were mid-yawn before your instincts took over, and you lurched forward, smacking your forehead against another. 

"Jeez!" A low, husky voice complained as your vision and comprehension focused. It was Gojo, and he was rubbing his forehead mid-laugh. 

You winced, bringing your own hands to cover your face. "I'm sorry," you groaned. And when you finally felt the pain on your eyebrow fading, you peeked through your fingers and realized you were only wearing underwear and a baggy shirt. And he was only wearing boxers. 

Your head shot up, instantly forming a glare. "What happened to knocking?" You scolded, throwing the comforter over your exposed lower half. 

"You're literally in my room!" Gojo raised his eyebrows, mouth agape. "In my bed?" 

Glancing around and finally taking it all in, you huffed in defeat. You flopped back against the pillows, hiding your face to avoid staring at his toned chest. There was no way you were going to apologize again. Judging by the sun's position peaking through the windows, it was too early for that. "Get out and let me change," you replied with embarrassment, sighing loudly. 

"Kicking me out of my own room?" Gojo teased. "What if I wanted to watch?" 

"Oh?" You taunted with tiredness, refusing to lift your head, finding comfort in your smug response. 

"What if I kick you in the nuts?" 

"Fiesty…" he raised his hands in surrender, backtracking out of the room. You opened your eyes again and watched him pretend he was writing down notes on an imaginary list. "Not a morning person." Check. "Got it!" 

Once the door shut, you hurried out of bed and zipped open your backpack. You winced when you realized all you had was a tank top and hoodie. It was better than nothing, better than giving him the satisfaction of wearing his shirt. 

You couldn't help but want to at least look presentable with what you had. You applied some chapstick and brushed through your hair before exiting the room and meeting a now fully clothed Gojo in the kitchen. 

The smell of coffee greeted you, and you sighed with relief. There was no reason for you to be so groggy, but you were, and your muscles ached. Not from the bed, but from the strain your muscles had gone through the night before. God, you could still hear the sound of your car imploding on itself. Your elbow still ached from smashing against the cracked glass to crawl out of the window. 

Still hazy, you slumped into the breakfast bar chair, elbows propping against the granite countertop. "You like coffee?" You asked, watching as he started to pour you a cup. 

"Cream and sugar?" That was all he said in return. You nodded. 

His cup was next, and the second the steaming liquid was finished pouring, he took it to his lips. 

Sneering at the thought of a burning tongue, your hands cradled the mug before you. But before you could say anything else, the tempting aroma of frying food filled your nose. You tilted your head past Gojo's towering frame and found bacon and eggs frying on the stovetop. There was more than enough for two. 

You glanced back at him in disbelief. He had already shown you enough kindness, and this was the last thing you expected. It felt domestic and didn't make you cringe or shy away. Instead, it made you start blushing, and you hated it. 

"You need energy." Gojo shrugged. 

"I could have-" 

"None of that," Gojo interjected. "You've been through enough." 

Contemplating your response, you brought the coffee to your lips and took an apprehensive sip. It was the perfect temperature. Your eyelids twitched as you relished in the flavor. 

With satisfied, upturned lips, Gojo turned around and separated a portion for you. "So, Y/N, tell me what you want," he asked, needing to know the answer before he let himself fall harder, to do things to and for you that he had never dreamed of doing for a woman. 

"Meaning?" You questioned, taking another sip. 

"Do you want me to find a reason for you to leave or to stay?" 

It was blunt. But you appreciated it. There were many reasons for you to do either. Following your heart had brought you to Jujutsu High, and you felt it wanted you to stay—at least for the remainder of your paid time off. Two weeks was enough time to know, grow, and figure it all out. 

If Gojo was willing to be blunt, you would grant him the same. 

"I want to stay," you replied. "At least, for now." 

"You want—"

"Yes." Your throat felt tight. Perhaps it was from sleeping in a new atmosphere and climate, but you suspected it was from his presence and what he was doing for you. What he had promised before, what you wanted to explore. "I want you to teach me." 

Jujustu sorcery wasn't foreign to you, but the possibilities were. What he had already shown you in 24 hours was enough to crave a greater understanding. 

Gojo placed the food in front of you, handing you a pair of chopsticks. 

Taking them, you hesitated, poking at the eggs as if they would reveal the answer you were looking for. 

Was it wise to be honest with Gojo? You contemplated. He had been watching over your brother, but that wasn't enough conviction to relent, to bow down and follow his lead. Even if he had given you his bed for the night and made you breakfast, even if he made you feel butterflies—you had gotten this far on your own. The power you already had, was all because of you, what you suffered through. 

You had been alone your entire life. That was true, but that didn't mean you had to be forever. 

You glanced up at him, softening as you realized he'd been waiting for your truthful answer the whole time. If you could read him, it was naive to think he couldn't also understand you. 

"I want to protect Yuji…" you started, speaking before critically thinking. "This wasn't what I was expecting but that's because I have never met anyone like me. I assumed he wouldn't share the same gift. But I'm happy we do." 

"It's dangerous," Gojo said softly but with a hint of warning. 

"Clearly," you laughed through your nose, finally being able to stomach a bite of food. Once you swallowed, you continued. "But I've lived long enough to understand the repercussions. I've spent my entire life wondering what my true purpose was, feeling out of place, seeing things nobody else could. I've understood what I could on my own, but I want more." 

You paused to take another bite, wondering if Gojo would interrupt you again. But he didn't. 

Swallowing, you continued, "I'm not oblivious either. I know you're powerful, I can sense it without knowing everything. But this time I want to understand it all and not turn away. "Another bite of food. "I don't want to go back to the office and see my patients suffering." Your eyes darkened. "The curses constricting around them and not being able to help." 

For your own twisted relief, you laughed. "I thought I was crazy, that's why I studied psychology…tried all the medications I could." You began to poke your breakfast again, not even noticing that Gojo had sat beside you. "But it had been something else all along. All those notebooks I filled with what I thought was gibberish are turning out to be for a reason." 

All those nights you spent sobbing, crying out to God for an explanation. From all the loss you'd suffered, the loneliness, the pain, the bad decisions that only confused you more. 

The cure was right before you, and you were still hesitating, on edge, and cautious. 

You turned your gaze to him. "You called it a gift." 

Did you even deserve that compliment? 

"I wasn't lying." Gojo stuffed his mouth with food, finding it hard to look at you even with a blindfold on. The conviction in your eyes was enough, the way they threatened to tear over. The color of your irises was beautiful—you were perfect, everything he hadn't ever thought to ask for presented to him in a moment he'd never expected. "Y/N, you captivate me." 

He didn't even realize what he'd said until he watched your eyes widen, and your entire expression shift into meekness. "How sweet of you," You replied lowly, your cheeks clearly dusting with pink. 

Sweet? Maybe. Gojo tried to remember a moment when someone had complimented him that way. It didn't matter if someone had. It meant the world coming from you. The time you'd already taken to get to know him and deal with his company. He tried to think of something witty, but your openness beckoned his own to come forth. "I want you to stay…as selfish as that is." Selfish because he was attracted to you, and selfish because you were useful. Were those reasons all that bad? 

No, they were not. But knowingly inviting you into this realm of uncertainty would be. Even if you expressed that the standard alternative was just as hard. Life hadn't been easy on you. 

The plate before you was empty, and you pushed it away. "Maybe we can both find out what it means to be selfish for once." 

"Would it be selfish if I was still putting you first?" Gojo asked, almost without sarcasm, before it instinctively took over. "I never indulge in my cravings." 

His eyes were all over you. Your ability confirmed as much, even if you couldn't physically see his gaze. 

"I'm being selfish enough as it is," you replied quickly. "Disregarding the responsibilities of what I have back home, the people that rely on me, the life I thought I wanted to live. My friends…" you trailed off. You almost said family. But your family was no more. Your family was Itadori. And you had gone over a decade without thinking of that name, your given name, your birthright. 

