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chosai · 5 days

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MISS COMMUNICATION — GOJO SATORU.

SYNOPSIS. just as you were beginning to believe that you were simply incapable of finding love, fate had other plans for you in the form of an app called heartchat.

DETAILS. s2l + office au TAGS. 18+ content mdni! quick paced, phone sex, public sex, cunnilingus, rough sex, overstimulation, annoying ex WC. 14.6k

SORA'S NOTE. a repost from my old writing blog! def one of my longer works so far (and one of my favs)! also note that this is also inspired from the manwha "superstitious nine".

THROUGHOUT YOUR TWENTY SEVEN YEARS of living, it was fair to say that you had little to no luck with men, although it was something that you’ve long grown accustomed to, or at least, tried to. Usually, it would’ve been easy to shrug off your misfortunes by telling yourself that you’d only be saving yourself from further disappointment, but nowadays, it’s gotten harder to ignore the vexatious turmoil steadily building up within your chest while you watch all your friends, one by one, get their happy ending and starting their families with their first love. You’d only gotten into three relationships, however none of them turned out successful – your first one being in your last year of highschool and your second being in your first year of college – none of which lasted more than a few months and kiss on the lips was the furthest thing you’d gotten. However, if your first two relationships disappointed you, then your third one would be a complete understatement.

Zen’in Naoya was a man of many facades, and you were a fool to believe that there’d be good in any of them.

Zen’in Naoya, heir of the ZEN corporate, also known as the general manager of your silly office job, was popular amongst the ladies for his good looks and charisma. The mere mention of his name gave a sour taste on your tongue. If you could describe this man in one single word, it would be suffocating. Beneath that charismatic exterior of his was a serpent ready to pounce on his prey when it was the time he deemed as fit.

In your pathetic, desperate attempt to chase after the love that you yearned for, you believed that he loved you. You believed that he loved you despite keeping your relationship a secret, his excuse being that he couldn’t allow himself to be seen romantically with a commoner. You believed that he still loved you when he’d act as if you were invisible as he entertained the other female workers. You believed that he still loved you when he’d sneak jealous glances towards you while you spoke with your other male coworkers. You believed his sweet, empty lies and you always ate them all up as if they were candy. Being with him felt suffocating – the mere idea of being kept as his secret lover, his toy – it was too much for you to bear, wishing for something more with someone who’d easily toss you to the side after playing with your emotions.

A damned fool, that’s what you were. If present you could smack past you, you would’ve and made sure that it left a warm, red print on it, too.

It was about time that you ended things with the Zen’in heir, after being involved with the snake for six months. If someone were to ask you why you hadn’t left earlier, you wouldn’t be able to tell them – not that anyone would ask anyways, your relationship with that man was something that you’d keep to your grave, entertaining him for half a year straight was already too humiliating to bear.

You shook your head rapidly as if it could swat those inappropriate and intrusive thoughts away from your mind. ‘It’s wrong to be thinking about these damn things during your best friend’s wedding, get a grip of yourself!’

Your fingers danced around the empty wine glass, your other palm resting on the sides of your cheeks as your gaze surveyed the reception hall. The music was blaring and you could make out the sight of your best friend, Riko, having the best time of her life dancing with her newly wedded husband. You cracked a small smile at the sight. She looked absolutely beautiful in the gown, and she definitely shone the brightest in the room. She glanced over to you, smiling widely as she blew multiple kisses and hearts your way and you laughed at Riko's adorable burst of energy.

You returned your attention to your empty wine glass, silently contemplating whether or not you should get a third glass.

“Y/N, babe, what are you doing out here drinking alone?” Ren, one of the bridesmaids – and one of your childhood friends, chimed in. You jumped a little at her sudden appearance, and then you followed with a light giggle. “It’s been a while since I drank something, I was honestly craving for some wine.”

“Is it just cravings?” She questioned, leaning towards you with her palm propped against her cheek and she stared at you intently. “You usually don’t enjoy drinking alone when you’re bothered about something. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Am I that easy to read?” You complained jokingly.

Ren rolled her eyes at your response before grinning. “Yes. Now spill.”

“I recently ended things with someone,” you said, keeping it fairly vague. “I just wish I did it sooner, you know? Instead of making a fool out of myself…”

Right after you said that, you could tell that she wanted to know who the mystery man was but she relented. For a minute she stayed silent, and it seemed like she was trying to formulate the right words in her brain and 50 different combinations.

“He already sounds like a pretty shitty guy,” Ren muttered under her breath before glancing back up at you with curious eyes, “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what do you plan on doing next? Like, do you plan on being sad forever or…?”

“Being sad forever sounds good enough to me,” you joked, only to receive a light smack on the shoulder.

“Bad!” Ren laughed before pausing once more. “Anyways, I was just about to ask you if you were okay with trying something new. I think it could, you know, be entertaining for you.”

“New? And what do you mean entertaining—?”

“—Give me your phone, and I’ll show you!”

You were getting curious now. Raising a brow, you handed her your phone and she snatched it away from your grasp while cackling evilly. Minutes later, she handed you your phone and all that you could make out is a bright pink background and a heart in the middle. HeartChat, it reads. “What’s this supposed to be?” You questioned your friend.

“It’s something fun,” she replied, laughing giddily. “After work, when you get home, have some beer – and once you feel yourself getting drunk, use the app that I downloaded before you go to bed. Got it?”

“This looks a lot like tinder,” you remarked, not looking very convinced with your friend’s words. You weren’t the type to use dating apps, after all.

“I promise you, you’ll be far more entertained.” Ren winked.

The blaring sound of your alarm resonated across the room, and you emitted a heavy, gruff sigh. Seven o’clock, it reads on your bright phone screen. You continued to stare at the screen for a couple more seconds, your body feeling lethargic and overall heavy from fatigue. You shouldn’t have left the reception so late. Groaning in disdain, you forced yourself up from the comfort of your bed and began your morning routine. It was around seven forty five when you finished, and with quick fingers, you grabbed your work ID, wallet and keys and shoved them into your bag before rushing outside your apartment. The walk to the nearest bus stop should take around four minutes, you thought to yourself.

Myriads of thoughts slipped in your mind as you walked closer to your bus stop, ready to consume you whole. You hadn’t seen Naoya for a week already since the day you left him, and needless to say that week had been one of the most peaceful weeks you’ve ever had since stepping foot in that workplace.

Sighing, you sat down on the bench and fixed the hem of your pencil skirt. Glancing at the time on your phone, seven-fifty, it read. The bus should be arriving very soon.

It was eight-ten when you arrived at work, and you rushed across the building — making a beeline towards the elevator.

Just as the elevator was about to close, a hand peeks out through the gaps, thus the elevator opening and it took all your self-control to stop yourself from scowling.

“It’s been a while,” Naoya walked in, feigning a smile. “It’s been a week, Mr. Zen’in.” you returned the smile.

The elevator closes, leaving you confined with the man you desperately wanted to avoid. He turns his head slightly to face you, his eyes boring into yours. There was an uncomfortable tension lingering in the thick air. It seemed like he had many things to say to you but he relented, and you’d rather he keep it that way.

You looked away from the man, grabbing your phone in your bag. You pretended to scroll through your phone to pass the time.

After what it seemed like an eternity, the door to your floor opened and you rushed to your desk.

The Zen’in heir followed suit, heading towards his office. You could hear the whispers from your colleagues, theorizing as to where he might’ve gone in the previous week. You continued to set up your desk. You could honestly care less about the man’s business, though.

The rest of the morning was spent with you answering phone calls, typing, printing out papers, organizing files – the usual, might you add. Occasionally you’d stare at Ren’s empty desk and silently make wishes that she’d just appear – you already knew that she was probably having the time of her life sleeping in on her day off.

It was already time for your lunch break, if it weren’t for your two coworkers practically dragging you out of your desk you would’ve actually continued working until evening.

“Y/N, you gonna join us for dinner and drinks next weekend?” Your coworker, Haruto, questioned. You chewed on your lunch silently, thinking of an answer while he and Hirumi. waited with an eager expression. “I’m down,” you replied before teasing your friend, “is it going to be on you?”

“You wish,” Haruto rolled his eyes before taking a bite out of the onigiri he bought from the cafeteria, “boss said that everything’s going to be on him.”

You paused briefly. “That’s a first.”

“Right? This is the first time he’s actually gone out to join us for dinner. All it took was for Emi to invite him and he actually agreed.” Himari added.

A part of you wanted to turn around and tell them that you had plans, but a part of you already knew that there really was no point avoiding Zen’in Naoya. He was your boss after all, and as long as he didn’t give you a hard time at work, you were content. You were sure that even after you ended your questionable relationship with him, he’d still act indifferent. It was already a given that his status and reputation were the two most important things to him, so you convinced yourself that acting as if nothing had happened was the best possible solution.

��Hi,” a sudden voice caught your attention and you quickly glanced up from your meal to meet gazes with Emi, your new colleague. You remembered when she was first introduced, she was immediately loved by everyone due to her kind and bubbly nature despite the young woman being a little clumsy at her job. She appeared shy in front of your presence and she gave you a soft smile. “Can I join you guys?”

“Yes, yes! Come sit with us!” Haruto replied, almost immediately and almost too enthusiastically. Emi took a seat next to him and she exchanged polite greetings with everyone.

“Emi, just curious, how did you manage to bring Mr. Zen’in along? This is actually the first time he’s ever agreed to come join us for dinner and drinks.” Himari asked almost immediately and Emi’s cheeks were flushed a pale pink, surprised at her sudden question. You almost felt bad for Emi, watching her immediately getting put on the spot by your friend. Himari had always been the curious and nosy type, always needing some fresh gossip or anything to satiate her curiosity.

“I didn’t know about that,” she replied, laughing shyly before locking eyes with yours. “When I asked him while we were getting coffee, he agreed immediately. But now that Himari told me that, I’m just as surprised.”

“Also,” Emi said, “Y/N, are you going to come too?”

You nodded your head in response while you took a small sip from your water bottle.

“That’s great!” She clasped her hands together. “This would be both Y/N and Mr. Zen'in’s first time joining for dinner and drinks, then!”

You raised a brow at this. The way she put so much emphasis on you and your boss seemed a little uncanny – and you weren’t going to ignore the way she looked at you when she talked about him, either. You waved it off, though. Perhaps you were overthinking things and still felt somewhat cautious around the topic of your ex — if it was even right to be considered one, as embarrassing as that sounded.

After all, she was the flower of the office.

“Yeah, our Y/N’s been too much of a hard worker.” Haruto added before turning over to you, too. “I’m even surprised that you agreed. Imagine if you didn’t go – that would’ve been the third time this year.”

“She is someone that I look up to a lot,” Emi said briefly, giving you a soft smile. Not long after, she excused herself from the table. You silently watched her figure disappear the farther she walked. You glanced at the time on your phone and you sighed softly, you were going to have to return soon.

It was nearing seven in the evening when you arrived back at your apartment, immediately plopping down onto your couch and grabbing your phone. For several minutes, you boredly scrolled through your phone before you suddenly remembered what Ren had told you last night: “After work, when you get home, have some beer – and once you feel yourself getting drunk, use the app that I downloaded before you go to bed. Got it?”

After changing into your pajamas and bringing your can of beer with some pork cutlet along with some dessert, you plopped back down on the couch. Opening the app on the phone, you raised your brows at your phone being bombarded with pink hearts before revealing the introduction page.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚WELCOME TO HEARTCHAT˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

if you're looking for a little bit of spice, you have come to the right place!

before proceeding with the app, please confirm your age and date of birth: [date]/[month]/[year]

You followed the instructions, and surprisingly, that was all it took for you finish making your profile — if it was even considered to be one. There was no name, no profile picture, or no biography asked. "Interesting," you muttered to yourself as you explored the app.

Not even a minute later, your phone pinged.

M 0524454: you married?

proceed to chatroom?

yes | no

Not even a hello? You decided to ignore the message, taking another sip out of the beer can. You turned the television on, watching a drama that Hirumi once recommended you while you ate your pork cutlet bowl. It wasn't until nearly twenty minutes that you received another text, and this time you could only stare at your screen in pure confusion and disbelief.

M 0497205: ntmy, hoay

proceed to chat room?

yes | no

"What the hell do those even mean?" You mumbled to yourself, staring at the screen with heavy eyelids as you declined the person's request. Looking at all those abbreviations were about to give you one hell of a headache, combined with the beer.

M 0529485: age?

proceed to chatroom?

yes | no

"Entertaining, my ass." You muttered as you pressed your cool palms against your flushed cheeks, swiftly declining the person's request to chat. At this point, you were beginning to question why Ren downloaded this app on your phone in the first place. There was nothing entertaining except for the confusing text abbreviations appearing on the screen.

Just as you were about to close the app and call it a night, your phone pinged once more.

M 0337411: Hello.

proceed to chatroom?

yes | no

'He speaks normally,' you thought to yourself, your finger hovering over the 'yes' option. 'If this person's not any good, I'll delete the app.'

F 0236113: Hello.

M 0337411: Have you eaten dinner, yet?

'Oh, he's polite and formal too!' You grinned, and you got yourself more comfortable on the couch -- laying on your stomach as your feet dangled in the air. You took a bite out of your kikufuku, munching happily as you texted the stranger.

F 0236113: I just had some pork cutlet. What about you?

M 0337411: That's funny. I also had pork cutlet for dinner.

M 0337411: I'm eating kikufuku right now for dessert.

F 0236113: No way. That's crazy because I'm also eating kikufuku.

M 0337411: Imagine if we have the same flavour too

F 0236113: Okay in three seconds we'll tell each other the flavour of our kikufuku

F 0236113: Zunda and cream

M 0337411: Zunda and cream

M 0337411: It appears we have something in common.

You giggled a little, feeling your cheeks flush even more, unknowing if it was from the beer or from the excitement of clicking so quickly with a stranger -- or both.

F 0236113: Can I ask you something then?

F 0236113: Which do you prefer: shoyu or tonkotsu ramen?

M 0337411: Tonkotsu.

F 0236113: I prefer tonkotsu, too.

F 0236113: I promise i'm not copying you.

M 0337411: Let me make sure.

M 0337411: Do you like dorayaki or warabi mochi?

F 0236113: Warabi mochi. Especially with the syrup!

M 0337411: Ah, me too. The syrup makes everything better.

M 0337411: I wasn't trying to copy you either.

F 0236113: Would you consider yourself to be a sweets type of person?

M 0337411: I'd consider myself one, yes. I mostly eat sweets because they stimulate my brain.

F 0236113: I think sweets also gives me the same effects. They help especially when I’m working late.

M 0337411: You sure you're not copying me this time?

F 0236113: I'm not!!

M 0337411: Hard boiled egg or soft boiled egg?

F 0236113: Soft boiled

M 0337411: Soft boiled

F 0236113: Hot soba vs cold soba?

M 0337411: Cold

F 0236113: Cold!

You kicked your legs in the air, giggling. Who could've expected that you'd have so many things in common with a stranger. You continued to text the stranger for what it seemed like an hour, or two. Any remnants of fatigue from work had evaporated like water.

F 0236113: What else do you like?

M 0337411: Can I say something a little strange then?

F 0236113: Sure, what is it?

The stranger didn't text right away, this time. It was silent on your end for almost two minutes. You were about to open your second can of beer until you heard your phone ping.

M 0337411: I like phone sex.

M 0337411: Do you want to try having phone sex with me?

