Hey love can I request #31 for SS please hehe ;)
prostitute sex worker/client au
A/N: rated light M. because obviously.
Sometimes, in the height of it all, Sasuke found it all too easy to forget about how this all started out. To forget that the woman writhing naked on top of him was Miss Cherry Blossom, an escort—a sex worker; to forget that he was her client, her buyer. To forget that in the beginning, he had only paid for the service of her company to have her attend one of his father’s high-end events with him, saving him from his mother’s constant pestering in regards to his lack of dates.
Because to him, in moments like these, full of heat and earnest feelings, exposed to their souls with their hearts wide open, she was only ever Sakura.
She was a pretty thing, he remembered thinking back then, all graceful lines and lovely smiles, her odd-colored hair pulled up in a stunning do as her red dress flowed elegantly from her form. His brother hadn’t lied to him when he’d told him the agency specialized in the luxurious. But pretty as she was, still, Sasuke had never had intent to take her to bed, too considerate of her choices, her life; of her kindness and sweet demeanor. She was too pure for this kind of work, he’d mused to himself.
Which is why it had surprised him when she’d leaned in and kissed him that night on the porch of his lush, palatial home, fingers slipping so tenderly through his locks.
“You don’t have to pay me extra for this,” she’d told him as she parted, gingerly pushing off his suit jacket from his shoulders. The look in her green, green eyes was as warm as it was sensual. “I like you.”
It was the easiest thing he had ever caved to.
For hours, they rolled around in the sheets, whisked in a flurry of passion. They touched, and kissed, and moaned, moving in a sweaty mess of intertwined limbs until satiation took them both in explosive frenzy, sapping the last of their strength. Astonishingly, Sakura only ever seemed genuine in the way she responded to him, sounds soft and saccharine, body shuddering all too delightfully, lacking the usual excessive enthusiasm sex workers were too often told to have.
Sasuke couldn’t help but to take a little pride in that.
“This wasn’t what you expected, was it?” she’d asked him afterwards, one dainty finger tracing affectionately down the line of his jaw.
He blinked, brows furrowing, the hand brushing her slicked side halting in its caress. “What?”
“The sex. You were expecting something different.”
When he made to deny, she giggled and went on, “Yeah you did, don’t deny it! A lot more moaning, thrashing, screaming your name—”
He’d kissed her then to shut her up, long and hard in an effort to make her lose her thoughts. She only laughed, but returned his kiss anyway, humming a faint, pleased noise.
When they broke apart, she looked at him, a small, shy smile to her lips. Something in his heart warmed at that.
Before he knew it, he found himself asking, “What’s your name?”
Another giggled slipped from her mouth. “Well that,” she teased, “will cost you extra.”
Sasuke didn’t care about that—he just needed to see her again.