The explanation of your predisposed insanity. 

Gojo's hand covered yours. Not insanity. No, it was a gift. Letting his fingers glide through and intertwine with yours, you felt relief and safety. 

"Can I trust you?" You whispered, still unable to look over at him, staring at the empty plate and trying to calm yourself down by counting the crumbs left behind. 

"Yes." His shoulders relaxed, and so did his hold on your hand. He didn't want to let it go, so he turned your palm up and nudged his thumb along the softness of your skin. "I'll make the arrangments as soon as I can." 

"What does that mean?" 

"Whatever you want it to mean," he replied from his heart. He meant it even if it sounded otherwise. Gojo was confused by his submission to your questions and your wants. But he would be damned to refuse your needs. 

That's how you took it. You knew he hadn't forgotten his promises last night, what was supposedly going to happen later that evening. A tour, some drinks. Whatever you requested from the strip mall that you'd taken notice of your way through the suburbs of Tokyo. 

You snickered. Possibly the first genuine one you could've mustered since meeting him, since confirming all of your suspicions. Gojo was satisfied to know it was because of him. 

"Do I get my own room?" 

The sorcerer laughed, too. "Of course." 

"A kitchen?" You raised your eyebrows. "Something like you have here?" You gestured around, insinuating that the remaining vacant rooms down the hall were only bedrooms, bare necessity dorms that couldn't suit an adult woman like you.

"If you want it." He smiled. What he wanted to reply might have been considered inappropriate. You deserved what you requested, even if he knew you would be content residing in his space with him. But that would take time. Gojo was still battling to not flirt excessively and outwardly with you. 

Tongue gliding over your lips, you bit down anxiously, squeezing his hand simultaneously. "For now." 

He squeezed your hand back before pulling it away. He had to distract himself and retreat, feeling his breath catch at how plump and kissable your lips were. The craving to just lean down and kiss you had happened too many times already, and the urge grew stronger each time it crossed his mind.

All Gojo could seem to think about was how peaceful you had looked sprawled across his bed, ass poking half out from underneath the comforter, hardly covered by your pink lace panties. 

"What?" You questioned with raised eyebrows, noticing the smirk threatening to grow on his lips, the flush of his cheeks that weren't covered. 

"Nothing!" He replied right after your question sounded, the stool screeching against the hardwood with how fast he jumped from his seat. He quickly recovered, reaching for your empty plate and setting it over his. "Just planning out the day for you." 

Watching him frantically try to clean, you sighed and pushed onto the stool with the intent to help him. It was the least you could do after the welcomed surprise. "What are you thinking should be first?" You asked, snatching the plates from his hands and nudging him away from the sink with your hips. 

Gojo's expression was dumbfounded. He was frozen, wondering why he initially wanted to reach out and grab your ass. Once the shock of it all disappeared, he glimpsed the smug yet masked look of innocence in your expression. He noted that he would punish you for it once you uttered your consent. 

Reaching under the sink beside you, he pulled out a spray and twirled the bottle around his pointer finger. "Maybe I want to get you drunk first and see what you can actually do." 

You raised an eyebrow, as if you suspected that was what his retort would be. "That's why I asked you out for drinks." 

"Clever," he spoke aloud, followed by the squeak of the disinfectant bottle. 

The faucet began to trickle with hot water once you turned it on. Comfortable silence filled the usually quaint apartment as you scrubbed the dishes, taking note of where Gojo stored items in the cupboards, how he cleaned, his preferences. 

Despicable. You cursed yourself. What the hell were you trying to do? You were no housewife. You had a degree, a business, no need for a man in your life. Yet you still finished washing the dishes and set them aside to dry. This was the last night you would spend in his space. You didn't know his intentions, whether he would be grateful for your contribution or not. But the fact was that you had done it without asking. As if it was normal. 

You knew you didn't owe him anything. The notion of repayment hadn't even crossed your mind. You weren't doing it to impress him, or to give thanks. So why? 

The hairs on the back of your neck shot up, a chilling realization zipping down your spine. 

Gojo was already making you feel safe. What he had accomplished was your security. A promise made that hadn't been broken. 

Wiping your hands dry with the dish towel, you turned to find him waiting, leaning against the kitchen island. "Thank you," he said. "You didn't have to." 

"You didn't have to make me breakfast either." You stared back intensely. 

"Is that a big deal?" 

You looked away. "Maybe." 

"It doesn't matter what I want from you, Y/N." He set his elbow against the countertop. "The choice will always be yours." 

"What do you want from me?" 

Gojo shrugged, not like he didn't know, but he wasn't willing to admit it. "I don't know." 

"Don't lie to me." Your tone was firm, a challenge.

"What you're willing to give." The sincerity in his tone was apparent. 

"I've already promised you my entire day. So what do you think we should do first?" 

"A tour of the campus of course," He chuckled. "Yuji wants some alone time with you." 

"And what after?" You raised an eyebrow. 

"I said I would take you out, didn't I?" 

"Is that a date?" 

"Oh!" He threw his head back with laughter, elongating it on purpose. "That's what you want it to be, huh Y/N?" 

You chucked the dishtowel at his face, but he caught it before it could make contact. Gojo began to fold it, delaying his retort to make you overthink and squirm. 

Then, he nodded toward his bedroom, where all your current possessions unfortunately resided. "Go make yourself feel prettier than you already are." 

Your stomach flipped. But you still refused to move without an obvious answer. 

Gojo smirked. "You have twenty minutes."  

You wouldn't find out until weeks later that Gojo had instinctively turned his infinity off to hold your hand, be close to you, and touch you—without realizing it himself. 

∘∙∘☾𖤓∘∙∘

It took you a bit longer than twenty minutes to feel satisfied, but Gojo hadn't commented on it. You would emerge breathtaking either way. 

Now, you were gazing at a well-kept traditional sports stadium, your purse hanging loosely off your shoulder, Gojo standing far too close on the other side. There were multiple students in uniform sparring in the middle of the field; the only one you recognized to be Yuji. Whether or not you suspected or wanted him to be fighting so intensely with his fists, he was. The other students were just as determined.

It made you nervous, but it was admirable. Attendance was small, but they were close-knit. That mattered: if they complemented each other, if they could work together, if they could make a difference. 

"Are you the only teacher?" You asked, adjusting your strap higher up on your shoulder, eyes entranced by the multiple forms of cursed energy erupting in front of you. 

"No," Gojo replied. "Others specialize in different studies, but I'm the main guardian if I'm present." 

"Where would you be?" 

"Wherever I'm needed," he chuckled. "Which is more often than I'd like."

"So you really are the strongest?" You pried, gaze still focused ahead. You had assumptions from your gut feeling, but half were based on what you had picked up from Gojo and Yuji. Excitement bubbled inside you from what you could learn from the other students and staff you still had to meet. 

"And how did you come to that conclusion?" The sorcerer tilted his head down at you, arms crossed. 

It was bold, but you pushed your finger into his chest, on the exact spot that you could hear the rhythmic beating of his heart. You didn't have to say anything, and Gojo didn't need to ask. 

A vixen you were. Gojo wondered if you realized, to a curse user or ordinary person. You used every piece of information you learned to further your knowledge. It was funny, because you had pretended to know nothing at first. Every second he spent with you disproved his initial assumptions. 

The two of you had gone unnoticed for over ten minutes. You preferred it that way and were satisfied, curiosity invading your thoughts of the places you still were yet to see. 

Then, you thought about what you'd seen before bumping into Gojo yesterday. "Show me the gardens." 

"How did you know?" 

"The map is pretty straightforward." You shrugged. All the trails were documented, even if the meaning was absent. But there was a small cemetery past the onterage of blossoms and foliage. It did not matter what part of the mystery was calling out to you. You would find it.  