You almost choked on your spit, staring at the screen with wide eyes. If your cheeks had gotten any more hotter, it definitely wouldn't have been caused by the beer at all. Phone sex. Has this man gone mad? Your stomach churned a little and you felt your heart rate steadily increasing. You could only stare at his response, completely flabbergasted. Was this was Ren meant by entertaining?

F 0236113: Sure, why not?

However, it wasn't like you hated it. You were unsure if the main source of your arousal was from the beer or simply from the excitement you felt towards engaging in such acts with a man whose face you've never seen -- let alone know their name. Nevertheless, you didn't want to miss this chance. It was thrilling.

His response was almost immediate, your phone ringing against the oak table -- the sound of the app's ringtone playing repeatedly as you slowly brought your phone to your ear and pressed 'answer'.

"Hello?" A deep, baritone voice filled the silence and you swore if your cheeks weren't burning hot before -- they definitely were now. His voice was definitely your type.

"H-Hello," you stammered, an immediate wave of shyness hitting you.

"Your voice," he began, "were you drinking?"

"How did you know?" You questioned him. Was it that obvious?

"You're stalling your words a little bit.” He commented before, a soft laugh leaving his lips soon after.

Stop. Even his laugh is sexy.

“I-Is that so?”

“Yeah,” he replied, “your voice sounds really good. It’s cute, too.”

'It's cute, too'

You felt your body heat up even more. Something about his voice made you feel like melting in a pool of your own heat -- perhaps it was the way he drags his voice, or perhaps it was because of how deep his voice is, or perhaps it was the way he sounded like he came out of a porno or drama CD -- and as much as you hated to admit it, it was so obvious that this stranger had reduced you into a horny and nervous mess.

"I like your voice too," you confessed.

"Oh? Is that right?"

"Yes."

You could hear the man chuckle a little before speaking again, "You'll hear much more of it very soon."

You blushed even more at his words. Was this man teasing you?

“Then, where are you right now?” He questioned.

“Um, I’m on my couch right now in the living room.” You replied back to the man.

“The couch is pretty boring, don’t you think?”

“What makes you say that? I personally think it’s pretty comfy.”

"I do too, but the space's pretty narrow for you to be thrashing around while I fuck you, no?”

“T-that’s true,” you stammer out. You were really going to melt right there and then.

“Let’s move to the bed, then.”

The moment you stood up from your couch, you thought you were going to fall right back down. You could practically hear your heart beating through your ears, growing louder and louder, as you neared the bedroom.

"Are you nervous?" The man questioned you.

"Just a little bit," you confessed, "I've never done this before."

"It'll be okay. Just give me the red light, and we'll stop. Sounds good?"

You hummed in response as you entered your room and plopped down your bed.

"I'm guessing you're on the bed now."

"Hm, that's right."

Your ears flushed red when you heard the man’s breath hitch in his throat.

“Well then, want to take your pants off?”

“Actually,” you giggle, “I’m not wearing pants right now.”

“Haah, fuck.” The man groaned from the opposite line. “You’re doing this on purpose, huh?”

“Why won’t you strip out of your shirt then, princess? Do it nice and slow for me.”

You placed your phone down on the nightstand, and you followed the man’s instructions; slow hands the hem of your shirt before you pulled it over your head — you were practically naked now, all that was left were your panties.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice breathless.

“It’s your turn,” you said breathlessly, “to take off your shirt.”

“As you wish.”

You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and pressed it against your ear, you could faintly hear the man unbuttoning his shirt before it dropped down to the ground, and lewd thoughts immediately came rushing into your mind, the heat pooling between your legs becoming even more unbearable.

“Anything else you want me to do?”

“Take off your pants,” you ordered, your voice quiet.

You could hear shuffling on the other end once more, your imagination running wild as the sounds of the belt unbuckling and dropping to the floor resonated in your ear as if it was a mild echo. He must be tall, judging from how long it took off his clothes. You closed your eyes, imagining that you were there with him, watching as he stripped out of his clothes in front of you.

“I’m all naked now,” the man finally said.

A soft moan slipped past your lips almost immediately after he uttered those words, your hips involuntary bucked against the mattress.

“Does my voice turn you on?” He questions you in a teasing tone, but it was evident that he was just as affected as you were.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice breathless.

“Your voice is a huge turn on for me too,” said the man, “turns me on so much that I wanted to things like this the moment I heard your voice.”

How could he sound so composed? You attempted to stifle a small whine — his voice and your imaginations were driving your senses wild. Despite being all alone in your bedroom, you swore that you could feel strong hands trailing their way down your body, travelling lower and lower.

“Now then,” he began, “put your hand in your panties and softly rub your clit for me.”

With shaking hands, you followed his commands in concupiscent obedience, slipping your right hand into your panties and rubbing the sensitive bud with your pointer and middle finger.

“Mhhm, aah.” You were already breathless, despite it merely being the beginning. You could hear the faint noises of the male jerking off in the other line, his soft groans were music to your ears.

“I need more,” you panted, “I wan’ more.”

“Take off your panties, then, and continue rubbing that pretty pussy of yours with more pressure.”

The speed you took your panties off was almost embarrassing, knowing that a stranger — whose name and whose face you’ve never seen before — managed to reduce you into a desperate mess with just his voice. Plopping your back down on the bed, you spread your legs wide as your hand slowly returned to the sensitive bud.

Your soft moans of wanton filled the room, only getting louder from hearing the man groan. You imagined him on top of you, his breath hot in your ear — as he rubs your clit greedily with his large hands. You could feel your body growing lighter the more you continued with the assault on your clit. The pressure in your abdomen continued to build up, and your moans were raising in volume — sounding more lewder. You were getting closer to your orgasm, the sounds of the stranger playing with his cock along with his soft groans were itching you closer and closer to your release.

“I-I’m so close,” you let out a small whimper, bucking your hips desperately against your hand.

“Put your two fingers in,” the stranger said, almost in a pleading tone, “make yourself come like that, sweet girl. Imagine it’s me stretching that tiny hole of yours.”

You complied, inserting two fingers into your sopping wet cunt, sucking them in almost immediately. The wet sound of your pussy taking your fingers in made the man moan almost immediately.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Is that all for me, huh?”

You could only moan in response, your hips thrusting into your hands, trying to reach deeper.

“Go faster.”

You listened to him and you picked up the pace, the pressure building up in your abdomen steadily increasing the closer you got to your orgasm. The sounds of your sopping cunt filled the room, together with the sounds of your needy moans and whimpers as you went faster and faster. In your pornographic imagination, his large fingers replaced yours — toying with your hole as his other hand played with your nipple. “Mhhm,” you arched your back, “I’m so so close, please—Ah!”

“Keep going princess, and don’t you dare stop.”

As if his words had cast a spell on you, your pace increased and your moans gotten even louder. Your imagination getting more and more vivid by the second.

"I'm cumming -- I'm cumming!" you babbled out, crying out in a desperate moan as you arched your back, letting your orgasm wash over you.

“You’re such a good fucking girl,” the man groaned out, and you replied with a soft laugh through your heavy breathing.

“I’m so close,” he spoke through heavy breaths, “get on your knees and raise your ass up for me.”

You followed his words, adjusting your position on the soft mattress so that your chest was pressed against the mattress and your ass high up in the air. You could feel warm hands travelling down your back and up to your breast -- Fuck, you were sensitive all over.

"Oh, how I'd love to fuck you like this." He said, chuckling lowly as he breathed heavily. "Make yourself cum for me, again. Think about my cock fucking your pussy."

You moan at his lewd words, your hips bucking up as you entered your two fingers back into your sopping hole. Your fingers weren't enough to stretch you out. You wanted more. You needed more. Your hips thrusted back against your fingers, hungry for more friction. Scenarios of the stranger fucking you played in your mind like it was a porno movie, you could imagine his nails gripping into your hips, his cock reducing you into a dumb mess.

"Ahh-- Fuckk.. By the way you're moaning right now, I can tell that you're close to coming. I-I'm getting close too -- Ah. Let's cum together. Tell me when you're cumming, please."

There was a certain strain in the stranger’s voice as his pace on his cock quickened, his voice breathy and low as he muttered a jumble of praises. At this point, you felt yourself growing even more lightheaded while another moan leaves your drooling lips.

“I’m gonna cum,” you told the man in a breathless whimper, and you could hear the sound of fapping quickening in response to your words.

“Cum for me.”

And just like that, your mind went completely blank as you came in your hand. A muffled moan escaped your lips, your face pressed into the pillows.

The man lets out the most sexiest moan soon after, almost whimpering as he rode out his orgasm.

There was a minute of silence between you both, shaky breaths filling the room as you both attempted to control it. You rolled onto your back, staring at your hand which was drenched in your juices.

“How do you feel?” He later broke the silence, and you let out a soft laugh. “Really good,” you told him, “I enjoyed it a lot.”

“That’s good, I really liked it too.”

“You know,” you began, “you talk super differently on call compared to how you text.”

“Oh? You don’t like it? I thought you liked it.”

“I-I never said I didn’t like it!” You retorted. “It was just an honest observation.”

“Anyway,” you continued, “I’ve got to go now, it’s getting late now and I have work tomorrow…”

“Alright then,” replied the man, “but can we call again?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

It was a new day with same, old, usual routine. Groggily getting up from your bed as the sounds of the alarm blaring from your phone resonates athwart your bedroom. As if your body was set into auto-pilot, the rest of the early morning spent preparing for work turned into a blur, and it wasn't until now--while commuting to work--that you could feel your phone vibrating in your hand.

M 0337411: Good morning. Did you sleep well?

Oh.

Memories from last night suddenly came rushing in, and you never wanted anything more than to crawl into a hole and stay there, and rot for the rest of eternity. A warm incarnadine flush returns to your cheeks as you recollect the events that passed, the sheer embarrassment washing over you; the images of you -- evidently drunk, horny, and naked on your bed--engaging with such dirty acts with a stranger over the phone. A stranger.

It took almost everything in you to not scream in embarrassment in the bus, your palms lightly smacking your cheeks in hopes you'd cool off the heat in your cheeks. You were for sure going to melt.

Moments later, you found yourself staring at the tall glass building before you in a complete daze. All of a sudden, you didn’t really feel the need to work.

The rest of the morning was spent with staring mindlessly at the computer screen, restless fingers tapping on your desk. The computer was taking its sweet time connecting to the office printer, the ‘retry’ window popping up for the three tries you had attempted. Sighing softly, you slumped your back against your seat as you turned over to Ren, who busied herself with (discretely) playing solitaire on the computer.

Silently, you wondered how she’d react if you told her what had happened last night.

You switched your gaze back to your stubborn computer, eyes glaring into the bright screen — daring it to try defying you, one more time. With focused eyes, you watch as your computer slowly connects with the printer; silently praying that a ‘retry’ window wouldn’t appear this time.

Printer connected. 1 out 8 documents printing…

You clicked your tongue, the corners of your lips curling up into a small triumphant grin. It was about damn time. The weight on the plush of the chair was lifted once you stood up from your desk, adjusting the hem of your skirt as you made your way to the printer athwart the office. You lean your back slightly against the table, and you open your phone to pass time.

F 0236113: Good morning. I’m sorry I didn’t reply right away, I was caught up with work. How are you now?

M 0337411: I'm so sleepy. I can't stop thinking about last night.

F 0236113: Last night?

M 0337411: Don't tell me you forgot... You're despicable

You attempt to stifle a giggle at the man's texts, your hand covering your mouth in an effort (though, it was in vain) to hide the huge grin growing on your face. You knew very well about stranger danger, but for some odd reason, whenever you open your phone, you always --somehow-- get gravitated towards him. Of course, you had your cautions, but if you told Ren that this app wasn't at the least amusing, you'd certainly be a whole ass liar.

F 0236113: I'm kidding. How can I ever forget that?

M 0337411: Of course you can't. Care to remind me who said that my voice turned her on last night?

F 0236113: ...Who's the despicable one, now?

M 0337411: You're not denying it.

Shaking your head in amusement, you stuffed your phone back inside the pocket of your blazer and you grabbed the finished documents out of the machine, and organizing the sheets of paper with one hand while reaching out for the nearest stapler in the other. As much as you were enjoying your silence, it wasn't long before it had to be interrupted. In your peripheral vision, you could make out someone's hand placing a cup of coffee on the table, and your gaze snapped over to a familiar blond male -- his sharp eyes making it much easier to identify the man. You held yourself back from rolling your eyes, and you feigned a smile towards your boss.

"You've been working extra hard these days, Y/N." said Naoya. "Here, I got you one of your favourites."

"Thank you, Mr. Zen'in." You thanked the male as you grabbed the cup, it was your one of your favourites -- one that he'd always get you. "I was just about to hand you these documents."

You handed your boss the finished documents, ready to excuse yourself back to your desk.

"Hold on," Naoya said, "we still have some things to discuss."

What’s even there to discuss? You scoffed in your mind. Beyond a doubt, there was the slightest bit of hesitance into making your decision — however, you were more curious than you were cautious or nervous at this point.

"Okay," you said, smiling softly at the man. "What is it that you want to talk about, hm?"

Your soft words were laced with some form of venom, your eyes staring at the man expectantly.

"We can talk about it in my office," said Naoya before muttering, "follow me."

You followed Naoya compliantly, however, you couldn't ignore the unbearable tension filling the air between the both of you. To be completely honest, you were beginning to regret even agreeing to follow him. Even if he had many things to discuss with you, what exactly could you reply to him with? Should you just stare at him and smile? Whilst rehearsing lines of excuses in your mind, you found yourself in his office, already seated on the sofa across from him.

"You moved on quite quickly," was the first thing Naoya uttered, breaking the awkward silence that had befallen you. "You already talking to someone new?"

"I honestly thought that our conversation would be work-related, was my judgement wrong? Besides, whether or not I moved on shouldn't be a concern to you." You replied, your usual (fake) soft tone now replaced with a certain sternness.

Naoya clicked his tongue, crossing his arms. The usual friendly, charismatic facade that he had always kept on eventually melted off -- his imperturable expression now plastered across his face. He raised an eyebrow towards you, his gaze locked onto yours with such intensity -- at first glance, anyone could've easily mistaken it as some ardent desire

"Is there anything else that you want to tell me?" You questioned him. "If not, I can just leave."

"You know, many days were spent with me wondering what went wrong between us to make you leave." He said before standing up from his couch, inching his way towards you. This ignorant fool. How could he act so stupid, unknowing of what caused the downfall of your relationship. He lowered himself, his eyes meeting your evidently vexed gaze.

"I missed you," he confessed, and you lightly scoffed at his words.

"Naoya," you said his name, your voice harsh, "everything was what went wrong in this relationship. You're my boss. There was no hope for the both of us -- I was practically invisible to you unless you needed something from me. Tell me this, Naoya, do you really mean it when you say you miss me? Or do you miss the woman that was easily wrapped around your finger?"

Naoya stared at you, shocked at your words before his lips curled up into a small smirk. A small chuckle left his lips, laced with contempt. “Now, what are you trying to say, Y/N?”

“What I’m saying is, Mr. Zen’in, don’t spout shit you obviously don’t mean. Besides, I know about you and Emi.”

Emi was genuinely a wild guess, but you obviously had your suspicions with how easily he’d get swayed by her, and how fixated she was on the mere topic of the Zen’in heir, as well as how you noticed how close they’d been getting prior to the breakup — but his reaction told you everything you needed to know and you chuckled quietly.

