GURUPOP’s Giveaway Event of Autographed CD’s of A-JAX!
[x] the word dick appears in this fic so i guess it could be considered rated R (not really i just like using that word). this ended up being longer than i intended and also dumber, i knew this meme was a bad idea. also, i don’t go through these so mistakes and incoherencies run rampant and at will. sorry sorry sorry
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When their managers caught Sunggyu and him fighting an hour ago and grounded them as if they were a couple of boys in their early teens misbehaving, Woohyun wasn’t able to contain a laugh. The punishment sounded like a bad joke, and he’s always been a big fan of those.
How to write a three-sentece fic OMG \whispers/ I’ll just do a three-paragraph fic yes yes
Woohyun walked through the hospital corridor, going against the flow of people trying to get out of there. His eyes roamed around, looking for a familiar face in the middle of the crowd. He finally caught sight of the caramel hair he knew so well.
Getting closer, he had to laugh at the other male’s situation. He asked himself how could Sunggyu, being as clumsy as he was, still be alive working as a nurse. Sunggyu was looking at the floor, his batteryless phone in hand, probably searching for the missing part.
Woohyun found the other’s phone battery lying near the wall behind the older and grabbed it before Sunggyu realized what was going on. “Let’s get out of here” He said grabbing the other’s hand and following the rest of the people still there, a smile gracing his lips.
shitty fic is shitty~ thank you <33
(noooooooo i hit ask limit T_T) (i also dont know what you ship so sorry, haha) Pairing: Woogyu AU: Uhhhh, Domestic
Woohyun hums a soft melody, tying on a blue apron as the pan before him begins to sizzle. He smiles softly as the toaster dings and the coffee maker blinks its finish- but his smile only becomes bigger when he feels arms hang loosely on his shoulders. "hyun~ is breakfast ready yet?"
anon i’m so sorry this is so late and also idk if this is what you wanted but still thanks for the request ;;"tell me your name, commoner" sunggyu orders. the man kneeling in front of him mumbles something—body rigid and head hung so low it touches the floor—but the ruler can’t hear it. "lift your head and repeat that. and this time, say it loud and clear."
the male does as told, and although his low-casted gaze doesn’t allow sunggyu to see his eyes clearly, he studies his face. plump lips let out a small, almost too passive, “nam woohyun, your majesty.”
"nam woo-hyun." the words leave the taste of something he can’t quite name, rolling off his tongue more naturally that he’d like it to. he shifts on his throne, un-crossing his legs to cross them back again. "how old are you?"
"what do you do for a living?"
"work on the fields," woohyun replies, still without looking up. sunggyu should have guessed, with the tanning on his skin after days spent under the sun and muscles on his arms.
"rice?" sunggyu tries, resting his chin on his hand. he’s not interested in the man’s life, in all honesty. these are all mere formalities. after woohyun nods, he smiles. "look up. do you want to tell me something?"
"i,"—woohyun licks his lips and sunggyu, without realizing, mimics the action—"didn’t mean what i did."
"oh, that." the ruler says, as if he could have forgotten. "you should have realized you don’t look at your king in the eyes, shouldn’t you?"
"i apologize for that."
sunggyu shakes his head. “speak when i give you the permission to.” he clicks his tongue when woohyun looks back down, abashed. “no, don’t do that. i told you to look up, didn’t i? look at me,” he says. “look at me like you did at the plaza.” when the eyes are set back on his, sunggyu feels the same chill trailing down his spine that when he first met woohyun, the boy that refused to bow down like everyone else.
for the first time in his life, he’s rendered breathless.
silence stretches between them before the commoner decides to speak again (and he has the guts to do it without permission). “your majesty?” he calls, tentatively. biting on the nail of his ring finger, the ruler hums. “what’s going to happen to me?”
sunggyu stops. “well,” he hesitates—this is a day full of firsts for him—”that depends.”
leaning back on his seat, the ruler stares at woohyun. he can’t put the strange sensation the man produces on him into words. “come here.”
woohyun opens his mouth, dumbfounded. “w-where?”
"here," sunggyu repeats. "i’m sure climbing two steps to be in front of me won’t represent such a hassle to you, would it? after all, you do hard work everyday." after woohyun does as he’s told, the king brings his hands up and runs his fingers through the other’s chest, his arms. "hard work," he repeats.
"your majesty? what—"
"do not speak unless i tell you to, don’t you understand?" sunggyu snaps, gripping the man’s clothing.
woohyun smells like something sunggyu has never sensed before—that leaves him overwhelmed.
"i’m sorry," the man flinches away and yet he doesn’t struggle further. might it be from fear or because he doesn’t want to, sunggyu doesn’t let go.
"tell me why you did it." something nobody has ever done before and had the privilege of living afterwards. "why you looked at me like that."
like you wanted me.
woohyun falls on his knees like a puppet whose chords have been cut. he’s at eye-level now. “i was curious,” it’s all he says.
and the ruler sees it now. ripe rice, smoke, the spices of the market, sweat, rough hands and a rougher body and plump lips and golden skin and sweet, sweet secrets—woohyun’s made of that and more. (and sunggyu can’t help but want it all.)
"what are you curious about?" he asks, mischievous smile blooming on his face.
the commoner’s eyes fall—to his lips, the ruler finds out to his delight—and then come back. “many things, your majesty.”
"and do you want to find out?" he smirks, pushing his lips against thin air, and pulling himself back when woohyun comes close. "about the things you’re curious of."
"yes," it comes out, barely more than a breath.
that’s all sunggyu needs to know.
"guards," he calls to the men huddled in the corner—stone faced, silent monsters—"please escort him to my room."