"It was where we met." Your tone was delicate, not too forceful or too soft. There was a heartfelt emotion behind it, and Gojo was unsure how to analyze it. "There was a discrete trail. If you hadn't stopped me, thats where I would have gone." 

Trying to think of a reply, Gojo watched you raise your hand and enthusiastically wave. The students had noticed your presence. Yuji seemed particularly happy to see you, the call of your name echoing throughout the stadium.  

"I promise it's nothing special." Gojo seemed dumbfounded, not because you were wrong, but because he hadn't remembered the landscape of where he first saw you. The campus was blind to him. Most of his life and memories were rooted there, and nothing seemed extraordinary to him anymore. But when he saw you, it was as if he'd seen the world and all of its entirety again. Nothing else mattered more, and that's why his soul was searching for a more straightforward answer, unclouded by the distraction of your perfection. Were you part of the answer? 

For almost a decade, Gojo had walked through life believing he had figured it all out. 

"Special or not." You glanced up at him. "It's part of the tour," you teased before descending the bleacher steps. 

Itadori raced over to you before you even reached the grass. "How are you big sis?" He asked, arms reaching out like he wanted to hug you. 

"Cm'here," You giggled, pulling him into an embrace before he could retreat. You ruffled up his hair for good measure, eyes softening at the content smile he shot you before turning to his curious peers. 

“This is my sister, Y/N Itadori.” Yuji grinned, bending down with his arms like he was presenting you to an auction crowd. A boy with fluffy black hair and a cute girl with a bob stared back at you, clearly annoyed with Yuji's overreaction. 

"That's your sister?" The boy blinked in disbelief. 

"No way you're related!" The girl also seemed dumbstruck. "She's too pretty to be related to a rat!" 

"Hey!" Yuji pouted. 

Unsure of how to reply, you glanced nervously at Gojo. 

But, of course, he would only participate. That much you had learned about him. "Right? Shouldn't she be a model?" 

"And Yuji would be like… the…" The girl tapped her finger against her cheek, deep in thought. 

"Don't say, manager." The boy grumbled. "He's not smart enough for that." 

"You guys suck." Yuji deflated, etching a laugh out of the girl. It all seemed to be good fun. You later learned their names as Megumi and Nobara, the only two students in Yuji's freshmen class. 

After a passing introduction, all three of them started to bombard you with questions. 

"How long are you staying?" Yuji asked enthusiastically. 

"Is Gojo going to train you then?" 

"What can you do?" 

"A few things." You shrugged. "Nothing with crazy combat… more on the sidelines." 

"Like?" Megumi asked, his interest finally piqued. 

Nervously, you itched at your neck. You didn't know how to explain it or make it sound cool to a group of teenagers who were far more capable than you. "If it makes sense, I can see souls. Well, the color of them..." 

"She can also see the future," Gojo added lowly. 

"What color am I?" Nobara jumped up and down, Gojo's comment flying past her head. 

"She said mine was sunset orange!" Yuji boasted. "How cool is that?" 

"Megumi's is probably poop brown." Nobara pointed at him and cackled mischievously. 

Once the laughter died down, Megumi made the mistake of locking eyes with you. In turn, you gained access. He was more challenging to get through, no regular human boy, a sorcerer with enough training to fortify barriers, but weak enough for you to slip by. 

A roaring ocean at dusk, low hanging clouds that threatened to release at any moment. But there was another layer behind the grey—a yellow warmth that promised to kiss the dark ocean and reveal the blue beauty once again. 

"Midnight blue." Your eyes softened, understanding the reasonings behind his aloof and perceivingly cold demeanor. The lack of affection for those he cared about and how it would be misconstrued. 

Everyone turned their attention to you. How did that even make sense? 

But when they glanced back to Megumi, it was a precise explanation and more. He somewhat pouted from the attention but did not seem to disagree with you. 

"Me next!" Nobara pleaded, still unsure how you were doing it but staring at you with the same curiosity as the others. 

Looking into her eyes, you saw shades of reds and pinks, blending together with a spunky uniqueness you hadn't seen in anyone else before. Confidence and neon signs, a shade of mature lipstick, and high heels that clicked down obsidian tiles of luxury brand stores. But there was more than that; you saw tulips and kimonos of the same shade, dripping blood with unruly power. A sarcastic yet loyal type of love. 

It made you simper. "Rogue pink." You pointed to your cheeks and gestured at her to do the same. The makeup was light but placed delicately on her cheeks, rosy enough but feisty. 

"That's definitely you." Yuji nodded at Nobara. "You should see her room."

The young girl seemed satisfied, slightly shocked at how you guessed her favorite color. But she smirked at you, and you smiled back—both of you smitten about something the boys wouldn't understand. 

"Okay!' Gojo clapped his hands together. "Introductions are complete! Get back to work before you start boring poor Y/N." 

"It wasn't boring," you assured. "But he's right, it seems like you all have a lot to prepare for. Especially you, Yuji." 

"Noooo!" Yuji deflated. "Can't she stay and watch?" 

"Even better, she'll be training with us tomorrow!" 

"What!?" All four of you asked in unison. 

Tomorrow? Did you even want to? Hardly anything had been discussed yet or adequately planned. You still had people to meet and responsibilities to sort out. Before you could even ask another question, or fathom why you needed to begin so early, Gojo started speaking again. 

"Fine," he threw his head back in a defeated sigh. "I'll give her three days to settle in!" 

"You're ridiculous," Nobara huffed. 

Clearly, that much was obvious. But there were things you and Gojo knew that the students did not, and you would rather have him act oblivious and lighthearted around them in the meantime. Especially as you pieced your future together. 

Even if you were skeptical and fearful, you agreed to stay. The knowledge that you would come to know never promised to be easy. In fact, Gojo warned you of the dangers. It was all for Yuji in the end. And you were desperate to help him keep that innocence and happiness in his eyes. 

"I have to finish giving her a tour of campus." Gojo held his arm out for you. 

You took his arm, much to the surprise of the students. It was all to act unbothered by what lay in your uncertain future. Those scribbled prophecies could only reveal so much of the present.

"I'll catch up with you tomorrow, okay Yuji?" You smiled. "There's some things I have to sort through first." 

"Adult duties!" Gojo cheered beside you, tugging you away. "Of course Gojo sensei can help with whatever Y/N desires!" 

"I don't want to know what that means," Megumi grumbled to Yuji and Nobara as they all watched you walk away, disgustingly joyful to be so close to Gojo. 

∘∙∘☾𖤓∘∙∘

Shopping bags weighed you down, the plastic handles digging into your skin. Gojo was struggling with triple the weight, yet the smile on his face remained. He was able to purchase everything you needed to remain comfortable. It wasn't much, but he bought everything you gained the courage to ask for. 

And it was not even 9pm. 

"Still on for drinks?" Gojo asked as you both dumped the bags on your new bed. A chuckle left your lips as you unpacked some of the amenities you desperately needed. The apartment was reasonably spacious, equipped with a bedroom and bathroom. Nothing special, but it was enough. 

It was more than you needed, the equivalent of the motel room you'd been desperate to return to only a day before. But this time, you were protected. 

Biting down on your lip, you thought about your apartment back in the city. That was where you were most comfortable. Would you be comfortable here? Enough to stay? 

It was for Yuji. You told yourself, then turned to face Gojo. "Is there a place close by?" 

"I can actually take you anywhere in the world." He said with a surprisingly serious tone. There was an invitation in it, asking where you would want to go if you could. But it was also just the truth, and the innuendo excited you in both ways. "But I would prefer to stay close, traveling that far makes me sleepy sometimes." 

"And you want to stay up with me, huh?" You teased. 

"How'd you know you?" His mouth dropped open. 

You threw a new sweater at him, huffing in annoyance at his over-exaggeration. "Yes, we can go then." 