Naoya’s facial expressions dropped, it was almost cold. You knew all too well that this man had a knack for control, but that gave you even more of a reason to not waver underneath his cold gaze. You knew, coming into his office, that you were going to have to play quite a difficult game with this man. You had already grown a skin of steel (at least you hope you did) from the constant gaslighting you had to endure from him.

"Y/N," he said your name sternly, "what the hell are you even saying right now? That doesn't make any sense--"

"--I have nothing left to say towards you, Naoya." You said while smiling apathetically at the blond male, who seemed visibly displeased at your words. "Were you not even curious as to where I might've went this past week?"

No, not really. Over the course of time chasing after this man's love and affection, you soon realized that trying to save a relationship with a man who wouldn't even bother with you was straight up pointless. Over the course of time chasing after this man's love and affection, you realized that you no longer wanted to be concerned with him.

You heaved a sigh, shaking your head as you stood up from the sofa, making your way towards the door.

"I'll take my leave now, talking about this will only bring us nowhere. I suggest we continue acting like nothing happened between us -- work will be easier for you that way.”

The Zen'in heir opened his mouth to retort, but no words could come out of his throat. He was a man who had grown accustomed to getting things his way throughout his twenty seven years of living, and to say that a mere employee could cast such an effect on him--there were many phrases that were forming in his mind, but he relented, once again.

Once again, he watched your figure getting farther away from the sofa, your hand reaching out of the door.

There was no way in hell that you’d allow to cross paths with him, or any man like him. Your relationship with him was awfully hot and cold — one day, he’d invite you to a hotel room under a false name, and shower you in his so called ‘love’, and the next day he’d treat you like you had never existed, flirting with all the other women who worked higher up in the hierarchy all the whilst giving you false reassurances. However, you knew far too well that your status could never satiate the man’s hunger for climbing up in the social ladder. All the fake love he gave you, and all the time and energy wasted on him — no matter what he chose to do next, for sure wouldn’t affect you.

You attempted to hide your shaky breaths. You had bursted out like that -- not only towards your ex-boyfriend, but your boss. With slightly trembling hands, you twist the knob open, ready to dart out of the office and make a beeline towards the exit.

The door swung open, and rather than leaving immediately, you found yourself frozen in the doorway as you stare into bright, cerulean eyes with your watery ones.

"Oh? Am I interrupting something?"

Your eyes widened. That voice -- his voice. Perhaps you were just overthinking, but it sounded all too familiar. No, you had to be overthinking. His ivory locks framed his pale face, his business formal attire adorning his tall, lean frame — his features, in general, were a literal godsend. He appeared incredibly rich and powerful, much like your boss, the Zen'in Naoya -- if not, maybe even more. You mentally smacked yourself, how could you possibly make such baseless assumptions towards a man you had just seen.

"Gojo Satoru," Naoya said, his voice laced with obvious annoyance. "You should've texted me that you were arriving earlier than usual.”

Almost immediately, you moved out of the way, sending the tall man a small smile of acknowledgement as he entered the room. The white-haired male leaned against the wall beside you, rather than getting himself comfortable on the exorbitant-priced furniture.

“Sorry, sorry,” the man whose name was Satoru apologized weakly; his tone almost apathetic, “my flight arrived way earlier, and I was bored, so why not pass some time?”

The blond male tutted in response, shaking his head towards Satoru before darting his gaze over to you, whom in which made a discrete attempt to escape his office. “L/N,” Naoya called out your last name, his lips curled into a grin, “do you have time to show Gojo around the building?”

It was evident that Naoya wanted nothing to do with his guest, it was all plastered across his face.

Why couldn’t he do it himself? Why couldn't he call his secretary himself? You pondered to yourself as you returned the plastic smile, hoping that Naoya could see the vein that popped on your temple. You weren't in the mood to retaliate any longer, though. If this meant that you could leave his office, then it was fine.

"Yeah, of course." You switched your attention to the taller male, "Is there anywhere in the building that you haven’t seen yet?”

Gojo stared at you, almost surprised, for a moment before grinning. There was something in his gaze that made you want to shrivel up into a ball. As much as you wished to deny these intrusive thoughts that were lingering in the back of your mind, there was simply no way that he could be the stranger that you spoke to. However, the way he spoke — his pronunciation, his tone, the way he dragged his words, his voice — it was all too similar.

“Let’s get out of this office first, and then I’ll tell you.” Gojo said, smirking before shifting his gaze towards the glaring Zen’in.

The walk down the hallway was dreadfully silent. For a man like him who was verbose from the past minute, he was almost silent as you both headed for the elevator. “Mr. Gojo,” you said, breaking the silence, “is this your first time in the building?”

“Yeah,” he replied almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for you to speak. “By the way, your name is L/N…?”

“Y/N,” you finished, your pointer finger pressed firmly against the ‘up’ button. Then started the waiting game.

“Oh, Y/N.” Gojo repeated your name, his lips curling up into a small grin. “You know, you sound awfully familiar for someone that I’ve just met.”

“That’s interesting,” you said, your voice suddenly going quiet underneath his cerulean gaze. This awkwardness and tension lingering in the air was going to be the cause of your demise, you swore to yourself.

“Ahem—I suppose you don’t know where the meeting will be held later,” you said quickly, your voice getting higher in pitch, “there’s this huge conference room on the tenth floor, I’ll lead you to it.”

“No need to be so tense,” Gojo laughed, “I promise I don’t bite. So, speak normally with me, like how you would with a friend.”

You bit the inside of your cheek at his words, if someone found you speaking informally to someone as high up in the business hierarchy like him, they would definitely get the wrong idea, and the possibilities of rumours spreading in the office were high. Rumours were always a pain in the ass to deal with, so you really didn’t want to risk it.

“I still have to be careful, Mr. Gojo.” You smiled at the male. “It wouldn’t be a good look for me if I’m seen being informal towards you inside the building.”

“Will you be less tense with me if we talk outside the building, then?”

“I-I don’t understand what you’re trying to say, Mr. Gojo.”

The ding! coming from the elevator instantly broke you out of your thoughts, rushing into the empty space while uttering a quiet, “Come in,” towards the business man.

You stood across from Gojo, your eyes darting across the space — looking at anything, just anything besides him. You crossed your arms close to your chest, almost as if it could give you extra warmth aside from your blazer. Despite after crossing paths with him, you could already tell that Gojo Satoru was an unpredictable man. It was killing you.

You snapped your gaze towards the little screen above the sliding door, watching as the number slowly increased while the elevator lifted higher and higher. Six more floors to go.

“Sorry, I hope you don’t mind me making a phone call.” Gojo singsang, pulling out his phone out of the pocket of his trousers.

“Go ahead,” you muttered out, sparing the man a quick smile before your attention returned to the screen above the elevator door. Three more floors to go.

Just as you were about to relax, closing your eyes while waiting for the elevator to reach the tenth floor — you felt your phone violently vibrate inside your pocket, and shortly after, the HeartChat app ringtone echoed in the silent space. You felt your sweat running cold, as you rushed to get your phone out. Glancing up at the white haired male, you realized he had been staring at you the whole time with the phone in his hand, amused.

M 0337411 is calling… [accept | decline ]

All those intrusive thoughts that you tried so hard to ignore were right, after all.

You were simply going to die of embarrassment.

“What a coincidence. So, I was right after all. As soon as I heard your cute voice I automatically knew it was you.”

Everything was literally thrown at you today—first, having to deal with your ex (who wasn’t aware with what he did wrong) and second, being put into the corner of the elevator with Gojo Satoru, as known as the stranger you had phone sex with. You didn’t have a mirror with you to know what kind of expression you were making in that moment, but you for sure felt an overwhelming surge of mortification. Out of all days, it had to be the day after — when the memories of last night were still fresh in your mind. Out of all people, it had to be Gojo Satoru, the new man in the building.

“And given your reaction,” Gojo said, gently tilting your chin to meet his eyes; a hint of amusement present in his gaze, “you also recognize me.”

You swore you were going to melt, not only from embarrassment but, as ashamed as you were to admit it, him — it was even more embarrassing as you had grown aware of the wetness between your legs accumulating, only hidden by your black pencil skirt. Gojo Satoru, he truly was a sight to behold given his godsend features and his voice. The arousal that you had tried to suppress from last night slowly returns -- all those lewd thoughts you had about the stranger, and he was there -- within your reach.

“Not here,” you whispered, lightly smacking the man’s hand of your face. The look of chagrin was plastered all across your face, your cheeks stained with a bright incarnadine hue and your eyes darting away from his. He found it utterly adorable. “The door’s going to open any moment now.”

Right as you said that, the door opened—and thank god there was no one waiting on the other side of the door. There would simply be zero explanation that would be able to save you — his body was close to yours as you were nearly pressed in the corner of the elevator and hot, unbearable tension flooded the thick air.

“A-Anyways,” you stammered out, rushing out of the confines of the elevator, “to the conference room, it’s uh— this way. If you’ll follow me…”

Gojo followed suit, walking in a languid pace as he watched you speed-walk down the hall before stopping in front of a large opaque grey double door You pushed it open, signalling the man to enter.

Shortly after, you entered the room. “To be honest, I never stepped foot inside this room before—until today, that is.”

You traced the tips of your fingers along the sides of the large wooden table, your eyes scanning your surroundings. It actually looked really nice and clean. It was aesthetically pleasing to the eyes, too.

“Are you here for a business project with Mr. Zen’in?”

“I suppose you can say that, but I’m mainly here to speak with Zen’in Naobito .”

“Ah, the CEO then.”

“That’s correct.”

Then returned the silence, as well as the growing tension in the air. Just you were about to turn around and open the door, a strong hand stops you in your tracks. “Wait,” Gojo grabbed your attention, pulling you closer so you could face him.

You frantically glanced toward the door, afraid that someone could walk in.

The tension between the both of you was so strong, anyone could've cut it down with a knife, but there'd still be some struggle to it. You could barely breath; the air between the both of you felt warm, and only increased in temperature the longer you stayed in the room.

“This room will be empty for hour and a half before they arrive and start the meeting,” he assured you before leaning his face closer to your ear, his breath hot as he continued to speak. "Besides I still couldn't help, but think about last night. Does last night still play fresh in your mind?"

Oh, Lord. You swallowed your saliva, the warmth in your cheeks quickly returning as you stared at Gojo with a flustered expression plastered all across your face. He pulled you closer, and you didn't fight against it; the pleasant smell of his cologne filled your nostrils, you could grow addicted to it.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about it all," you replied, your voice quiet.

That was enough of an answer for him. "Good," he said, grinning.

You couldn't ignore the utter lack of distance between both your bodies; your chest pressed against his with his one arm wrapped around your waist, his other hand caressing your chin -- tilting your head slightly while he silently examined your lips. You also took this as a chance to stare at his features up close, and you were right when you told yourself that he was blessed by the gods and your eyes lingered to his lips; they looked so soft, it almost made you wonder what it'd feel and taste like. You didn't want him to go.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked you, however, there was something in his azure eyes that begged you to tell him to keep going -- there was a certain desperation to it. You looked at Gojo with a pleading gaze, however you also appeared to be dazed by his baritone voice, your lips trailing down to his lips.

"Kiss me," you told him, your voice dripping with arousal.

There was a stifled groan coming from the man before he pulled your face to his, his lips devouring yours. His lips tasted of honey, sweet and addicting; his hand pressed strongly against the small of your back as he walked you against the table. Large hands played with the hem of your skirt while you softly moaned in his mouth, your hands playing with the soft cushion of his ivory locks.

All rational thoughts had slipped out of your mind like butter, and all that took over was the pent up sexual desire and pure arousal.

You both briefly pulled away, a string of saliva was connected from both your lips.

“What if someone walks in on us?” You questioned the male, your voice nearly breathless.

“Don’t worry, sweets. The doors are locked, and room’s soundproof too.” Gojo replied, his hands slowly caressing up your skirt, “I’m surprised that no one hid the remote, too.”

"And fuck, have you seen yourself in the mirror? It's almost like you're begging to be fucked by me." He said, relishing the sight of your flushed face with your eyes staring up at him in wanton, as well as your cleavage firmly pressed pressed against his chest; the first few buttons had already gotten undone, revealing your black lace bra.

You briefly remembered telling him about how he sounded so different compared from how he texted when you first called him, and now that you were face to face with him — you soon came to realize that whatever words he spat out of his mouth were nothing but prurient, with you at least.

“Dirty girl, we just met and you’re already giving me that look. We’re in the conference room, too.” Gojo continued to tease, the tip of his finger playing with the waistband of your panties.

“It’s your fault,” you bit back playfully, “I bet you’ve kissed many women to be that good at kissing.”

Gojo immediately laughed at your response, “I’m honoured, but this is actually my first.”

“T-That's bullshit,” you said, surprised. “there’s no way that this is your first—Ah!”

Your own words got cut off by a surprised gasp, your head thrown back as your eyes rolled back in pleasure. He had pushed the slick fabric aside, and he easily eased a large finger inside your heat. Fuck. His fingers were far more better than you could’ve ever imagined — they were slender, yet girthy. His one finger could stretch you out more than your own two fingers could. Gojo eased his middle finger inside and fuck, was he about to cum by the way your pussy greedily took him in.

“Holy shit, sweets. So fucking wet that my fingers just keep getting sucked back in.” He said through gritted teeth, a hoarse chuckle slipping past his throat.

You tried to muffle your moans, covering your trembling mouth with both your hands as you succumbed to the pleasure that this man was giving you. You, for sure, had gone crazy — crazy to the max. Just earlier you were worried about getting caught being informal with him, but here you were, getting your pussy fingered by him in the conference room. Not only that, that man currently working his fingers into you, Satoru Gojo, was the stranger you had phone sex with last night. You were absolutely insane.

His pace quickened -- it was almost merciless, his thumb eventually joining into the mix to rub your sensitive bundle of nerves; the sounds of your drenched pussy being absolutely ravished by his filled the room, along with your muffled whimpers. With his empty hand, he grabbed both your hands and held them in a vice grip, dragging them away from your lips. "Hearing you moan in person is so fucking hot. I want to hear more."

And if he wasn’t rough with his fingers before, he definitely was now; desperately trying to draw all sorts of sounds from you — from the squelch of your wet pussy to your pretty moans, he wanted more. You, however, were completely writhing underneath his grip; your body sensitive from how well he was treating your needy hole. You could feel yourself coming close, the taste of orgasm was merely on the tip of your tongue, and all you could think about was how well his fingers were stretching you out. It wasn’t long before you felt the coil in your stomach tighten, and Gojo curled his fingers — making contact with the rough, spongy skin that made your toes curl. You arched your back, pressing your body closer to his — moaning his last name softly as you rode out your first orgasm. Gojo groaned along with you, muttering a line of praises as he slowly pushed his fingers in and out, relishing the aftermath of your release; coated with your juices.

Gojo’s patience was already thin, as you could say, it was treading on thin ice.

"Fuuck, you're so hot -- you're gonna make me cum, I swear." rasped Gojo, his breath hot on your ear. He pressed lingering kisses across your neck while his hands traveled to your clothed breasts, giving them a light squeeze, "I just want to eat you up."

With how seductive his voice sounded, you were convinced that you were going to cum for the second time; right there, and then.

With one swift movement, he pulled your skirt down (along with your drenched underwear), threw the thin pieces of fabric at his side and got himself levelled with your pussy, now all bare for him to savour. His mouth watered at the sight; he could see how your hole pulsed, needing something to fill it back in. God, he needed to fuck you.