"I guess we'll see if you can outdrink me?" He smirked. 

"Once you start answering my questions I'll know that's when you had enough," you snickered. 

"Hmmm…" Gojo pursed his lips. "Not when I let you you take off my blindfold?" 

You immediately flushed. "I wouldn't do that!" 

"I believe you," he said with a chuckle. "But I don't believe you can out drink me… you're too weak." 

He lowered his face to yours to get a better look as if he were studying you. It really wasn't fair that you couldn't see his eyes. “And short… and…” 

"What?" You scoffed. 

"Beautiful," he whispered. 

Your breath hitched in your throat, and so did any attempt at a rebuttal. The teasing always quickly turned into compliments, and there was no denying that you didn't mind. How was he able to make you speechless for a second time that day? 

"Beautiful girls don't drink a lot of alcohol," he said sarcastically. "So it's looking like I'll win." 

He switched so fast, but you saw his hesitation, his preference to make the moment stretch just a little longer. The way his lips parted, the way you looked at his lips that were only inches away. 

Had you wanted him to kiss you? 

"Let me change quick!" You tittered. "Then we can be on our way." 

Satisfied to see how evidently flustered you were by his proximity, Gojo pulled his head back and stepped away from you. "Alright, go ahead," he said, but he didn't move. 

"Outside the room." You glared. 

"Maybe next time," he sighed but then started laughing. You rolled your eyes and pushed him out of your room. Under the fabric of his uniform, you could feel the hard muscles of his back. He was solid and heavy, and you knew you could only push him because he allowed it. 

Once the door closed, you leaned against the back of it and exhaled. Irritatingly enough, your face was consumed with a grin. Gojo had called you beautiful. 

The way he said it, too, caused your cheeks to remain hot. Were you that easy to impress? 

No… no man had ever caught your eye the way he had. 

Maybe you'd find some answers at the bar, where you could loosen up. Maybe with a bit of liquor in him, he could open up. 

[zmediaoutlet]

Survey results time.

At time of downloading the data we got just over 300 responses, which is not bad for a survey that was long and complicated to take! I'm sure my shamelessness helped. Being a survey for a specific crowd, we also didn't get anyone (as far as I could tell) taking the survey in bad faith, which is a legit surprise. Special shout-out to the several people who, when asked to write literally anything to say they understood what was going on, wrote "literally anything"; additional shout-out to the person who wrote "penus and hole" (sic). You get it, anonymous person.

I'm going to share the top results for the questions here, but I'll also include the raw data as a sheet at the end in case anyone wants to actually go through it with a fine-tooth comb. This is not a survey where cute pie charts or graphs would be useful or readable, so get ready for some sweet-ass numbers:

Story Genre

Unsurprisingly, our leaderboard for most favorite story genre in the 'Anytime!' category is as follows:

Hurt/comfort (153 votes)

Angst (142 votes)

PWP (139 votes)

We just like the guys to get the shit beaten out of them, angstily, and then they can feel better by jerking off about it. The ideal evening.

The big loser in genre, with 34 buds flat out saying "not for me", was Dark!fic. That said, Dark!fic also got 112 votes (third highest) for "has to be JUST right," so we can probably take from there that while as a group we don't hate dark content, we have pretty strict definitions for a) what counts as dark, and b) what kind of dark we're willing to take.

Gencest/gen was arguably the most 'eh, idk?' of the genres, with respectable showings in every category from Anytime to No; most people don't hate it, but people aren't really seeking it out either. It's definitely There.

Story Setting

The winner of most 'Anytime!' votes for story setting is close to my heart; the podium is:

Bunker era (142 votes)

Canon-close, codas, etc (129 votes)

Pre-series/weechesters (126 votes)

It feels good to know that canon is on our side. This may help explain why various alternate universe settings didn't do so hot with the respondents -- the least fave according to this survey is an age!swap AU, followed by a raised apart!AU. Writers who are making Sam the big brother who lives in Cleveland while baby Dean lives in Seattle, you keep living your truth, but readers are rearing back.

That being said, while Canon Divergence isn't an overall winner, it has a full 149 votes in the 'Dig it' category; so, while we may generally prefer canon, we're willing to be led on a garden path away from it. We just want canon to be within shouting distance, at least.

Canonical Character Variants

Here's where the survey gets more complex. I've always been interested in how and why people are fandoming about things, and simple 'yes/no' surveys rarely dig into that meat. The point of the superego/ego/id separation is to really interrogate -- hey, do you like to read about (for example) soulless!Sam because you find it interesting on a high-minded level, or because your heart-strings are getting tugged even if you think it's kinda dumb, or just because it makes you so hornt-up you can't think straight? All are valid, and all are possible simultaneously, but it's interesting to prod at to see how the interest is working. You might also just be like, eh, it's fine, or GOD, STOP, and that's fine too. So, with all that said:

Superego winners:

demon powers!Sam (202 votes)

soulless!Sam (177 votes)

blood addict!Sam (160 votes)

Y'all like to really brain about how Sam is fucked up. I get it.

Ego winners:

Trials of Hell!Sam (186 votes)

blood addict!Sam (180 votes)

demon powers!Sam (161 votes)

Still all Sam, and no surprise that his saintly pale sleeplessness is winning the heartstrings battle.

Id winners:

demon!Dean (205 votes)

demon powers!Sam (175 votes)

blood addict!Sam (165 votes)

Again, no surprise: fandom girlies (gn) love their bad boys, lol. Soulless snuck in at #4 here with 163, presumably because working out still wearing a belt was juuuust dorky enough to kick him off the podium; #5 was Smith & Wesson at 162, probably because if they'd been left in that AU for ten more minutes they would have been fucking over the top of Dean Smith's desk. Glad we're all on the same page, there.

The nopes here were an interesting mix. In the full-on No Thank You category we had Michael!Dean and Gadreel!Sam (with 52 and 53 votes respectively) -- it would be interesting to know if that was due to dread of the storyline specifically, or just how No Bad Wrong it felt to have it happening. These two also led the 'meh' category, although they were joined on the podium of bad by Endverse!Dean (128 Meh votes), which frankly shocked me. Y'all aren't into his thigh holster? C'mon now. Sure, he murders his friends without compunction, but -- thigh holster!

Story Tropes

These ones were fascinatingly all over the place, which is exactly why I wanted to do this. Going to just run down the S/E/I podiums real quick, then 'Hard sell', then No --

Superego winners:

Outsider!POV (211)

Someone Finds Out (191)

Mental health issues (190)

Ego winners:

Mutual pining (252)

First time (242) AND Sick/injured (242)

First time in a long time (235)

Id winners:

Jealousy/possessiveness (224)

First time (218)

First time in a long time (180)

Now, part of what's interesting about these is how they fall off in other categories. Outsider POV wins handily at Superego with 211, but then drops all the way down to 92 votes at Id -- which isn't nothing, but clearly it's preferred to have a heckin' think about how other people view the incest relationship, rather than thinking it's just So Hot that people might. Similarly, while people do think it's so so hot for one brother or the other (or both!) to be possessive at 224 votes, when it comes to the superego that drops right down to 134 votes, presumably as the brain wakes up and goes RED FLAG!

Entering the land of no thank you, we shall have two anti-podiums:

Real hard sell:

Infidelity (127)

magic/powers!Dean (125)

Unrequited/no relationship upgrade (110) AND "Carver Edlund" fandom

This is a much more mixed bag. Infidelity and Unrequited are no surprise here, because it Feels Bad, Man; magic!Dean also not really a surprise, given that most of our respondents prefer being closer to canon, and Dean is very much our mundane buddy in the show as presented. (A delightful buddy, but a distinctly nonmagical one.) Carver Edlund fandom makes me laugh mostly because it's such a bananas thing to exist in the show. Sam and Dean reading big bang fics about each other? Collectively we just... don't know what to do with that. Weird.