“You feeling shy now, hm?” Gojo teased, his eyes snapped over to your flustered ones.

You’ve never felt so exposed before, your legs spread wide apart as you leaned further back against the table— you were completely under the mercy of this man, and it only made you further aroused as a result. Something about doing something so lewd in the conference room, at your workplace, let alone with a stranger as handsome as he was — you’ve never felt so thrilled. You were probably going to smack yourself later for being so reckless and irresponsible, but right here at this moment, you were going to savour every sensation; his touch, his taste, his voice, everything.

Without ever breaking eye contact with you, he licked a long stripe of saliva over your already drenched folds and your hips automatically bucked up at the pleasure. He watched as you writhed underneath his touch, a shuddering breath leaving your swollen lips. You were truly a sight to behold, and if it weren’t for the location, he would’ve had you completely naked for him. Thoughts of you never ceased to part from his mind, from hearing your voice to mere imaginations of fucking you senseless. Needless to say, his imaginations could never ever compare to what was unfolding before him.

He let out a satisfied hum against your folds, emitting light vibrations through your veins, just before he dug his face deeper in between your legs -- it was almost as if this man was starved; his tongue and lips greedily sucking onto your clit, twirling the sensitive bud around with the tip of his tongue. You shivered against his touch, "G-Gojo--Fuck."

"Satoru," Gojo corrected you for a moment before returning to his ministrations, "wanna hear you say my name."

This time, he stuck his tongue inside your pussy -- his finger returning to rub on your clit.

"Satoru," you moaned his name, "fuck, that feels so good."

Gojo moaned into your pussy in response, his actions only getting more messier and more carnal the more he tasted you -- he was getting drunk from the mere taste of you.

It wasn't long before you felt your impending release, the second one at that, and you gripped your fingers tightly around Satoru's ivory locks, muttering out a line of curses and 'i'mcoming'imcomingi'mcoming--' as your body shook around his head.

"Good girl. Good fucking girl." You heard Satoru mumble out praises as he lapped up all your juices, relishing in the sweet scent and taste of pure arousal that dripped down his cerise lips. “You taste so fucking delicious, I was seriously about to cum.”

“Fuck,” he hissed to himself, and you could hear the sounds of his belt unclasping — dropping to the floor. He was growing even more needy for you, and his horniness level had honestly gone through the fucking roof at this point. All he wanted to do now was to fuck you senseless.

"Satoru," you muttered his name, voice laced with pure desire, "want you to put it in already."

“There’s no way I won’t fuck your pussy today,” replied Gojo, discarding his undergarment, and almost immediately, his erect cock sprung up and your mouth began to water at the girth and length. Just how was that going to fit inside you?

Your reaction didn't go by unnoticed by the ivory-haired male, and his voice got a little gentle. He rubbed his cock against your slick folds, and you both shuddered at the sensation. "You'll be okay, just relax. You can do that for me, yeah?"

"Mhm," you nodded your head, almost a bit too frantically. Given the limited amount of time that you both had, you needed him inside now.

"Take a deep breath for me, 'kay?"

You complied to his words, closing your eyes as you inhaled deeply -- however, you nearly choked on your spit when only his tip entered. Satoru constantly gave you gentle reassurances; gently rubbing the sides of your hips, all while he pushed himself deeper into your walls. There was simply no way this was his first time, you thought to yourself silently -- but all your thoughts instantly turned into mush once he hit the hilt; his tip meeting your cervix. You moaned his name, your eyes slightly rolling back at the immense pleasure the man had been drowning you in.

Satoru groaned at the delightful sensation before chuckling through strained breaths, "See, it wasn't so hard."

He gave you a brief moment to recollect yourself, three seconds in fact, before he began to roll his hips against yours; pulling his cock back until the tip was barely inside, and he plunged back in. He did all this at an almost rapid pace, making your whole entire body turn into jelly.

"Look at your pussy, sucking me in so greedily when I just started to fuck you. Dirty girl." He rasped, his lips curled up into a grin and his gaze laserfocused on how your pussy was connected to him. It was taking everything in him not to cum right away, let alone cum inside you -- but the sensations of your walls clamping tightly around his shaft was making it difficult to think straight.

He kept up with the relentless pace, relishing in the sweet sounds your wet pussy was making while he fucked you as well as your moans.

He could feel you tightening around even more around him, as if your pussy was trying to milk him dry. The pace of his thrusts began to stagger, and he could feel himself getting closer to his release, however, rather than keeping up with his pace, he slowed down. You snapped your gaze to the Satoru, confused.

"Don't worry princess, I just want to try something new right now."

Just as you were about to question him on what exactly he was planning to do, you gasped in surprise when he lifted you up from the table with ease; your arms instinctively wrapped around his shoulders as he aligned your pussy with his cock, and steadily, he dropped you down on his length. You both moaned in tandem at the sensation. He watched your face intently, how it scrunched together in immense pleasure, your mouth slightly agape as your lips spilled out a myriad of moans while he lifted you and dropped you on his cock at a steady rhythm.

"Ohfuckohfuck--'Toru, you're so deep." You whimpered, stuffing your head into the crook of his shoulders while he continued to plunge into you. His grip on your ass tightened as he began to pick up the pace, and your moans were continuously broken down each time he thrusted his cock into you. He was relentless, and he was already obsessed with how you clamped down so tightly around him. He could honestly never get enough of it -- of you. And, how he loved watching you getting dumb over his cock, hearing you jumble nonsense all while telling him how badly you needed his cock had definitely done a number on him.

The tightening coil sensation that reverberated in the depths of your stomach returned once more the longer the man had pleasured you and you dug your nails deeper into the man's shoulders. "I'm gonna cum, fuck Satoru, I'm so close...!"

"Fucking cum on my cock," Gojo ordered you, his voice was almost pleading, and he kept up the pace, squeezing his eyes tightly and groaning at how tight your walls were squeezing him. You let out a cry, arching your back and curling your toes, as you came around his cock; your juices creaming around his shaft. He gently brought you back down to the floor, but held the small of your back immediately when he noticed that you were about to lose your balance.

Cumming inside you could wait for another day, he thought to himself as he desperately rubbed his hand on his cock, his lips immediately diving into yours for a passionate kiss. Soft groans left his rose-tinted lips as he melded his mouth with yours. He could feel his abdomen growing tighter, his legs getting weaker, and his mind getting blank. With a deep, strained moan slipping past the man's throat, he painted your thighs white with his seed.

Heavy breaths filled the room, and then came the soft chuckles.

“I’d like to say we’re really compatible,” said Gojo, pressing a soft kiss against your temple before languidly pulling a handkerchief from the pocket of his trousers; cleaning the mess he had made on your skin. “Don’t you agree, Y/N?”

You were far too dazed to comprehend most of the words that spilled from Gojo’s mouth, so you chose to nod your head in response to the man’s question. Gojo was quite the gentleman, upon realizing that your legs still felt weak and wobbled, he immediately took action — helping you slide your skirt back on while stuffing your drenched panties in his trousers (to which you gave him a light smack on the shoulder, but he didn’t mind honestly), buttoned your shirt back up, and helped put your blazer back on; he did all that while muttering sweet praises in your ear, almost tickling the skin. Your hair was still a mess, though, and your lips still appeared to be swollen. Gojo ran his fingers through your locks, making a pathetic attempt at fixing your hair. At least he tried, though. He shortly fixed his appearance after; all he did was clasp his belt back on, fix his attire, and ruffle his ivory locks — all within a minute.

“We still have fourty-five minutes left to spare.” Satoru said, staring at his phone screen before he shoved it back inside his pocket (not where your panties are, though). “We should head out now before someone tries to get in.”

“You’re a liar,” you said weakly, your voice almost breathless, “there’s no way that this is your first.”

Satoru chuckled, “Again, I’m honoured, but you’re my first.”

He grabbed the tiny remote and pressed the button, thus unlocking the double-doors. You didn’t really feel the need to ask him why he seemed so familiar with the conference room as you were heavily fixated on his face; his cerulean eyes gazing into yours, a bright smile painted on his pale visage.

“Let me take you out sometime,” Gojo blurted out. “You’re totally my type, and I want us to get to know each other better.”

“And how do I know that you don’t say that to other women using that app?”

“You were the first and only one I texted on the app,” Gojo replied, “and we are alike in so many aspects — especially our compatibility in sex.“

You rolled your eyes jokingly, before smiling at the male. “Okay then, I accept your offer. You know, you’re also my type.”

“And,” Gojo added, “we both get turned on by each other’s voices.”

“Let’s go,” you shrugged off the chuckling male, opening the double-door. Fortunately enough, there was no one present in the halls and there was still plenty of time before the meeting took place.

“Mr. Gojo,” you spoke to him formally, however there was a tint of teasing in your voice as his name spilled out of your lips like honey. “Anywhere else you’d like to go?”

“You. Me. My place, or yours.”

“You— I’m talking about if there’s anything else you’re not familiar with in the building.” You whispered harshly. “And, watch your volume!”

It had been a week since your last tryst with the Gojo Satoru, and needless to say, talking to him was a breath of fresh air. HeartChat switched over to SMS and there came the video calls. Even as promised, he brought you out to his favourite restaurants and cafés. Over the course of those past few days, you learned many things about the handsome man (aka god’s favourite), and he learned many things about you. For starters:

He was the chief executive officer of GOJO Tech, he was once the heir, but it wasn’t too long before his father decided to give him the role at the age of 24 (he’s now 28), and since then, business had been booming for the Gojo clan.

His relationship with the Gojo clan wasn’t the best — despite him being the new head of the clan and CEO, some members constantly preying on his demise. He didn’t really care, though.

He hated the taste of alcohol — he absolutely despised it. He drank it once during a party and immediately “chased” it with a mouthful of strawberry cake. You later questioned him if he really knew what a chaser was.

His first time having phone sex was with you, he tried acting confident since it also was your first.

He was basically good at everything he did—everything that would normally be strenuous or difficult would always appear to be easy on him.

Nevertheless, there were some things that remained unchanged, and that was the phone sex that you both subconsciously agreed to do nightly, as if it was some sort of promise.

You weren’t going to lie, but you nearly forgot about the drinking party with your colleagues — once you remembered, you immediately invited Gojo to accompany you (it was also at that moment where you remembered that he didn’t drink alcohol). Surprisingly, he agreed to come along, and even offered to give you a ride there.

So there you were in the restaurant, seated near the end of the table with Gojo beside you while the rest of your colleagues chattered loudly, it was awfully obvious that there had been alcohol in their system. You had already downed a glass of beer, and you could feel your stomach and cheeks steadily growing warmer. You turned over to Gojo, who busied himself in devouring all the food, even ordering for several new plates whilst your colleagues cheered on for him in a drunken haste. You had almost forgotten point number 6 — Not only was Gojo Satoru a dessert fanatic, he was also a huge foodie.

Emi made her way towards the end of table, where you and Gojo were seated; bottle of beer and sake in her hands. There was absolutely no denying how attractive she was, her eyes appeared innocent yet they relayed something far more different.

“I’m surprised that Mr. Gojo came along,” Emi began, smiling softly as gave the man beside you a playful stare; swiftly ignoring your presence. “I’ve heard that you’ve been incredibly busy these days. So, I’m glad. Do you mind if I pour you a drink?”

“Nah, it’s alright. I don’t drink those kind of stuff.” Gojo waved her off, sparing her a quick and friendly smile.

“Oh! By the way, did you and Y/N arrive together? I never expected you two to be so close, especially at work, considering how you just arrived here less than a week ago.” questioned Emi, tilting her head to one side while staring at him, feigning innocence. This irked you a little, as you could never tell what she was thinking behind those shy and innocent eyes of hers.

“I wonder how that could be,” she trailed off even further, her voice was loud enough so that a couple of colleagues could hear — loud enough for Zen’in Naoya to hear.

Flower of the office, my ass.

You could even feel your ex glaring daggers at both your directions. You took a large gulp out of your glass of beer while Gojo laughed loudly.

“My, you’re a curious one alright.” He said in between chuckles. “We simply crossed—”

“Satoru and I are currently seeing each other,” you cut him off, pointing your nearly empty glass towards Emi’s direction; your cheeks warm from the alcohol streaming in your veins. “Is that enough to make you, you know, mind your business?”

Haruto, Himari, and Ren, who all sat across from you, collectively choked on their drinks, staring at you in utter shock. They all gave you a look that basically screamed, ‘You bitch, at least catch us up!’

“O-Oh,” Emi said, her voice getting quieter while she still feigned a smile, “I’m happy for you both, then. You two make a cute pair.”

“I know we do,” Gojo said, pulling your shoulder closer to his while laughing. His eyes later snapped over to Naoya, who he could tell was trying his hardest to hide his disdain; his eyes were narrowed and his jaw tensed. Not before long, he stood up from his spot and briefly excused himself — reasoning was that he needed some fresh air. Shortly after, Emi followed his trail, and the party resumed like normal.

It was a silent gesture, but you gently squeezed his hands underneath the table as you stared into his eyes; his face still flushed from the earlier commotion — you had been reckless, once again. To your surprise, he squeezed your hand back immediately, only bringing both your hands onto the table, now visible for everyone to see. He gave you a reassuring smile before leaning in to press a soft kiss on your knuckles. The heat on your face only intensified at his display of affection, your cheeks turning scarlet.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered softly, “I did something really reckless, and I didn’t ask you if you were alright with having our relationship out in the open like that.”

“Y/N,” Satoru said, his voice quiet and gentle, “I didn’t ask you out just so I could keep you as a secret. I’ll show you off as much as I want, show everyone that you’re my woman.”

“I swear, Satoru, it’s always you and your words.” You mumbled, covering your flushed face with the palms of your hands.

“You mean voice,” he teased.

“… Shut up.”

Not long after that, perhaps thirty minutes, you bid your goodbyes to your colleagues, leaving the restaurant side by side with Gojo — making a beeline towards the car. Once you both entered, you let all your desires run loose; your lips locked against his, teeth clashing against one another, and heavy breaths filled the tight vicinity. The air quickly grew hot, and the kisses further intensified with fervour.

“W-Wait, Satoru,” you mumbled his name in his lips, your grip on his black dress shirt tightening.

He pulled away, and god, did he look ethereal underneath the moonlight; his white strands shone like silver, his eyes only glowed brighter in the darkness. “What is it, sweets?”

“Let’s not do it here,” you said softly, looking up at him with desperate eyes. “Let’s do it at my place.”

Gojo Satoru never turned his engine on so quickly until now, driving his lamborghini like he was a man on a mission.

The air grew warm the very moment you both stepped into your apartment, lips locked onto each other and arms wrapped around one another. Soft moans left your lips as you could feel the man’s pent up desire grinding against your hips, rubbing deliciously against your clothed heat.

“Your bed,” there was a certain urgency in his voice as he rasped against your lips, and grabbing his large hands, you both rushed to the bedroom. Your back met with the soft plush of the mattress, further sinking in as Satoru also applied his weight, his lips getting a taste of yours for the nth time. His hands instantly pushing up your shirt, his hands traveling up to your your breasts; his fingers sliding underneath the pads of your bra to tweak your little buds. You stifled a soft whimper, your fingers locked in his ivory locks.

Eventually he slid your shirt up, and you helped make go by things faster by unclasping your bra. He took in the moment to appreciate the sight of your nude breasts, a hitched breath leaving his throat while he stared. Eventually, he dove in and showed love to both your mounds; coating your nipples with his saliva as he licked and sucked, leaving a small trail of hickies along your soft skin.

"Satoru," you said his name in a soft murmur, your cheeks warm and scarlet. He hummed in response whilst he continued to play with your tits, his large hands squeezing the soft mounds. In a treacherous pace, he slowly trailed his kisses down your breasts to your lower abdomen. “You’re so cute,” he said in a teasing tone, “you’re already so sensitive to my touch, and I haven’t even started with you.”

He swiftly pulled your skirt down, immediately chuckling at the damped mess you hid in between your legs.

"You're so wet," he mumbled quietly as his arousal immediately went straight towards his dick. He drew a finger across your folds, which were only covered by the thin dampened fabric. With nimble hands, he slid off the fabric off effortlessly, and without wasting time, he inserted two fingers inside -- groaning at how easily he slid in.

He started out the pace with a punishing speed, your toes immediately curling at the sensation as you squealed in unadulterated pleasure. You rolled your eyes back as you drowned in the delightful sensations, arching your back whilst rolling your hips to meet his fingers. It wasn’t until he began to curl his fingers that the volume of your moans began to increase. He pushed your legs farther apart, digging his fingers deeper; eliciting more whimpers and wanton moans that slipped out of your lips effortlessly.

“You close?” He teased you, and you nodded your head frantically in response. He could very well tell how close you were to your orgasm, judging by the way your walls fluttered around his fingers.

“Cum for me then,” he said, and that was all it took for you to succumb to your release, your pussy juices perfectly coating his two fingers. "Good girl," he gave you his praise, his voice deep and heavy.

His fingers parted away from your skin, briefly, before he began to slowly unbutton his midnight dress shirt, revealing his toned muscles and abdomen-- all while staring down at you with a carnal daze. "Like what you see?"

You stared up to meet his eyes, flustered. "Of course, why would I not? You look so... hot. If the word hot and sexy was a person, I feel like it'd be you."

"Is this your way of flirting, cutie?" Gojo said in a teasing tone, his lips curled up into a playful smirk while he unclasped his belt and unzipped his trousers, revealing his boxers and the awfully huge tent that hid beneath the fabric. God, he is so sexy.

"... I'm taking it back now." You said quietly in a stubborn tone.

"You won't," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone, "your mouth is literally drooling for me, and even more so when..."

He dragged his words out while he slowly slipped his boxers off, revealing the angry red tip leaking with his pre-cum. Of course he ended up being right, seeing how you stared at his cock with hearts in your eyes.

"Okay cutie! Get on your knees and ass up."

Gojo loved how easily you complied to his commands -- one second you'd show him a little bit of sass and the next second you were begging for his dick. He grinned at the sight of your ass and back arched, your slick juices dripping off your pussy -- this was all for him, just for him. A loud smack resonated in the room when he slapped your ass and played with it, absolutely loving how it jiggled with every movement his hand made with it.

However, he couldn't wait any longer. He needed you, he wanted you -- so, so badly. Rubbing the tip of his cock along your folds, he relished in the sight of your body writhing beneath his grasp; being all desperate and needy for his cock.

It wasn't long before the loud sounds of his cock fucking into your pussy filled the bedroom, your loud moans muffled by the pillows you stuffed your head into. All that you could feel at that moment was pure, unadulterated pleasure; he was hitting all the right spots and his moans were music to your ears.

"Fuck, I've always thought about how I'd fuck you like this." Gojo moaned. "You're gripping onto me so fuckin' tight I might just cum."

A loud cry left your lips when Gojo decided to wrap his arms around you, pulling your body closer to his; his chest pressed firmly against your back as he continued to fuck into you whilst his hand traveled down to your center, lazily rubbing circles on your clit.

"O-Oh--fuck--'Toru --Ahn!" You would moan his name loudly while your body shook under his manipulation.

"Y/N," Gojo said your name breathlessly, all the whilst fucking you dumb on your bed, "be my girlfriend-- I want you to be all mine."

"Y-Yes, yes, yes -- 'Toru," you said in between gasps and moans, "I wanna be all yours. O-Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum -- I'm gonna cum--!"

Gojo mumbled a bunch of praises towards you as you rode out your orgasm, your chest rising and sinking as you attempted to control your heavy breaths while he gently rubbed your hips with his thumb. "You're such a good girl," he leaned over to press a soft kiss over the back of your head.

"You still have some energy, right?" He questioned you, and you now found yourself laying underneath the male; your legs both hoisted up on his shoulders. You nodded your head, staring at Gojo with a heavy-lidded gaze, and his eyes were blown with lust and desire. He pressed a soft kiss to your ankle before staring back down at you with a teasing smile.

"Good, because I'm nowhere near done."

(You definitely made sure to keep a mental note to thank Ren for getting you into the app)

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 !

It was a day after your your risqué rendezvous with Gojo Satoru, who you later came to realize was the stranger you engaged sexual activities with over the phone, on HeartChat — the app that no one other than your childhood friend and coworker, Ren, had downloaded on your phone.

“So,” Ren began, wiggling her eyebrows as she pointed at the phone you were holding in your hand. “How was it? It’s fun isn’t it?”

You and Ren were seated on the bench, eating lunch outside during your break. Normally you’d stay indoors, but the following information you were going to share to her were meant for her ears only — since she was the one who recommended this app, after all. Needless to say, Ren was more than thrilled for you to spill the details.

“You never told me that the app was meant for different purposes,” you said, raising a small brow towards your friend.

“I mean, I only use the app to troll around with other men. Nothing too serious, you know?” Ren said before her face quickly dropped. “Unless…? What exactly did you do, Y/N?”

“I…” you began, but you paused. “You better not tell this to another soul, I swear.”

“Riko?”

“Obviously we’ll catch Riko up from this after her honeymoon, but no one else! Promise?”

“You’re making me nervous, Y/N.”

“I had phone sex,” you admitted. Ren’s face immediately turned scarlet, looking at you — shocked. “No way,” she mumbled before she bursted out laughing. “No fucking way. Those type of things only happen in those spicy novels.”

“Oh, you won’t believe what happened next.”

“Okay. I’m all ears.”

“Don’t react loudly, okay?”

“I promise.”

“I had sex with him the next day.”

“WHAT.”

If Ren wasn’t red enough just moments before, then she definitely was now.

“So… are you going to tell me who it is or…?”

“Nah, it’s a secret.”

“... Babe, what other secret could possibly be more shocking than what you just told me?”

So, colour Ren surprised was when she added two and two together once you had confessed that you and The Gojo Satoru were seeing each other a week later.

interactions, comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated! xoxo

#ੈ✩‧˚sora’s creations #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #anime smut #gojo satoru fanfic #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo #jujutsu kaisen

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jishyucks · 5 months

Text

Desk Deliveries — ljn

‣ pairing: lee jeno x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied f2l/coworkers-to-lovers, secret admirer au, office!au

‣ wc: 5.6k

‣ summary: When gifts start appearing on your work desk on December 1st, you have no choice but to hunt down the man who’s been planting them. And with only 7 men on the floor, this shouldn’t be difficult… Right?

‣ warnings: nothing really?, cliche-ish ending, a lot of dialogue (I gotta get this story goingggg)

‣ an: jeno’s wooooo, honestly easier to write than I thought but it’s wayyyy longer than I wanted it to be (I keep underestimating? myself), I just hope it’s up to my own standards lmaooo, but hopefully u guys enjoy!

Series Masterlist

DECEMBER 1

Desk Delivery!

Starting today, consider your desk a treasure trove of surprises.

‘Tis the season of giving, after all, and your radiant presence in the office deserves to be celebrated.

Each gift is carefully chosen, a small reflection of the little things I love about you. I hope they bring a smile to your face and add a sprinkle of magic to your December days.

Stay curious,

Your Secret Admirer (or would Secret Santa fit the season?)

You almost laugh out loud, blinking at the note sitting on your desk. This must be a joke, right?

“What is that?” Karina digs her chin into your shoulder, reading the note from behind you.

“Some joke,” you reply, letting her pluck the card from your fingertips.

She pouts, “But it’s cute!”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” you counter, taking the card back.

“I just don’t believe it’s real.”

DECEMBER 3

Today, you arrive at the office greeted with a small, neatly wrapped cube on your desk and you’re beginning to think that the message you were given on the 1st wasn’t a joke and that, whoever it was, was being serious.

You glance around the office to see if any of your coworkers were present, but you seemed to be the first one there. Your brows furrow, carefully sliding the box toward you before ripping the wrapping paper.

You use your office scissors to slice the tape open, and then once you are sure you can open the box to see what was in it, you take a deep breath in. You push the box away from you so it’s at arm’s length, afraid that something was going to pop out when you lift the flaps open. Counting to three in your head, you ready your fingers to lift the covers after the third count.

Fully expecting there to be fake snakes of some sort, you were met with nothing (thankfully). You pull the box back and peek in to find a mug and a card. Your brows furrow, pulling the card out first.

I know how much you love that mug of yours, Y/N…

But it’s time to retire that broken one.

Got you a new one. Hope you like it!

Your Secret Admirer

You can’t help but giggle at the tone of the writer, placing the card down before going for the mug. You’ve been teased maybe once or twice for using a mug with no handle, mostly because you’ve been complaining about how the edges of the glass edges left behind by the absent handles had been poking at your palm.

Carefully, you fish the cup out of the box, making sure you won’t drop and shatter the present before you can even use it, and you use your other hand to pull the box off. And when you finally get a good look at the mug, you laugh out loud, bringing it up to eye level to get a good look at it.

It was the exact same mug you already have been using, the only difference was that this one actually had a handle.

You were so caught up in your present that you didn't notice Karina approaching you, “Morning, smiley face.”

“Huh?” you blink at her, confused.

“I would take a picture of you right now, but I’m too lazy,” she huffs, “But you’re smiling like a child on Christmas Day.” Karina blatantly points at your face, “Who’s got you smiling like that?”

You shrug but gesture to the card and the mug, “I don’t think that first one was a joke…”

DECEMBER 4

“Hey! Hey, Y/N!”

You hear someone call your name, but you don’t actually hear it. It was sort of like background noise to your thoughts, entering one ear and leaving the other.

“Y/N! Hey!”

Then, you feel something rough hit the side of your face and you realize that Karina was peeking over the wall of her cubicle and into yours.

“What the fuck do you want!” you whisper. You pick up the balled-up scrap paper she had thrown before throwing it back to her, “I’m trying to work!”

She dodges the ball with ease, head briefly disappearing then reappearing, “Do you have any candidates for who your secret admirer could be?”

Karina was speaking a little bit too loud for your liking, so you gestured for her to come closer. She doesn’t hesitate to leave her workspace to enter yours, sitting down on an empty spot on your desk, “So? Candidates?”

You shake your head, “Barely. I was only able to pick out that the writing is a guy’s writing because the girls have neat writing… Other than that, I have nothing.”

The two letters sitting on your desk were your only explicit clues. Then, you had the thing with the mug, but everyone knew of your broken mug. So really, it was just the handwriting that you had as insight.

“Okay, so it’s a guy…” Karina hums. She stretches her neck to glance around the office, “And there’s only like… seven? It wouldn’t be difficult to eliminate some of them.” She picks up your two cards to examine the cards. You can see her eyes move back and forth between the letters, pressing her lips into a thin line. “It’s not Renjun.”

“Huh? How do you know that?”

“He handwrites,” Karina states, “Like straight-up longhand writing. So it’s not him.”

“How do you know he’s not just changing up his writing so it’s not obvious?” you narrow your eyes.

Karina laughs, “Okay, you have a point, but let’s just say that he’s out temporarily, to make it easier on us. In the case that everyone else is out, then it’s Renjun.”

You don’t notice the way your face scrunches up, your facial features pushing in toward your nose.

“Hey, what’s with the face?” Karina’s head tilts to the side. It takes a beat and a half before she realizes, “Wait, you don’t want it to be Renjun, do you?”

You don’t answer, mostly because you didn’t want to outright say that you didn’t want Renjun to be your admirer—no offense to him. Renjun was a great guy, but he wasn’t someone who you saw yourself being with. And if you were to actually build a relationship with this person, you didn’t want it to be Renjun.

An all-knowing smirk appears on Karina’s face, “Then who do you want it to be?”

You want to throw a punch at Karina’s knee, but you remember you are still in the workplace and you need to keep it (at least a little bit) professional. “Fuck you, you already know the answer to that.”

Jeno, Karina thinks.

“Of course you want it to be him,” Karina puts the cards back down, “I should have known. You’re down bad for that man.”

Karina wasn’t wrong. You and Jeno go way back to your internship days, and your (hopeless) crush on him has been there since then.

“Down bad for who?”

From seemingly out of nowhere, Chenle appears at the corner of your cubicle, leaning against it as he takes a sip of his coffee. And of course, wherever Chenle was, Jisung followed, standing right next to the former.

“Uh, that-that one actor!” you lie in a panic, “From that one show!”

“You suck at lying,” Chenle snorts, “You could have at least named someone. It could have been Nam Joohyuk for all I care.”

“It’s not you guys if that’s what you’re thinking,” Karina snickers, “Sorry, boys.”

Jisung and Chenle burst out laughing, almost comically in sync. They even threw in a high-five, though it was out of habit. “No offense, Y/N, but I don’t see you in that light.” Chenle is practically in tears.

“No offense, Chenle, but I don’t either,” you reply, “Now can you guys please leave my space or I’m reporting you guys to Taeyong.” And that sends them away because it wasn’t the first time they’ve been reported.

“Okay so we can scratch those two off the list,” Karina concludes.

And you nod.

So far, so good. This should be easy.

DECEMBER 8

Okay, it wasn’t as easy as you thought.

All your interactions with the other guys were normal. None of them seemed suspicious enough for you to star, nor did any of them do anything that ruled themselves off your list, and you had to admit, it was frustrating.

Of all the boys, the most suspicious was Jaemin, who snickered every time he passed your desk. But when you mentioned this to Karina, Karina pointed out that Jaemin was like that in general, always up to his own shenanigans like Donghyuck was.

“That or he knows something,” Karina thinks, “We should ask him.”

It was nearing the end of the day and you and Karina were sitting at one of the open tables by the floor’s wall of windows, mugs in hand while you carefully eyed the boys of the department.

Karina’s about to walk up to Jaemin when you stop her, pinching her blouse to keep her from leaving, “I don’t think Jaemin’s stupid enough to spill anything if we ask. We have to make it subtle.”

“Subtle, how?”

You shrug, “Just subtle.”

“Subtle, how?” Karina repeats.

You want to bonk her in the head, “I guess pretend like you don’t really care, maybe say you think it’s Renjun or something and see what he says.”

Let’s say Jaemin really did know who your admirer was. If Karina were to think it was someone else, she could note the way Jaemin would react to her guesses and you both can go from there.

You shoo her away and let her do her thing, staying back to pretend you were watching cars drive past down below.

In 8 days, the only clues you were able to gather included the fact that he was a boy, he worked on this floor (the mug thing), he liked to end his J’s in loop de loops, and there was always some type of water or coffee stain on the cards.

The last clue was something you and Karina had just recently discovered, simply because the first few cards were wrinkled in the slightest with water, while the most recent one, today's, had been stained with a drop of coffee.

You’re not sure if these were purposeful or accidental, but nonetheless, you and Karina took any details as clues, hoping that it would lead to a conclusion.

“You haven’t blinked for a while.”