Squick/No/Maybe one exception:

Permanent character death (140)

Infidelity (108)

Eating disorders (102)

Again, no surprise in the anti-winners of 1 or 2 here, but number 3 surprised me, personally. ED fic used to be a pretty big wedge of common tropes that people would seek out. Perhaps it's gotten less popular over the years? Or perhaps just that the people who like it REALLY like it and so chat about it out loud, while those who don't quietly bury it in sand, lo as a cat does with their leavings.

Most extreme delta in 'general interest' (whether that be S,E, or I) to 'ehh' (whether that be Hard Sell or Squick) is first time. Y'all loooove your first time.

Sexy Tropes, Vol. 1

This is where I really wanted to know if people could pull apart their interests between brain and heart and guts. Hopefully people were honest, as requested. Some of them we know are slight liar answers, because the hits on AO3 tell a story that can't be refuted -- nevertheless, here's what people were willing to admit to.

Bulletproof kink/will read any version:

Bedsharing (158)

Incest kink (139)

Size kink (133)

your friendly neighborhood survey creator is jumping up and down going 'wooo' that size kink made the podium. also I hope everyone understood that incest kink meant, like, indulging in the incest of it all via 'oh you're so totes my brother and i want to suck your dingle for that reason specifically', but I realize that could've been clearer.

Easy sell/you don't have to work hard for me to enjoy:

shameless bottom!Dean stuff (151)

switching (147)

voyeurism (138)

the first one here genuinely surprises me considering what I see getting written most often; is this a case of just not being in the right venn diagrams, or the 'easy sell' just not matching up with what people are being sold? Curiouser and curiouser.

Medium sell/not my fave, but I can see how it appeals:

bad/awkward sex (120)

phone sex (114)

in [drug/alcohol] veritas (110)

edging into awkward town in a few ways here: we don't love these, but we can see how it'd be fun. or not fun, in the case of bad sex.

Hard sell/this is unbelievable or uninteresting so you have to work hard to get me to enjoy it:

always-another-gender!AU (84)

multiple Sams or Deans (73)

genderswap (magic) (72)

so, in general, we prefer to keep the penises around and intact, but just one Sam penis and one Dean penis, please. Here, I'm interested that the volume is much lower than in the top category: maxing out at 84 hard sells compared to 158 bulletproof options means that we're willing to give more of these tropes a chance, even if they're not our faves. How accepting we are!

Squick/no/maybe one exception:

always-another-gender!AU (83)

A/B/O elements (65)

multiple Sams or Deans (51)

strong overlap with the hard sell; and, keeping in mind that people were able to choose multiple options, it's possible that some of those were identical votes. Again, please keep the penises straightforward and only two at a time. A/B/O is interesting here, especially given what we know of how well it does on AO3; while it's a big squick for a lot of people, it also has decently high votes in bulletproof/easy, averaging 82 votes. Mixed bag!

Sexy Tropes Vol. 2, Electric Boogaloo

Bulletproof kink/will read any version:

Possessive/claiming sex (129)

Marking (hickeys/bruising) (116)

Hair pulling (103)

Let's glance back up at the Id winners in the story tropes above, hmm quietly to ourselves, and move on.

Easy sell/you don't have to work hard for me to enjoy:

Marking (hickeys/bruising) (135)

Hair pulling (130)

Possessive/claiming sex (121)

Well, that's boring. So let's expand so as not to be repetitive:

4. Dub-con (116) 5. Dom/sub (113) AND Underage (113) 6. Knifeplay (107)

There we go. Pretty easy to put all of those into one fic, too.

Medium sell/not my fave, but I can see how it appeals:

Blindfolds (128)

Painplay (116)

Shibari/rope play (112)

We're starting to lose interest as accessories come into play. Interesting to compare D/s and its relative success against painplay -- so, tell him what to do, but don't hit him while you're doing it. Fair enough.

Hard sell/this is unbelievable or uninteresting so you have to work hard to get me to enjoy it:

Fucking machines (94)

Vore (80)

Mommy!kink (77)

Entertaining mix here, haha. General feasibility may be rearing its head here. (Also, for my own entertainment: daddy!kink got 67 Hard Sell votes. People generally prefer to keep it as horizontal incest, not vertical incest.)

Squick/no/maybe one exception:

Feederism (164)

Vore (161)

Extreme underage (157)

No surprises here, although some fans of the nibbly variety of wincest may be disappointed by vore's poor placement. Note also that 'extreme' is in the eye of the beholder; we'll leave aside value judgments, as we have for the whole survey, and note that people are not indulging in a version of underage they find to be personally past the line, or at least are not admitting to that.

At a glance, the closest matchup between bulletproof for some and a squick to others is bloodplay, with just 1 vote separating the two categories: 44 bulletproof, 43 squick. Next time someone tries to tell you that 'everyone' likes or doesn't like something, please take it with an entire shaker full of salt.

Dynamic & Position Preferences

I tried to encourage people not to think too hard about this one and just answer on instinct. Who knows if that worked. But here are some overview takes:

Toppy/dominant: Sam takes the lead here, with 69% of respondents being in the 'Love it!' category. Nice. (217 votes)

Dom Dean earned a respectable 52% of 'Love it!' votes (163).

However, I was also interested to check out the inverse --

subby!Sam: 44 'Very no thank' votes (13%) subby!Dean: 27 'Very no thank' votes (8%)

It's interesting to leap way back up and compare that against 'shameless bottom!Dean stuff' doing so well in the rated E categories. Makes you ponder.

Actual sex position: Frequently switching takes the win here, with 61% of the vote (194 votes). Sam always topping edges out if people must choose, with 144 votes; Dean always topping is our lowest choice, with 112.

Service!topping: this is a fairly niche fic type, but it does still exist -- I guess in a world of bottoms someone's got to actually get up and do something, and it is hilariously an almost perfectly even split:

service!top Sam: 50.17% (151 votes) service!top Dean: 51.50% (155 votes)

A healthy percentage of people said they didn't care about these questions either way, and more power to them. However, they were wildly outvoted by those who did.

Multishipping Time

Our final categories are when other people get their grubby hands on Sam or Dean, either canonically(ish) or in our fandom activities.

Canonical relationships for Sam

Jess wins, quelle surprise. :) 161 people Dug It and who can blame them.

Amelia LOSES, shocking no one: 112 people said Fuck That.

Eileen was definitely a mixed bag; her results, in order, were: Meh: 92; Fuck that: 76; Worse than meh: 66; Dug it: 44.

Canonical(ish) relationships for Dean

Note here: it was too unbalanced if we only went with people Dean officially dated. However, the show leaned hard into a few unrequited male relationships for him, which we included here, and no one sent me hate about it so I guess that was fine.

Benny wins the Love It! category with 129 votes, barely edging out Cassie at 122. Benny is best boy, so that fits.

Cas loses with a full 99 Fuck That votes, which is probably what we'd expect from a wincest survey. That said, he also got 93 Dug It votes, so it's a pretty balanced showing.

Poor Lisa sits firmly at Meh with 148 votes. It's not that we hate you, Lisa; we just don't really know what to do with you. Which is pretty much how the relationship went in the show.

Shipping Sam like FedEx

We returned to the S/E/I model for shipping as we did for tropes, because it means something very different to go 'oh sure, I can see how that would be interesting' vs saying 'I want them to fuck rawnasty and I don't care why they're doing it.' Apologies if I left out your favorite side-ship but, shit, there's only so much time in the day.

So, we return to the podiums:

Superego:

Ruby (132)

Rowena (121)

Cas (102)

Ego:

Rowena (121)

Cas (106)

Ruby (90)

Id:

Ruby (125)

John (121)

Rowena (118)

So that was going on sedately until Dad came in like a hammer. Fascinating. On the other hand:

No:

Lisa (234)

Donna (222)

Claire (219)

Interesting to me that these three are ladies that Sam theoretically could have got up in but people are not into it, regardless. This is slightly different to Dean's 'no' category -- spoilers for three inches of screen space!