“Shit, I didn’t hear you come,” you greet Jeno with an awkward smile, shifting your weight from one leg to the other, “I was just deep in thought.”

Jeno’s eyes disappear when he smiles and your stomach does that thing it does when he does so. It’s so stupid how you’re feeling like a giddy high schooler around this man, but you’ll defend yourself any day and blame him for everything.

“Is it about your secret admirer?” Jeno questions. He’s facing the window and you’re facing him. You can see him peeking at you through the corner of his eye and he’s smiling teasingly.

Your eyes widen, “Wait, how do you know about that?” You haven’t told anyone but Karina, Chenle, and Jisung, the last two only earning the information for being the most persistent duo on the planet.

“Word gets around,” he shrugs, “And I pass your desk to and from the elevator.”

You’re guessing the two younger boys had let it slip out but you disregard them for now, “Oh… right…”

“So, what about him?” Jeno questions.

“Just… I don’t know who it is….”

Jeno turns to you and you’re taken aback by how tired he looks. Sure, everyone in this damn office repped the good ‘ol panda eyes, but Jeno’s hair was a bit dishevelled, eyes half closed from fatigue. You choose not to point it out.

Jeno’s words register in your head and your brows furrow, “Wait… how do you know they’re a he? I didn’t say anything about him unless…” You don’t quite notice the way Jeno freezes up only because he wasn’t moving much beforehand. “Unless you know who he is!”

Jeno shakes his head, “Jisung told me!”

“I didn’t tell Jisung anything.” “You probably told Karina who told Chenle who told Jisung!” At this point, Jeno’s heart is beating at an erratically fast pace and he’s about to panic until Karina returns. She’s pouting, a tinge of disappointment evident on her face and Jeno takes this as his chance to escape.

“What did Jaemin say?” Your attention is easily pulled away from your friend, “Did he say anything?”

“No,” Karina grumbles, “I accidentally let it slip out that this was about your admirer and all he said was, 'Secret admirer, huh? Wouldn't you like to know.'” Karina mocks Jaemin’s voice, rolling her eyes. “But I guess that just proves that he knows something… it’ll just be harder to get it out of him.”

“Jeno’s being suspicious now, too,” you nod your head to the boy.

Sure it could be implied that your admirer was one of the guys, but the way the man had handled your questions was definitely something to take note of.

DECEMBER 10

“Please tell me you’ll be leaving after you finish this?” Another one of your coworkers, Minjeong, was standing at the edge of your cubicle, leaning against the divider. You can tell she’s ready to leave, hands stuffed deep into her pockets, “Everyone’s left besides Mr. Jo.”

Mr. Jo was the custodian.

“I will, I promise.” You don’t even look up from your screen, waving your hand in her direction as if it would make her scurry away, “I’m almost done. Have a good night, Jeongie!”

She returns your farewell and leaves, knowing that you won’t budge until you finish your task.

You genuinely were near completion. You just had a few more points in the report to finish before you reached your goal for tonight and you’ll go home.

Your fingers are flying across your keyboard, fatigued eyes blinking at the words you were producing in hopes that they were coherent. Your brain had shut down an hour ago and now you were on autopilot.

Who cares if it’s coherent if I’m going to edit it anyway? You think. And now you were carelessly typing, making typos left and right.

When you finally finish the draft, you grab your mug from your coaster to put in the office’s sink. Your eyes finally catch a break from staring at the screen for so long, practically feeling your ocular muscles relax. Closing your eyes, you blindly make your way down the pathway, which honestly was easy after the amount of times you’ve made your way down it.

But when your feet hit something that was obviously not as hard as a cubicle wall you freeze.

Shit.

Your eyes fly open and quickly look at what you have unintentionally kicked.

“Jeno?” You blink your eyes a couple times to make sure you aren’t just seeing things.

Sprawled out on his desk was Jeno, fast asleep. There was a small pond of drool underneath his cheek, mouth hanging open. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Jeno.” You feel the need to whisper now, leaning over to shake his shoulder. “Jeno!”

He begins to stir, “Huh? Wha?”

“What are you still doing here?” you ask.

One eye stuck closed, he glances around the empty office. The side that he had been lying on was flat as if he had been in that position for a while. Jeno yawns and stretches, his back popping a little as he sits up.

"I was waiting for you to finish," he mumbles, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands.

You glance at the clock on his computer screen, realizing it's much later than you thought. "Jeno, it's getting late. You didn’t need to wait for me."

He shrugs, a sleepy smile on his face. "I didn't want you to go home alone in the dark. Plus, I figured you might need some company."

You hit him on the shoulder, “You dumbass!”

Jeno winces even though you didn’t even hit him too hard. “Ow!”

“I didn’t even know you were here! Dumbass!” You throw another thwack at his shoulder blade, “You’re lucky I tripped over your foot!” Jeno ignores you and starts getting up, pulling out his packed bag underneath his desk, “You should’ve told me you were gonna wait for me.”

“Yeah, but then you would’ve pushed me onto the elevator so that I could leave,” Jeno replies. "Ready to head home?"

Although you and Jeno don’t live anywhere near each other, your place was on the way to his. Usually, you’d walk home and go sightseeing as you walked past the small shops on the way, but because the weather could freeze your arteries shut, you’re forced to transit home.

"Sure, let's go." You pack up your things quickly, and the two of you head towards the elevator.

As you wait for the elevator doors to open, you glance at Jeno. His eyes are still a bit heavy with sleep, but there's a warmth in them that makes your heart flutter. When he notices you looking, he tightens his lips to give you a tired grin that reaches his eyes. The office is quiet now, only the hum of the elevator breaking the silence.

Once inside, Jeno presses the button for the ground floor, and the elevator starts its descent. The dim lighting casts a soft glow on both of you, and you can't help but appreciate the peaceful moment.

"Long day, huh?" Jeno breaks the silence, his tone sympathetic. “Your secret admirer mystery still bothering you?"

You chuckle and nod, "Yes. But it just makes me more determined to figure it out."

"Any progress?" Jeno raises an eyebrow, curious.

You shake your head, "Not really. It's driving me crazy."

"Maybe it's someone you least expect," Jeno suggests with a playful smile.

"Maybe," you reply, unsure. The elevator doors open, and you both step out and into the nearly empty office lobby. Then you think out loud, eyes narrowing as you look at Jeno through your lashes, “Maybe it’s you.”

The cold wind hits you as you exit the building, making you shiver. You pull your coat tighter around you, and Jeno does the same.

“Why? Do you want it to be me?” Jeno smirks playfully.

“I don’t know,” you lie, “I’m just asking because there’s a possibility it’s you. Besides Chenle and Jisung, you’re the only one willingly asking about him.” That really couldn’t even mean anything, but it’s suspicious. You’re starting to think this was a joke set up by all the guys, and you’re the target.

“Nope, it’s not me,” Jeno stares ahead of you both, and you miss the way he swallows his spit when he says it, “And I don’t know who it is either. That’s why I’m asking.”

You look at him to detect if Jeno was lying—maybe a nose twitch, multiple blinks, or a dishonest glance to the side—nothing.

You feel your heart skip a beat, and not in the way you liked. Because, sure, you didn’t care about who this person was, but for the past week and a half, you’ve been raising your hopes that it was Jeno who had been leaving these presents for you.

You realize that that was a mistake.

A weak laugh shoots out your mouth, almost sounding like a huff and you force a smile on your face, “Well… that’s a relief.”

DECEMBER 15

Losing a bit of interest in your admirer just because it wasn’t the person you wanted it to be wasn’t fair to your actual admirer. Especially when they were still putting the effort into dropping off those presents and writing those letters.

The day after, you had told Karina that Jeno made it clear that your admirer wasn’t him and she refused to believe it, delusion taking over for your sake. She said something along the lines of ‘can’t say it’s not Jeno until there’s solid proof’.

This morning you decided to switch up your strategy and arrive at work early. For the past 2 weeks, these little deliveries had appeared on your desk either after you left or before you arrived, and since you had kept track of who left the office yesterday evening, you were sure that he was going to be coming in early this morning to leave his present.

You greet the security guard in the lobby, leaving your mouth more as a yawn than an actual sentence before you hop onto the elevator and cross your fingers for luck.

The office is quiet and dimly lit as you enter, the only sound being the gears of the elevators turning as the doors slide open. Once you step out, you’re quick to scan the room before ultimately settling your gaze on your desk.

The universe couldn’t have timed this any better.

Standing at your desk, you see a figure, gently placing a wrapped box on your desk. You hold back a gasp, clamping your mouth shut with your palm, not wanting to bring attention to yourself. The man appeared oblivious to the elevator letting someone off, his back still turned to you.

You catch the sound of his satisfied hum, and just before he pivots, you quickly move to a concealed hallway, keeping yourself out of sight. A lingering fear holds you back from confronting whoever this person is, but you so badly want to know who it is. You figured it would make the confronting part easier.

Footsteps grow closer before they stop, and you can easily guess he’s standing in front of the elevators. With curiosity getting the best of you, you risk being seen and lean your head around the corner, just enough so that one of your eyes can see who the boy was.

Another gasp attempts to leave your mouth when you finally recognize who it was.

Jaemin?

The elevator arrives at your floor before you can even process that it was truly him you just saw, almost as if you’ve seen his ghost and he was gone before you knew it.

So your secret admirer was Na Jaemin?

In a way it made sense. You and Karina had ruled him as one of the more suspicious ones. He and Jeno were close, so Jeno being curious about your progress added up. Now you have solid proof that Jaemin actually was your secret admirer.

How were you going to let him down easily?

DECEMBER 19

Despite having the weekend and Karina's assistance to strategize how to break the news to Jaemin, you found yourself at work on Monday without a clear plan. Today, you mentally braced yourself for another gift, feeling a pang of guilt as you realized your friend and coworker had been investing so much effort, only for his feelings to not be returned.

Today’s box was slim and rectangular, wrapped in the paper you’ve grown familiar with. At first glance, it looked like a wine box, but you quickly deemed it too short to be a wine bottle.

With a bit of hesitation, you carefully pick at the paper, ripping it open before you slice the tape that was keeping the box closed. Then you pry the box open, flipping the flaps over so that you can see the item from a bird’s eye view.

Huh?

You pull it out—an umbrella in your favourite colour. On the handle, your initials are engraved into the plastic. The umbrella looked beautiful, but considering the other presents, this was… random.

Your eyes catch sight of a card at the bottom of the box and you stick your arm in to fish it out.

I bet you’re curious as to who I am, right?

I think I kept you waiting far too long for a hint.

A hint?

Your heart picks up its pace and your eyes scramble to keep reading.

Today’s gift? An umbrella.

Bought one for myself and one for you because we need to be prepared next time.

I don’t know about you, but I didn’t enjoy being drenched in rain at work.

Your Secret Admirer

A hint.

Hell, it was more than a hint.

Your eyes grow wide as you reread the note over and over, your heartbeat fluttering. It flutters because you know exactly what your admirer was talking about.

Back during the rainy season, the morning you were getting ready for work, you completely disregarded the weather forecast and left your house without an umbrella or an appropriate coat. And much to your stupidity, you told yourself that it wasn’t going to rain that hard when you heeded the darker clouds in the sky.

You realized your mistakes on the walk to work when rain started pouring down from the sky, like someone dumping a bucket of rainwater all over you. You were sprinting, sight impaired by the rain pelting your face, flying past other individuals who had been smart enough to pack heavy-duty umbrellas with them.

Luckily, you finally arrived at your building before you were wet to the bone. When you noticed the elevator was still open, you called out for it, fast-walking through the lobby just so you could catch it.

“Thanks,” you had sighed out, huffing in relief.

The man who had held the elevator open for you laughed and spoke up, “I take it you forgot an umbrella too?”

You laugh at the memory, remembering being thankful that you weren’t the only dumbass who didn’t bring an umbrella—that you weren’t going to be the only one on the floor who would be showing up soaked and dripping wet.

Because Jeno was that other dumbass.

Even with this realization, with this hard evidence that your admirer could actually be Jeno, you still recount your almost-encounter with Jaemin and the fact that Jeno had denied your accusations.

You find yourself caught in a web of conflicting emotions. On one hand, the thoughtful gesture of the umbrella brings back memories of that rainy morning with Jeno. On the other hand, the recent revelation and Jeno's denial cast a shadow of doubt on the identity of your secret admirer.

As you stand there, staring at the umbrella, your brain cells are desperately trying to think up a good explanation for all of this. The evidence seems to point to Jeno, yet you can't ignore the possibility that this might be an elaborate misdirection. Or maybe Jaemin was the misdirection?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the familiar voice of Karina, who has just gotten off the elevator. She notices the umbrella in your hands and grins, "Mr. Admirer? An umbrella?"

You manage a half-smile, the weight of the situation pressing on you. "It’s a hint. There’s a memory tied to it.”

Karina arches an eyebrow, intrigued. "Memory?"

You decide to share the story of that rainy morning with Jeno, how both of you got caught in the downpour without umbrellas. As you recount the details, Karina listens attentively, connecting the dots between the past and the present.

"So, you think Jeno might be your secret admirer because of this shared memory?" she asks, thoughtful. The way her expression brightens at the thought of your admirer actually being Jeno and not Jaemin—just like you wanted.

You shrug, uncertain. "It makes sense, right? But then there's the whole denial part. He flat-out said it's not him."

Karina leans against the reception desk, crossing her arms. "He probably just didn’t want you to find out like that. Maybe he's trying to surprise you later. Who knows?"

You sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and curiosity. "I just want to know. I’m this close to banging my head against the corner of my desk."

Karina snorts and nudges you playfully. "Confront him again but this time, give him no choice but to confess."

You consider Karina's suggestion, realizing that confronting Jeno might be the only way to unravel this mystery. Gathering your resolve, you decide to have a direct conversation with him, determined to get to the bottom of your secret admirer's identity.

DECEMBER 20

Who would’ve thought that confronting your secret admirer would be nerve-wracking? Cause what if it really wasn’t Jeno and you were making a fool out of yourself?

It’s your break and you’re sitting at one of the lounge tables with Karina and Minjeong, playing with the edge of your instant ramen cup.

You’re replaying how you want the situation to go down in your head. You want to go up to him, make small talk, he small talks back, you confront him, and he admits it—easier said than done. But your goal was to do it by the end of the day, mostly because you know that if you kept this going for any longer, you’d actually go crazy.

Minjeong and Karina are talking about something, you’re not quite sure what it was when Ningning joins in, “Did Giselle pass by?”

Karina shakes her head, “Haven’t seen her.”

Ningning pouts, “I was going to ask her someth—”

And again, you tune them out—not on purpose.

The voice in your head is screaming Jeno repeatedly and it’s driving you insane. You want it to stop, but the only way you can do so is by confronting him.

Then the door opens again and in comes Jeno and Jaemin, laughing about something Donghyuck and Mark related. Karina notices the way your eyes divert toward their direction and she tries to catch your attention, jerking her head in their direction. Eyes widening, you shake your head as if you were saying not now.

“Shit, I got coffee on my shirt,” you hear Jeno huff.

From where you were sitting, you could see Jeno turning to show Jaemin the coffee stain on his white shirt, pouting. Jaemin laughs, “That’s what you get for using a broken bottle. Just buy a new one.”

Jeno pouts, “You buy one for me, then.”

At first, you don’t pay attention to their conversation, passing it off as the usual banter between the two, but then it clicks. Your mouth speaks before you can even process everything, “It’s you!”

The room grows silent but, frankly, you don’t care because now you’re sure it was Jeno.