Dean, Shipped by UPS

Superego:

John (129)

Benny (115)

Lisa (99)

Ego:

Benny (134)

John (116)

Lisa (102)

Id:

John (147)

Benny (128)

Crowley (114)

Well. That tells a slightly different story, ahem. Enjoy the various tropes that will be applied, Dean! And then we get:

No:

Amelia (245)

Kevin (223)

Gabriel (217)

Comparing to the Sam 'no' above -- these three are slightly more 'traditional' Sam ships, though the wincest shippers are nevertheless not into them for Sam, either. Dean literally never spoke to or saw Amelia on screen, so it'd be a determined shipper who'd make that happen. Not undoable, though!

Conclusion

Syke: there isn't one to be made. This really shows how diverse the taste is in the wincest community, or at least in the wincest community that a) happened to see this survey over the last five days and b) bothered to take it. This particular group leans slightly toward e.g. toppy Sam, or slightly toward switching, but when you look at raw numbers what you see is that at least one person LOVES every single one of these things, and at least one person fucking HATES every single one of these things, and so -- so what? Write what you want. If you see a niche of something that you love where you feel like not enough people are writing or reading, try to fill it. If you're worried "no one" will like it, well -- you're wrong. Someone will. It just needs to get seen by the right people.

That's where fandom comes in, to spread the love even if something isn't bulletproof for us -- reblogging a post to say, 'hey, my mutual made this thing, look at it!' What a joy it'd be if someone saw it and loved it to absolute shattering bits, and then found their little bulletproof community, and happiness was made. What's the point, if we're not making each other happy.

Thanks for participating if you did, and reading all this if you did. Here's a link to a google sheet (read only) with all the tables of raw data if you're interested. I'll post some of the more entertaining fill-in answers later.

s&d shipping survey results: November 1, 2023 - Google Sheets

[mysticstronomy]

A GALAXY THAT HAS NO STARS??

Blog#381

Wednesday, March 6th, 2024.

Welcome back,

There’s a galaxy out there without apparent stars but largely chock full of dark matter. What’s that you say? A galaxy without stars? Isn’t that an impossibility? Not necessarily, according to the astronomers who found it and are trying to explain why it appears starless. “What we do know is that it’s an incredibly gas-rich galaxy,” said Green Bank Observatory’s Karen O’Neil, an astronomer studying this primordial galactic object. “It’s not demonstrating star formation like we’d expect, probably because its gas is too diffuse.”

O’Neil and a team of colleagues found this odd, seemingly starless object called J0613+52, while they were doing a sky survey. Their target was a set of so-called “Low Surface Brightness” galaxies (LSBG) They used the Green Bank Telescope, the Arecibo Telescope (before its untimely end), and the Nançay Radio Telescope to look at 350 of these dim, diffuse objects. The idea was to survey them and determine their gas content and dynamic masses.

J0613+52 wasn’t one of the team’s original targets. Instead, they stumbled across it while trying to figure out why some of the data from Green Bank and Nançay didn’t match, according to O’Neil. “The GBT was accidentally pointed to the wrong coordinates and found this object,” she explained, noting that this galaxy was new and unknown. There are no galaxies within 112 parsecs, making it a pretty isolated target.

Interestingly, based on their observations, the team found that J0613+52 has about the same characteristics of mass and gas content as a normal spiral. Yet, it has no stars. That poses a mystery they’d like to solve.

The type of galaxy represented by J0613+52 is an odd one when you compare it to the more familiar types such as the star-filled spirals and ellipticals. For one thing, it’s a dwarf galaxy with an irregular shape. Without any obvious stars, it’s quite dim. The most unusual thing about objects like this one is that dark matter appears to dominate their compositions.

If J0613+52 is like others, it could have up to 95 percent dark matter constraining the neutral gaseous hydrogen that we can detect.

So, why no stars in J0613+52? O’Neil describes it as an “unevolved” dwarf. That’s because the neutral hydrogen gas component is too diffuse, and too spread out. LSBG generally have less gravity and that makes it tough to form stars on their own. So, they evolve very gradually. If they do start to convert gas to stars, it takes a long time for that to happen.

Some astronomers suggest that LSBG are late-forming objects in cosmic time. That might explain the presence of this one in relatively “modern” times.

In addition, J0613+52 lies too far from any neighboring galaxies to interact with them gravitationally. That means they can’t trigger star formation through any possible mergers or collisions. “J0613+52 appears to be both undisturbed and underdeveloped,” she said. “This could be our first discovery of a nearby galaxy made up of primordial gas.” That means its gas content is largely unchanged over time.

Originally published www.universetoday.com

COMING UP!!

(Saturday, March 9th, 2024)

"WHAT MAKES A BLACK HOLE GROW NEW STARS FROM??"

[madaqueue]

playlists

broke her daughter's legs in two | "bruno is orange" x hop along

synopsis: geto finds you after the village massacre, but things went differently

pairing: suguru geto x reader

themes/content: semi-canon curse au. angst. language. loss, death, mentions of possible abuse.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: a little angst to get me out of my smut era (jk i have so much more lined up lmao) anyways once again i highly suggest listening to this song while reading :)

“suguru?” you whisper hesitantly to the man standing in your doorway. the moonlight shines through the curtains of your dorm room, illuminating him just enough to make out his figure.

he says nothing, staring blankly ahead.

“what happened?” you ask, rubbing sleep from your eyes. he slowly starts walking towards you, a pit of dread forming in your stomach as he silently approaches your bed.

you shouldn’t be afraid. you know you shouldn’t. he’s your best friend.

but you also know what happened - you had read the report earlier today.

112 villagers died.

not a single person left in the village.

concluded to be that of suguru geto’s curse manipulation.

geto set fire to the village and fled.

subject to execution.

the weight of his body at the end of your bed causes it to sag slightly as he sits next to you. the smell of ash, blood, and death hangs on his clothes.

the cicadas chirp outside your open window, filling the air between you until he takes in a shaky breath, shoulders raising ever so slightly.

“i had to,” he mouths, the words barely audible.

his eyes stare straight ahead, empty.

“had to what?” you prod, gently reaching a hand up to his back. he flinches at your touch.

“i had to save them.”

you wouldn’t understand, he thinks. nobody else will ever understand.

the things he saw in that village, the way they hurt them - the two girls. it wasn’t their fault. and yet, there they were. they put them there. in that fucking cage, like animals.

the young girls begged him, tears in their eyes. “please don’t tell.” “please don’t yell.”

he was good. he knew he was good. he had to save them.

suddenly, the old woman behind him, their captor, spat back at them, “don’t speak. you’re both going to hell.”

he did what a good person should do. he saved them.

the world is not kind to sorcerers - he knew this all too well. especially in places like these, the outskirts of society where sorcery was equated to evil and condemned, they hurt them. they blame them. they punish them. the world is a dangerous place for sorcerers.

as he sits in your bed, he starts to shake. no tears leave his eyes, but his breathing becomes ragged, shoulders heaving as he stares into the distance in front of him, eyes unfocused.

in the quiet of your room, all he hears are the crackles of the flames. he didn’t even hear the screams, the pleas, that fell from their traitorous lips. because he was doing good. he was saving them.

your voice pulls him back to reality slightly, still unable to tune out the ringing of bloodshed from his ears. “suguru,” you murmur, “whatever happened, it’s okay.”

he wants to believe you, he does. he wants to feel your hand stroking his back, but it just feels like everything is a million miles away. he’s watching himself break down in the moonlight of your room. he wants to be good.

“i killed them,” he finally utters.

the words make you flinch, even though you knew they were coming.

“i killed all of them. the entire village.”

“why?” you ask, not wanting but nevertheless needing an answer, an explanation, for what happened.

“i had to save them.”

“save who?”

“the girls.”

a sigh leaves your lips in relief. you knew it, you knew suguru wouldn’t just hurt people. he must have seen them, they must have been hurt, and the only way to help them was to burn the village down. you needed this to be true, to reassure yourself as much as him. you knew he was good.

he was your best friend, after all, and right now he needs you.

you think back to the last time you saw him before this mission, how different things were, the morning he left.

–

the two of you sit on a picnic bench, shaded by one of the trees in the courtyard outside the school. geto holds an orange in his hands, peeling it with a small knife. he was always so careful with things like this, never daring to nick the soft flesh of the fruit, a care he brought with him into every aspect of his life. he was always calculated, a quiet thoughtfulness that came second nature to him.

your eyes trace over his hands before moving up to his face, the dark circles under his eyes a physical manifestation of the exhaustion you had seen growing in him the past few weeks.

“suguru?” you get his attention.

“mhm?” he murmurs, eyes never leaving the orange as he continues working his knife around it.

you sigh, not knowing how he’ll react to the question you’ve been dreading. “are you…are you okay?”

his hands freeze for a moment, body tensing, before he returns to his movement. “mhm,” he affirms.

you want to reach across the table, grab him by the shoulders and yell that you know he’s lying, that he is so clearly and undeniably not okay, that he just needs to talk to you and you’ll do anything you can to help him.

but, of course, you don’t. instead, you tilt your head back as your gaze shifts up to the sky, bright blue through the leaves above you.

“you know,” you start, scanning the branches that shake softly in the wind, “i heard that people used to eat oranges in the morning if they weren’t feeling well, the idea of a fruit-curing fever, something in it warming and soothing. they thought it could heal sickness.”

“mmm,” suguru hums softly. without another word, he splits the orange in two, handing you half. “worth a shot,” he says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

–

remembering him, his kindness and hurt, your body language softens. “that’s okay,” you explain, more at ease now that you know he acted out of compassion. “where are they now, the girls? we can go help them, together.”

geto is silent. his eyes slowly move from the floor up to yours, a new darkness in them.

“suguru…” you start.

he just stares.

“w-what did you do?” you stammer, fear reappearing in the pit of your stomach, your hand freezing in place on his back.

“i saved them.” his voice is low, resigned. “it was too dangerous for them. they couldn’t live in this world, a world built to hate them. i needed to protect them. i needed to help them. and i did,” he pauses to take in a sharp breath between his rambling. “now, they won’t have to live in a world that would hurt them. it was too dangerous. i helped them. i did. i saved them.”

as he talks himself in circles, his grasp on everything becomes undone. he loses himself in his words, the mantra he so desperately clung to, the one he needed to say until he believed it.

he was good. he saved them.

your eyes widen as the realization sets in: the girls are dead. just like everyone else in the village. just like the reports said.

as he babbles out the same explanation, shock takes over your body. you can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t move, the only words leaving your mouth are “it’s okay,” over and over again, the sounds mixing with his in your room, chaos swirling in the night air as you both drift away from this reality.

“it’s okay” “i protected them” “it’s okay” “i helped them” “it’s okay” “i saved them” “it’s okay”

suddenly, your body jolts forward as you sit up in bed. the action surprises suguru into silence as he watches you, eyes following your every move as you walk to the small kitchen in your dorm room, taking an orange out of a bowl that sits on the counter.

you shove your thumb under the thick peel, tearing at the flesh of the fruit as you pull it apart in strips. juice leaks down between your fingers and drips onto the counter. holding the fruit in your palm, your bare feet carry you back to suguru. holding out a hand, you both sit in silence and eat the orange.

your voice is raspy and worn as you speak to him.

“you saved them.”

[hillsidepacks]

(PUBLIC COMMISSION)  click on the source linkto find 112 medium, textless gifs of the actress dove cameron in the cosmopolitan interview. all these gifs were made and coloured by me from scratch so i’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t post them as your own or make them into gif icons without credit. please like and/or reblog if this helped you in any way and last but not least enjoy !  

content/trigger warning: none.

[gwldcnz]

hello everyone!!! for those who may not know me, i'm calie and in the last year i have dedicated myself to making resources for rps whenever i can. i've been unemployed and for over 13 years relying on my meds that currently cost between $190 (R$1,000) and $240 (R$ 1,300) per month, taking in consideration that minimum wage per month here in brazil is $261 (R$1,412) and i rarely get any freelancer job, that won't cover even 15% of my meds. so with a lot of shame, i depend on my parents to keep up my treatment that cannot be discontinued. my city is broken, has no jobs, and i currently have no conditions to move and start over somewhere else. besides, my city had been once of the cities hit by the big flood in brazil for over a month, which made finding a job even more difficult, since establishments are trying to recover from losses. in these last few months, despite needing money, i've been feeling emotionally exhausted and worried with the situation (of expenses and the tragedy in my state), that i simple cannot focus in any project, therefore not being able to take in commissions (that helped me a lot). with all of that being said, i decided to come here, very ashamed, and expose my situation to offer packs of all my sources that i've done in my time as a creator. if you can help me buying any pack, or a ko-fi (source link), that would immensely help in my situation and i'd be really REALLY grateful. under the "read more" are more details about the packs and pricing.

*se você for brasileiro e desejar adquirir algum conteúdo meu separadamente ou pack, me chame na dm!

pack psd templates & graphics: 12 psd character templates; 15 psd dash icons templates; psd graphics (enchanted = 2 promo banners; parker = 4 promo banners; carnival). [ link here ] $18

pack colorings: 22 colorings (corrects reddish, bluish, yellowish, greenish, dark and whitewashing scenes when adjusted). [ link here ] $18

pack gifs (gif icons & gif packs): [ link here ] $26

GIF ICONS FCS

elle fanning (180 gifs) evan lin (110 gifs) hong joshua (302 gifs) jeon somi (183 gifs) jonny beauchamp (410 gifs) kim chungha (222 gifs) kim hyunah (124 gifs) kim woosung (152 gifs) kwon eunbi (142 gifs) lee junho (150 gifs) park heesoon (153 gifs) yeo hwanwoong (156 gifs) zhu zhengting (86 gifs)

GIF PACKS FCS

amanda seyfried (200 gifs) angelina jolie (83 gifs) caterina scorsone (241 gifs) cho hwiseo (136 gifs) courtney ford (220 gifs) faouzia ouihya (63 gifs) freema agyeman (109 gifs) harry potter & the philosopher's stone (just the scenarios, creatures and spells - 136 gifs) hwang yeji (201 gifs) jenna ortega (312 gifs) jessica capshaw (314 gifs) ji changmin / q (325 gifs) j.r. bourne (205 gifs) jun hyoseong (135 gifs) kang daniel (180 gifs) kate winslet (270 gifs) katrina law (118 gifs) kim taehyung (148 gifs) lee sunmi (136 gifs) lim jaebeom / jb / jayb (348 gifs) margot robbie (47 gifs) milla jovovich (280 gifs) nilsu aktas (106 gifs) nina dobrev (135 gifs) paul adelstein (239 gifs) sarah drew (308 gifs) stefania spampinato (112 gifs) vanessa ray #01 (681 gifs) wu jiayi (43 gifs) zee pruk (402 gifs) zhou jieqiong / kyulkyung (166 gifs)

mega pack (all contents of all the packs above - psd templates & graphics, colorings and gifs): [ link here ] $36

thank you very much for your attention. my askbox and dm are open for any questions!

[cocktailjjrs]

So, Chapter 112 is out.

We don't exactly get much of explanation or distinction from S5 ending ep.