Other than the umbrella and the memory, the only other hint other than handwriting were the water and coffee stains that the cards were always covered in (and you and Karina were still unsure whether that was on purpose or not).

Jeno’s bottle was broken.

You rise abruptly, the chair screeching against the floor. Rounding the tables, you navigate toward to get to Jeno, heart beating against your rib cage. Once he is within your reach, you snatch him by the wrist and drag him out of the lounge room and into the hallway.

“Dumbass!” you smack his shoulder, “It was you! Liar!” You weren’t angry, in fact, you were laughing, disbelief etched on your face.

Jeno looks off to the side, “I… don’t know what you’re talking about…” He’s horribly holding a smile back, cheekbones growing prominent from his attempt.

“Don’t play dumb,” you say, “The umbrella hint was enough for me to know it was you!”

Jeno unleashes his smile, physically shrinking and lowering his head as his cheeks grow hot from your statement. “I didn’t think you’d remember it that easily…”

"You've been driving me insane, you know that?" You shake your head, still processing the revelation. "I even thought it was Jaemin for a bit. All this time, it was you!"

“Did you… want it to be Jaemin?”

You shake your head, “Honestly, I was relieved it was you… no offense to Jaemin. Why didn’t you admit to it when I asked you?”

“Probably a similar reason for why you said ‘that’s a relief’ when I said it wasn’t me,” Jeno counters, slowly regaining his confidence.

You chuckle, realizing the playful banter unfolding between you and Jeno. "Good point."

He grins, "Plus, watching you try to figure it out was entertaining." There’s a mischievous glint in Jeno’s eyes as he's holding back a smile.

You cross your arms, glaring up at him, "So you enjoyed torturing me?"

Jeno panics slightly, shaking his head, "No! It’s not like I was torturing you! It was just something fun! I liked seeing your reactions!"

You playfully roll your eyes. "You're lucky I like you."

Jeno freezes, “Wait, you like me like me?”

You look at Jeno as if he just said the dumbest shit that’s ever come out of someone’s mouth. “Lee Jeno, I literally told you I was relieved it was you and you think I don’t have feelings for you?” You want to smack him again.

“Yes?”

Smack.

“Ow!” Jeno rubs his arm and frowns.

“Of course I like you!” You��re looking up at Jeno, “I was working my ass off trying to figure out who my admirer was because I had hopes that it was you!”

Jeno's eyes widen with surprise, and then a broad grin stretches across his face. "You... really?" he stammers, almost disbelieving, “So would… this be the right time to ask you on a date?”

You stuck out your bottom lip and shrug, half-joking, “I mean… it’s the least you can do after putting me through all that.”

“You’re right,” Jeno laughs. He takes a step closer, looking down at you with the world’s prettiest smile, “So will you?”

“Will I, what?” you tease, staring back up at him.

“Will you go out with me?”

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi @reignessance

an: the answer is yes 👀,,, Felix's is up next and it's gonna be cute

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majorarenarde · 2 years

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Astrology Observations or whatever 🌱

🪷 Pisces placements genuinely take things to heart very easily- even jokes.

🪷 Taurus Suns have a very sleepy and slow energy to them

🪷 8th house synastry is very telepathic! You’ll think the same things at the same time and know just by looking Into each other’s eyes. Very Intense and instinctual! Especially moon here <3

🪷 9th House synastry focuses a lot on personal growth and betterment. A lot of debates of compromises to be made here.

🪷 Every synastry I’ve had where Lilith conjuncted Venus was a third party situation.

🪷 So many water moons I know struggle with their vices and addictions a lot. It’s super hard for them to cope with the intensity of their emotions and accept them. They really pretend to rationalize their feelings and use logic to run away, but it only makes it worse :(

🪷 Venus dom men and flirting with everyone 🤝

🪷 Pluto in the fifth tend to attract obsessive lovers and stalkers! Other planets in this house can also add to this energy.

^ My friend with mars and Pluto here had a very violent and pursuant stalker, a man I knew had juno and Pluto here and his stalker was an obsessive partner, I have Venus, sun, and Chiron here and a guy I was friends with from music class started stalking me after I avoided him when he put his hands on me; he kept asking what he did wrong.

🪷 Fire Venus Women 🤝 Powerful Goddesses

🪷 Sun/Moon conjunction is no joke. My coworker and I have this- and it’s platonic energy is very strong- they are constantly over sharing with me and spilling their heart, trauma, secrets, etc. I’m the moon. They even accidentally told me they loved me when saying goodbye.

🪷 the person I like right now has their Pluto square my moon and it’s my first time being the moon in that aspect- I really hate how much they see right through me and read my mind. It really makes me feel super exposed and vulnerable to them. I’m used to being the one with that power. On the other hand, I’m also seeing the frustration my lack of reaction causes. Hiding emotions, reactions, etc makes them super upset with my nonchalant attitude. I’m glad I’m learning to see the other perspective here haha.

🪷 4th house synastry will drag out stories from childhood, family, the past etc. The topic just always comes up in conversation!

🪷 9th house/jupiter/Sagittarius and being attracted to things foreign, unknown, and that they can learn from 🤝

🪷 when I find out why I’ve been attracted to Tauruses that are 10+ years older than I am,,, blaming progressed Capricorn Venus for now 😤

🪷 I have my Capricorn Mercury in my 6th house and everyone I work with is older than I am, I’m literally the youngest at my job 😭

🪷 Water placements are always artists and musicians! Recently quite a few of my Scorpio friends have been into making EDM, the pisces more of an indie vibe, and the cancers into really soft emotional melodic stuff.

🪷 Pisces Venus love to serenade. My coworker will just walk up to me and start singing my name 😭

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blessed1neha · 1 year

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Venus in various houses

Venus in a sign symbolises our romantic and sexual desires. But in real life, a person's needs are not always met by fate.

As a result, whereas the house of Venus provides a response to the question of "where and under what circumstances will our love be born/manifested," the sign of Venus just addresses the question of "how we love."

I observe that we are currently discussing those intensely trembling emotions and not at all about marriage relationships, which are examined in other indicators.

Venus is thus in:

The first house represents your innate beauty, charm, and love of your body. gives meaning to how you look. Generally speaking, people find it appealing and it has a natural sense of tact. He requires love and respect.

The second residence requires money and material comfort. Material possessions will in some manner play a significant role in both love and life in general. a sign of financial success in the field of beauty, especially when Venus is in harmony.

The third house is characterised by ease of acquaintance, a large network of relationships, the capacity to persuade others, and extensive communication. Perhaps a love of education, a passion for travel, a love of communication, and communication.

The peaceful Venus in the fourth house suggests a happy childhood filled with love and understanding. the desire to beautify your home in order to foster a cosy and loving atmosphere. Friendliness and emotional ties to the tribal structure.

Numerous books, lovers, and flirting are associated with the fifth house. adore the emotion of love. likes to have fun and celebrate holidays. It may show signs of "burning out of life." love for young people.

Sixth house: reading books at work or with coworkers. passion for dogs and regular activities. workplace adornment. If Venus is out of harmony, there may be feminine disorders or throat ailments. Workplace issues stemming from romantic interactions with an unbalanced Venus.

The seventh house represents partnerships and marriage for love. Publicity and social acceptance. diplomatic, kind, and attractive potential spouse.

Love, the eighth house, can both create and contribute to life issues. Love can erupt under 8th house settings, like road accidents, funerals, rock concerts, and anything else that could be disastrous. Acute life events tend to bring out feelings the greatest. Triangles, suspense, and risk-taking. Sexuality is crucial.

Falling in love with teachers, philosophers, religious leaders, gurus, and outsiders is a ninth house affliction. novels read when travelling, in universities, or abroad. idealised image of a spouse.

A career through romantic relationships and romances with high-ranking individuals go under the tenth house. Women support careers (in harmony with Venus). Venusian careers include those in the arts, beauty, design, business, pleasure, and romance. career progress through the use of charm, diplomacy, and compassion.

Novels with friends, novels in a variety of public organisations, and books in communities. emotional response to political and social issues. friendly emotional ties among friends.

Twelveth house - hidden connections that are secretive and secret. They frequently keep their connections and emotions hidden. a virtual partnership. love for a distant, unreachable thing. aversion to love. fantasises about ideal love.

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where-are-the-spooky-gays-2 · 1 month

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May write this later but sharing to get others to add on

Living my life like a best friends to lovers trope, me and my best friend staged a fake proposal at a restaraunt in order to get free cheesecake. This whole thing just smells like a cheesy fanfic about them.

Like, they walk into the restaraunt planning this whole fake-marriage-proposal on the fly, it's literally something they came up with in the parking lot. And because this restaraunt is hours away from their homes the chances of them coming back are so slim to nothing that "come on let's fuck around a little bit, maybe we'll get free dessert out of it"

"Okay"

Virgil is embarrassed and anxiously stimming the whole time, but he's excited cuz its so stupid it may actually work. The plan is that one of them (Virgil) will run to the bathroom, and Remus will pull the waiter aside and share the secret: "I'm proposing to my boyfriend tonight, I was wondering if I could order his favorite cheesecake ahead of time and you bring it out at the end of the meal?"

Virgil comes back out and they're giggling together at their stupid scheme. Once or twice they talk about if they should back out cuz "oh the waiter is telling all her coworkers" and "oh my god why are we doing this were roping in so many people into our lie"

"Imagine we go through with this and it doesn't even work"

They share a meal because the portionings at this restaraunt are absolutely insane (and it has absolutely nothing to due with the fact theyre broke college students and this is more cost effective, not at all). By the end of it there's still a third of it left. Virgil offers the rest of it to Remus to take home because "we got what I wanted to eat, you should at least be allowed to have the leftovers" and Remus is like "you enjoyed it so much, you should take it home"

And the cheesecake finally gets delivered, it's a chocolate-cherry-something or another. Across the plate is a cherry and chocolate drizzle spelling out "happy aniversarry" and Virgil is wondering when that aspect got woven into their lie. Suddenly he gets pulled up from the table by Remus. His hands shook as Remus got down to one knee, and now everyone is watching them and the waiter has Remus's phone and is recording the whole thing. He knew to expect this but the fact it was actually happening?? He could barely hear what Remus was saying.

"Virgil, we have known each other for six amazing years, and I got to call you mine for five of them. I want to take this moment and make you mine forever. Will you marry me, and have me as yours, for the rest of our lives?"

Virgil couldn't convince himself to speak but he nodded, and Remus pulled himself up and pulled Virgil into a hug. Virgil was still shaking, nearly losing his balance as he flopped back into the seat.

"Damn it. We don't have any forks."

Forks. Thats what Remus was focused on? Forks for what-- right, cheesecake. That was their mission. Free cheesecake.

God damn it, that felt way too real. Virgil needed to drag himself back into reality.

"It's nice to know that's how it feels even though it's fake. Can't imagine how amazing it will be when I actually get proposed to"

"I know, right?"

They get the check. Remus wordlessly reads over it and starts laughing, tossing it over to Virgil.

Virgil's face goes white when he reads the charge next to the cheesecake. "Ten dollars?!" He whisper-shouts. "Highway robbery. All that just to be charged for the cheesecake!"

"Maybe you should have stormed off in anger, and leave me in front of all these people without an answer. That probably would have gotten the whole meal comped."

Wow I kinda popped off sorry for the long post ✨️😔 I'm too lazy to make this an actual fic but maybe I'll put the whole thing together one day. Or someone else could do it for me

-🐀

Committing to the bit but also committing to each other <3 I L O V E this S O fucking much I feel so bad for cackling at the fact that they did all that planned out and everything just for them to still be charged poor Vee got feels too XD Next time Ree should just sneak into the back where the kitchen is and once the dessert is done make a run for it XD

#no need to apologize but whatever you may end up doing with it i know it'll be great <3 #dukexiety #remus sanders #virgil sanders #ts remus #ts virgil #sanders sides #thomas sanders #asks #answers #🐀 anon #not a countdown

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jiminsfault · 1 year

Text

His Muse | kth

— pairing: Artist!Kim Taehyung x reader

— genre: fluff, romance | Non-idol!Au

— word count: 4.4k

— summary: Insomnia was keeping you up at night, so you decided to go out for a nightly walk in the streets of Paris, where you met Kim Taehyung, who is in desperate need of someone to inflame his passions again.

— warnings: Obviously mentioning insomnia but just surface-level, it’s extremely unrealistic in some aspects but let’s be romantic about it, depending on which way you look at it Taehyung could also come off as a creep tbh…lmao, essentially coworkers to lovers

— A/N: I started writing this in 2018… kept on writing bits and then dismissing it for months. Now, finally, it’s here. Been on my masterlist as “coming soon” for years, but I did it!

masterlist

»Why do you have to work like this?« you question your brain that is once again keeping you up at night. »This damn insomnia is going to be the death of me« you grumble, exhausted from your busy day and now suffering even more from the sleepless night ahead of you. Once you realized that you wouldn’t be getting any sleep, you decided to get up from bed and leave the hotel room to go on a nightly walk. Now you circle the block of your hotel for probably the third time. Maybe getting some energy out of your system will help make you sleepy.

As you continue your walk, you reminisce about all the things you went through to regain a healthy sleep schedule. You started with yoga on a regular day in the week, which quickly turned out to be too much effort in your packed schedule, since you already had to work two jobs.

You also tried therapy, which helped a lot, but eventually the costs piled up too much. Medicine was your last resort and got you to the point of actually sleeping through most nights, but of course you had to run out the week of your well earned holiday.

Working two jobs was exhausting and you rarely had the opportunity to take multiple consecutive days off. So, you were planning on enjoying these days as much as possible — the lack of sleep, once again, disrupting that plan.

This is just your first night in Paris, the city of lights, love, and art. You had a tightly scheduled day right after your arrival at the airport, wanting to spend every day in its own way.

So today you went sightseeing, visiting the most common things, like the Eiffel Tower. Tomorrow you planned on visiting one or two museums that a friend had recommended.

For the third day you didn’t really plan anything, expecting yourself to be far too lazy after two days of walking to do anything, so perhaps you’ll just lay down in bed and read a book.

Had you known that you wouldn’t be able to sleep you would have of course brought more books with you on this trip.

The fourth day is actually a little secret of yours, you didn’t tell anybody about your plans — the risk of coworkers snitching on you was just too high. All of them were lovely indeed, but they do love to spread the newest gossip.

The truth was, you were not only on this holiday to relax and visit a beautiful city, but also for a job interview. A well paying job in this beautiful city was a dream come true.

You didn’t care to plan more than the fourth day, if the interview goes well you will truly just be savoring the last three days in this city before leaving and soon returning permanently. If the interview didn't go the way you wanted it to, you decided to just get an earlier flight, not wanting to be depressed in a place like Paris. It would be a waste of money and days you could spend earning more of it anyway.

You were wary of actually pursuing this job, teaching was far from what you did until now. Your past work experiences were all corporate jobs or part time jobs at restaurants, bars, and the likes. Seemingly not being able to stop your brain from rattling, you thought: what if someone better applies and they decide against you?

You’d be starting on step one again, having to apply at a multitude of different Art Universities to get the chance of an interview.

All of a sudden you crash into somebody. A tall man is staring down at you in shock, big eyes and his mouth open. Your expression is probably mirroring his, the collision pulled you out of your thoughts.

»I’m so sorry!« you exclaim, rushing to look around for objects he might’ve dropped when you ran into the broad man.