Mori, he really just glued in the fangs for FUN! What even is the Mafia! (Plus, Dazai Laughed!) We had old man Yaoi. I am not going to talk about it as we already know what went down there. We got Kunikida, Atsushi and Tanizaki. And Gogol man being sad (it broke my heart again to see his reaction). Ngl, even i would be sad if someone killed my Situationship But not Chuuya calling out that Situationship, lol (That was my exact reaction when a friend of mine told me she was in one and how it works) SKK bickering, still. And Fukuzawa being handed the greatest responsibility.

All in all, everything we had seen so far, only an added reaction here and there.

Next chapter will most likely also follow through the rest of the episode. But nothing much is left, so chances are that we may get new content. Or latest by April.

This all seems well and good, but I'm suddenly feeling anxious about how things are going to progress further.

I've said time and again, BSD takes 'it can't get worse than this' phase and just proves it wrong again and again. We reach new rock-bottoms every time.

So, things looking up now, gives me anxiety that something is going to go horribly wrong. (Cue the flashback of the 'Two hours later' bit)

All things that can horribly go wrong:

Everything with Soukoku at Meursault. I find it so weird that we are not getting detailed explanation of how things are proceeding there. We have seen Dazai and Fyodor play mind games for so many arcs now, there is always an explanation at the end of each one. But this doesn't have that 'satisfactory' level of explanation yet. Yes, Chuuya again came to Dazai's aid, but how? How did Dazai knew that the Vampires were turned in his favor. Would killing Fyodor (if he actually is dead) really be wise? How is he sure that it was Fyodor plan all along to get killed and he played right into it? You know when things are kept ambiguous, as most things related to Prison break arc are, it means there will be some facts that will come in light later. And that's what I'm scared of because it can be anything! It does not help that Dazai is yet to take that antidote! What if it doesn't work? What is Nikolai goes for revenge? Since he love's loosing himself and that's why he fought, so what if he continues? Can Chuuya's gravity manipulation even be effective against someone like Gogol? He can just go from one place to another, dodge all of Chuuya's attacks. We also know he can use his ability with Dazai as long as he isn't touching him. What is he takes the antidote form the case before Dazai can take it? That makes him such a kryptonite for Soukoku.

Then we have,

The Shin soukoku's battle against whatever that (Fukuchi) was. Two hours, if you think about it is not a long duration of time for things to start fucking up suddenly. There must be something already laid in waiting for it to start going shit when time comes. We are yet to get the details of how the Vampirism is going to wear off. Because it does, Akutagawa was back to normal when he was fighting with Atsushi. Sskk teaming up is well and good, but can they stand against that being? They had a hard time dealing with Fukuchi only a while ago, this enhanced being will be much tougher than them. What if this also is set for failure? only for the world to be purged into more chaos? Maybe i'm being a bit to pessimistic, but i've lost confidence in the mangaka's they always do the unexpected and kill everyone's favs, fr.

That also makes me think

Will taking on the role of Mankind's leader, lead to Fukuzawa on a deeper end? We know he struggled earlier, before founding agency, with his assassination work. He had refused to work in the war for a reason. Won't this be undoing everything he's worked for so many years? Also, taking in that honor from their government (or officials, i don't exactly remember what it was. I'm talking about the appreciation symbol of katana'?' they received at the beginning of S4) that basically led them to take on that case that declared them terrorists. Won't taking the role of Mankind's Leader also make Fukuzawa susceptible to be declared as the Mankind's Enemy? This seems similar to that previous situation. Reminds me of how Ranpo called this responsibility, or last wish, a curse. And Ranpo is always right, so there's that. Maybe that's how they are going to introduce the next adversaries?

Too much uncertainty and what-ifs.

[akumicchi]

𝔗𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔡.

112 prayers

A hopeful message with no destination.

You will never be too heavy for me.

Content: angst, breakdown, hints of depression. Suguru's POV. OC appearance.

I smelled it before I saw it. I felt it before I heard it; the presence, the humming. I had never entertained the idea of time travel. No one could actually predict a forced turn in the highway of time, even if Back to the Future made it look so comical. Despite that, I found myself basking in that presence, in that humming, and let it drive me off to when I was a child: innocent and safe.

“Mom?”, hoarse. Silence. A knot of guilt tightened itself up inside my chest. ‘Don’t go’.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”, there weren't the walls of my room around me, no posters, no bookshelves nor pictures. In fact, there was no room at all. Just an open field I didn't know, somewhere I couldn't remember. I wasn't curled against my mother either. It was just Hogo, and it made me more at ease than expected.

Not being alert in a strange place was a punch to my instincts, but I couldn't bring myself to care aside from a simple:

“Where are we?”

“We’re at school. I carried you here, remember?”, oh yes. She and her stupidly strong arms. “You fell asleep though, so you probably don't”. 

I did remember not wanting to come, earlier that day. The air had felt like lead for the entire … month?, weighing heavy on my lungs with each breath. Every layer of clothing was a tight rope made of rubber. It didn't matter how much I tried to fight the dark clouds, they only grew thicker and tighter. It was exhausting. It'd be way easier to just give into the misery. ‘Ah… everyone would be so disappointed to see me like this, choosing the easy way. But I can't carry this and pretend anymore’. So I hid from sewing fake smiles on my face. I just wanted to drown in the pain without witnesses.

Despite that, I let her in.

“C'mon, I want to show you something.”

“I don't really feel like walking anywhere right now”, it had been four days since Tsukumo Yuki talked to me on that very bench, and left me with more thoughts than I could manage. I needed quiet. “Maybe next time”.

Hogo crouched in front of me. Her voice was soft, the one she used when talking to kids. “Please, it won't be long, I promise. We go and then we come back. You will like it”, her eyes were clouded with worry, she looked pretty like that too, “You don't even have to walk if you don't want to”.

“Hmm? How come? You can teleport now, too?”, I cocked a brow, feeling the slight tug of a smile against my will. ‘The things she makes me do’. Her hands closed and opened for a second. She wanted to hug me, and the realization of this loud and clumsy girl being so mindful around me made my chest ache. 

“Well, I'll show you if you agree to come with me”, she sang quietly with a spray of confidence.

I was so eager to get an answer to these haunting questions. Haibara’s response was as simple as his own mind. Tsukumo Yuki’s, on the other hand… It was complicated. Or maybe it wasn't? Maybe I had made my choice? But what if I was wrong? How could I know? What would she say? I wanted her thoughts, a piece of her mind to tell me…anything.

‘But not now’. The scent from her neck lulled my senses quiet. The tree leaves above our heads were kind enough to shield us from the summer afternoon. Hogo’s hand traced my skin, untangling my worries stroke by stroke. My legs were folded on her lap, and the vague memory of being cradled this way made me feel so innocent. Too warm to think. Too soft. Too comfortable.

She had a book propped up against my thigh. It was open roughly around the middle.

“What are you reading?” 

“112 prayers at midnight”, she hummed, eyes not leaving the pages.

“That's an odd number of prayers”.

“Yeah. It's a story about a non-believer trapped in a time loop trying to save his loved ones after losing them to a mistake… He prays every time for the loop to restart.”

“For a non believer he surrendered fast… At least he has a second chance”.

Silence settled between us. A few seconds later she spoke again.

“Hum, I thought about that too, ‘To pray for time to go back, it's so unfair’. But as twisted as it is, I just can't stop reading. Maybe I'll be surprised”.

“Who’s that god that answers at the first call? That's a real surprise. I'd like to meet him”, that was a slip. My throat tightened and by no means I expected how broken I actually sounded.

Her arms held me closer. When she pressed her lips against my forehead, a sob almost broke through every wall I had built.

“Me too”.

Stop being like this. Don't hold me, don't carry me somewhere calm, don't kiss me so softly. Stop making me feel so small! I don't want the sun, I don't want the breeze, I don't want clouds, or words, or songs, or flowers; I don't want any of it!!

“Shh… it's okay, I've got you”.