»It’s fine, guess both of us just weren't paying attention,« the man says and gives you a big grin. His cheeks lift up, giving him a cute and less intimidating look than just a few seconds ago.

You give him a once over. He’s handsome, his posture radiated confidence and his eyes were very sharp but now that he is smiling they had a nicer touch to them. You notice the uneven eyelids and a mole on the underside of his nose tip. You guess it isn't very visible for other people, but from your angle, being much shorter than the tall man, you see it clearly. His hands are hidden in the pockets of his long coat and his hair is partly covered by a barret. With the lack of light, you can only guess that it’s of a darker color.

»Are you done checking me out?« His very dark voice, you note that you’ve probably never heard such a deep tone, managed to pull your attention to his face again. You didn’t notice that you’d been staring. The realization made you blush. It’s dark, so of course he won’t see it in the dimly lit streets, but you could feel yourself heat up.

You force out a nervous chuckle. On any other day you would walk away after you made sure to apologize and check for dropped items, but you couldn’t seem to continue your nightly walk this time around. »What are you doing out so late, anyway?« He asks, still smiling, looking into your eyes and waiting for your answer.

»Uh, I was just… on a walk?« Great, talking casually to a stranger wouldn’t be on the list of your strengths, noted. But he laughs and to your surprise you’re not embarrassed by this, more amused and delighted. His laugh is very pretty, just like the man himself.

»Ah, I see. Well, I’ll let you continue your walk then, let’s pay attention to our paths from now on!« He gives you another smile before he raises his hand out of his pocket, notably very big, to wave a little and turn around. You stay there for a moment and watch him slowly walk away.

»He was nice,« you whisper into the cold air, smiling to yourself. The unexpected encounter made your mind less stressed, somehow. The stranger had a calming way about him. With newfound peace of mind, you decide to go back to your hotel room and try to get some sleep.

Your second day in Paris was lovely indeed. The art hung on the walls of museums was impressive and lovely to look at. Drawing had been a small passion of yours for long, but working every chance you get kept you from it for far too long. The sights were truly inspiring and so you decided to make your way to an art supply store to purchase a sketchbook and a few brushes. You could ponder about what you’d draw in a nearby park, perhaps? Nature in Paris was as beautiful as it gets.

With this plan in mind you made your way there, your phone navigation leading your way with your earphones in, trying not to seem as much of a tourist, but you probably do anyway.

Near the store, you stopped the route on your phone and put the device away in your pocket. When you open the door a bell above rings and echoes sweetly into the room to make notice of your entrance. Wooden shelves stocked with many art supplies fill the space. You could take your pick from any medium you’d like to paint with. Oil, water color, pencil,... You take it all in, think about what's best to buy and especially, what suited your bank accounts limits. Wandering along the shelves in deep concentration, you bumped into a hard chest. Just like last night, you come to face the same man. He still wore his smile and his eyes carried the same kind look.

»I see we were destined to meet again,« he said, his smile growing cheeky. »I was actually hoping to see you a second time. Do you often crash into people when daydreaming?« The man chuckles and holds his hand in front of his body, »official introductions are in order, I suppose. My name is Kim Taehyung.«

You returned his smile, although a bit more nervous as he seemed to be. »Were you really hoping to see me again or are you just trying to charm me?«

Your response made him laugh a little, but before he could say another thing, you told him your name. »Seeing you here must mean you’re into art?« You ask.

He nods his head yes. Delighted to hear this, you immediately start a conversation about art. Without hesitation, you ask him about his favorite medium, his style of painting and at last, his inspiration. At the last question he seems to lose his smile. Before, he joyously responded to all of your inquiries, but this one perhaps was too personal of a question. »You don’t need to share, if you’re uncomfortable,« you assure him.

»It’s not that I’m uncomfortable. It’s just that, as of right now, I’ve lost all inspiration,« he admits. »I was going to switch paints in an attempt to regain a bit of my passion.« Relating to this, you nod. Losing inspiration to do what you love — it is tough. No wonder his smile dropped at the mention of it.

You fear that your mishap might have ruined the conversation, but he bounces right back and returns all your questions, helps you choose the best products in your price range and wears his smile just like before. As a way of thanking him you invite him for coffee, but because of his plans he has to refuse. »Another time. I’m sure we’ll meet again.«

Before you could dare to tell him that you are in fact not a local like he is, he is already on his way and without exchanging phone numbers, impossible to reach. The prospect of not seeing him again before you leave Paris crosses your mind and sullies your mood. You suppose you’d just have to deal with it.

You go on to spend the rest of today and the third day of your stay painting the view from your hotel room window, a park and a bridge to distract yourself and get your mood back up. On wednesday evening you expected to have trouble sleeping before your interview the next day. But, to your surprise, your eyes feel heavy and sleep comes over you.

When you wake up, you get dressed and grab two of the paintings from yesterday, your previously prepared binder full of your older art and make your way to the interview. It was held directly where you’d work at — an art school. The thought of pursuing your life-long passion as a career is scary but imagining that this interview could be a success fills your heart with joy. Becoming an art teacher for students who live and breathe art just as you do seems like your purpose. For this reason, you want to try your best and hope to leave a great impression.

As you stand in front of the university's art-department building you keep positive thoughts in mind. Every step that you take in the direction of the stairs, along the hallway and near the room you're supposed to enter, shakes you up with anxiety. Nerves are running rampant more than ever as you hold the door handle and push it down. A deep breathe in, and you step forward into the room.

The broad room is bright, the white and high walls complement the wooden floors. Beautiful art decorates the walls and windows. You suppose on other days this is where students work on their assignments. But today, there are no art supplies laying around, everything is cleaned up nice. When you look to your left, there’s a long table. Three people sit at the table, two of them are conversing quietly, the third is scribbling something onto a paper in front of him.

The woman on the far left looks to the door first and her face splits into a smile. »Hello! Do come in, please.« You nod and smile, close the door behind you and step closer to the table. The woman who called you in pointed towards folded chairs that are leaned on the wall. »Grab a chair! Apologies, we just came back from our break, so we didn’t get to prepare the room.« You assure her that it’s fine, grab a chair and introduce yourself before sitting down.

»Very nice to meet you. I’m Madame Dupont, next to me is Monsieur Batiste and at last, Monsieur Kim. Monsieur Batiste and I are both teachers here. While Monsieur Kim does give lectures, his profession is fully dedicated to the arts. You might recognize him by his Pseudonym, Vantae.« She introduces from the left, starting with herself and going to the right, leaving the man who hadn’t raised his eyes up until now for last. The mention of Vantae makes you almost jump, you were always very fond of his work. The opportunity to meet one of your favorite artists in person makes this interview so much better. You keep your eyes on him, waiting to see his face and as you meet his gaze, you are surprised to recognize the man.

Vantae or Monsieur Kim, as in Kim Taehyung, the man who you’ve spent a great deal of this Tuesday with, talking about art. How come it never crossed his mind to mention that he was in fact an actual artist, with great talent? The shock hits your gut deeply but you can’t let it show on your face or hinder you from making a good impression on the other interviewers.

You clear your throat and take a deep breath in. Madame Dupont, seemingly leading the interview, holds her hand out and asks for your documents and the binder with your art. While she and the others look through your portfolio and comment on aspects that they like, you begin talking about yourself, per their request. You tell them of your great love for painting and how you’ve always felt at ease with a pencil or brush in hand. One or two questions to your drawings are asked that you gladly elaborate on and after exactly forty-two minutes Madame Dupont, Monsieur Batiste and Taehyung stand up to each shake your hand.

»It was great speaking with you today. We will definitely contact you in a few days and notify you of our decision. Your art is very promising and you would be a great addition to our team!« Monsieur Batiste beams when he speaks and holds your hand in both of his. The two others at both his sides nod in agreement.

Taehyung’s smile grows cheeky when you hold your hand above the table to reach for his. »Pleasure to meet you here today, Madame. I, as well, would more than appreciate your presence at this school,« he brazenly speaks. His words are laced with mischief, as are his eyes sparkling with.

You express your gratitude to receive the chance for this interview and emphasize that you’d love to take this job offer. A very positive feeling is settling within your chest as you leave the building and walk along the street. They were genuinely nice and made the interview a good experience. But the encounter with Kim Taehyung still sticks with you. He seemed to already expect you there, almost like he recognized you from the picture on your application to the school. It would explain why he was so sure to meet you again.

The call from Madame Dupont came exactly four days after you were back at home. The moment that your phone rings with a caller-ID you don’t recognize you pick up, already anticipating who it might be. »We’re so happy to tell you that you have been accepted as our next art teacher at the Pariser University of Arts!« She says, with almost as much excitement as you feel hearing it. »We want you to start as soon as you can move to Paris. Our team has been developing a schedule for you to adjust to teaching the students and we can’t wait for you to join us.«

After the call, you waste no time to write your resignation for your jobs and to prepare everything that needs to be done and taken care of before you leave the country — permanently.

After living in Paris for four months now, you can’t imagine leaving ever again. Work has been everything you hoped it would be and more. At the beginning you just followed Madame Dupont, Taehyung and Monsieur Batiste to their classes, attended to printing and copying documents and got to do the occasional stand-in class. Today, you’re still in training but get to work on your own most of the time. Your coworkers help you prepare for your classes and give you tips on how to improve student-involvement. You enjoy working, for probably the first time in your life. With time you’re starting to get along better with your coworkers — not only the trio that interviewed you, but also the whole rest of the teaching staff. But with Taehyung especially.

The first week you arrived, he kept on teasing you about how shocked you were when you found out that he is Vantae. He also admitted to recognizing you from your application, when the two of you met in the art shop. »I didn’t notice when we bumped into each other at night, but the day after it clicked. I’m a very curious person, you intrigued me… I just had to get to know you,« he confessed back then.

That day, he also showed you his in-school art studio. It is still a gorgeous sight, you’re in awe whenever you get to enter it. He only works there when he has lectures that day, so it’s not the full extent of what he’s tinkering with. Still, you can recognize Vantae in everything he creates. Even quick, messy sketches. But like he said in the art shop, inspiration has left him with blank canvases or unfinished projects and the frustration is always clearly visible in his face when he invites you to the studio.

Last time you were there, he invited you to come see his studio at home. The thought of seeing the place where Vantae painted some of his greatest works intrigued you so much, you agreed despite being antsy about spending your time off with him.

This leads you to where you are now, standing in front of his door. You take a few seconds to actually ring the bell but once you do, it doesn’t take long for it to swing open and reveal Taehyung and his usual smile. He swings his arm into the room to ask you to enter and that you do. To the right of the entrance area is a flight of stairs, but Taehyung walks through the door frame in front of you, so you follow him.

»I was just about to make coffee before heading up to the studio.« He said. »Do you want a cup as well?« You accept the offer and look around his place. The living room in which you are standing was huge and flooded with light from the big windows. A bar separated the area from his kitchen, where he leans against the counter. Behind him, his coffee machine is buzzing away as it’s filling the cups he put underneath. Once they are full, he hands you one of them. Both of you add milk and sugar to your preferences and then Taehyung starts making his way back through the doorway and turns to the staircase. »Let’s go!« he cheers on his way up.

He talks a lot about the different Paintings on his walls, the ones he hasn’t finished yet and the ones he wants to start. He begins sketching at his desk and you sit next to him to watch. Over the last few weeks he asked you more and more often to just do that — he never explains why. By now it’s become routine though, so you don’t question it anymore.

Every once in a while Taehyung pauses and crosses out what he drew or he erases the pencil lines and starts fresh. You can tell that the longer he keeps at it, the more his patience runs out. With time, he stops trying to fix or cover up his mistakes, but instead ends up crumbling his paper sheet together and throwing the whole thing away.

He finally closes his artbook and looks over at you with tired eyes, pouting. You can’t resist the coo that leaves your mouth.

»I can‘t seem to draw anything at all, lately. It frustrates me,« the earnest way he speaks about his thoughts and feelings makes you a little happy, you’re glad that he’s comfortable enough to confide in you like this.

»Maybe you need a new muse?« you suggest and absentmindedly bite your lip as you try to think of a solution to his problem. There needs to be something that could inspire him. You don’t notice him inching closer to you, not until his breath tickles your cheek. Taehyung isn’t pouting anymore. Rather than that, his face is full of mischief, like it was months ago after your interview.

»Can you sit still?« he hurriedly opens the artbook again, grabs a piece of drawing coal and gets to work. Your eyes widen with the realization of what he was doing when his eyes flicker up to your face and back down to the paper. Not wanting to interrupt the flow he seems to be in, you just sit still and wait for when he is done. When he is, he turns his artbook to you and shows off his work with a proud grin on his lips. It was beautiful, to say the least.

»Would you mind spending a little more time in my studio? I would love to try this with oil colors,« he carefully asks. It’s late and a part of your brain tells you to not stay with a man that you’re slowly overstepping your work relationship with, but you know that you probably can’t sleep well tonight anyway, so you agree to stay with him, despite your better knowledge.

»I wouldn’t mind,« you say to his visible surprise. »I enjoy your company and your art. If I can help you regain your inspiration, I’m more than glad to do that.«

To Taehyung, you carry the calmness of the ocean and he could really drown in your presence. Just looking at you puffing up your hair nearly makes him drool. Being alone with you for so long is going to make him crazy, he just knows.But you could really be the solution for the artist block that he has been struggling with for the past few months. What you said earlier made him realize that you already were his muse. Everytime you’re next to him when he draws, he feels himself regaining his inspiration little by little. Maybe all that was left for him to truly get out of his slump wasn’t to switch the medium but to find the right view to draw.

After you find your position again, he starts a draft of the painting he had in mind. You are of course the main focus of it, but the hard part is to find out what background will do your beauty justice.

Late into the night, Taehyung finally finishes the painting. All the coffee in the world couldn’t keep the two of you up any longer. You grab your things and follow him back downstairs, but before you could announce your departure, he takes your hand. »You shouldn’t walk home alone this late. Please, stay here.« He almost whispers this and pulls you towards his chest gently. You think about it for a moment, staying at his place would really cross the line of professionalism. Finally, the thought of sharing a comfortable bed with a warm blooded, handsome man like Taehyung won you over. You sigh and nod your head.

»Let’s go to bed, then.« You both smile at each other.

He gives you a toothbrush and together you stand in front of the sink and exchange the occasional glance. His hands touch your arms, your waist and hips. Always gentle and they never linger for too long — it’s comfortable. The question of who takes the couch is never asked and on an unspoken mutual agreement you both slip under the same blanket, his arm behind your head and your back against his chest.

The darkness in the bedroom envelops you. You only feel Taehyung’s chest rise and fall while you fall asleep quicker than you ever did before.

To be woken up in the morning by Taehyung’s now even deeper voice wasn’t on your list of possible outcomes when you moved to Paris. Nonetheless you really enjoy it. The shirt he gave you last night to sleep in covers you enough to stay decent and in his opinion makes you look even cuter than you did before. Bedhead and all.

He serves two cups of coffee and egg on toast after you beg him to cook you some breakfast.

»Seeing you like this…,« he mutters. »I’m afraid I can’t let you leave, you’re way too pretty. Can’t have anyone steal my muse from me.« You laugh together with him and hide your face in your palms. His attention stays on you the whole time. He can’t help himself — he rounds the bar to where you’re seated and lays his hand on the side of your face. »I adore you,« this, he said in a very serious tone, unlike before. »Please let me take you out to dinner sometime.« You look up from your hands and see the earnesty in his eyes.

»I’d love to,« you respond and he smiles.

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