#Fifty Shades AU
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rexismycopilot · 9 months ago
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PALPATINE IS COMINGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
Yes 🥲
And I just posted the new chapter...
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tomicaleto · 2 years ago
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Engagement pictures!
--
A commission for @rexismycopilot
A scene from her fic Fifty Shades of Growth and Commitment from her Fifty Shades universe 
“Hey, Obi-Wan,” Anakin whispered from above Obi-Wan.
“Yes, baby?”
“I really love you,” Anakin said.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” Obi-Wan promised, a warm smile emerging on his face.
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strwberrytae · 1 month ago
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Beyond Desire | 05
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→ pairing: taehyung x reader → rating: 18+ only - m for mature - sexual and graphic content → genre: drama / romance → words: 9.9k → disclaimer/trigger warning: this is a piece of fiction based off of the fifty shades of grey series. this is not a parody. there are mentions of strong dominant and submissive lifestyles based on research and personal experience. there are also various psychological issues that are addressed throughout the series; including anxiety, self-destruction, blood, bruises, panic attacks, childhood abuse, non-consensual sexual acts and self-harm. this is a work of fiction and not to be taken as a promotion of the series, fifty shades of grey. this is an original piece of work. edit is created by me. enjoy! feedback is greatly appreciated.
→ a/n: thank you everyone for their patience! so much! I started this series years ago with the intent to continue it. life and lack of motivation got in the way, but it's made it's way back into fruition! this was frantically edited multiple times, though there still may be some errors. I hope you enjoy!
→ chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 [series in progress - must read previous chapters]
→ summary: it’s never easy falling for your best friend when you have so much history. it’s especially difficult when you both share the same sexual desires and lifestyle. taehyung is a dominant CEO of a well known company in Seoul and you are an up and coming editor. while both of you come from a troubled and dark past, you lean on each other for support and comfort. what happens as your feelings blossom and grow over the years? what happens when you fear Taehyung may be falling in love with someone else? will you confess your feelings or remain in the shadows?
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The next morning, Joon Jae awoke at 6am as you realized he did every morning for work. You laid in his bed, so tired but awake. Your restless mind forbade you to sleep peacefully throughout the night. It was unclear how you felt, truly. Such an interesting feeling. 
All you knew is that you were stuck with the familiar dread of emptiness that you had experienced many times before. It felt as if you became a vessel overnight yet again whenever you've done this; letting men completely take over and dominate you in ways against your wishes as if it's perfectly normal. Not to say that’s what the BDSM lifestyle entails. In the past, you’ve had a bad run of Doms who didn’t truly grasp the concept of consent. Men who think they're dominant, on the contrary, they're just abusers. Looks like Joon Jae is just another one. The only thing to do now is play along until you figure out how to escape this - safely.
Joon Jae emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his damp, onyx hair with a towel and a satisfied smile on his face. 
“Morning gorgeous,” he greeted with his award winning smile. The term of endearment felt everything but. The word curdling in your ears. Turning over to face him, you put on a face as well as you always could; as if you hadn’t been utterly violated by this man the night before. 
“Good morning, sir,” you purred sleepily. The bitterness coated your tongue as the words came out. Whether or  not he caught on was not clear - most of them didn’t. As Joon Jae walked over to his black wooden dresser, you continued to lay on your side. Something caught your interest in the corner of your eye. Your gaze fell to your wrists. The handcuffs.
Upon your wrists were bruises from last night; a deep red color fresh in hue. It would certainly darken to purple throughout the day. You began to nibble on your bottom lip as you nervously checked under the blankets for more markings. Peppered on your hips remained fingerprints. They were not markings you were proud of - not like this. Bruises from the right person made you feel empowered, cherished. This was abuse of power - hatred. Your loathing for them grew rapidly; even though they've only just became a part of you.
“Why are you so quiet? Did I wear you out that much?” Nonchalantly, you place the cover back down as if you were only fixing it. Turning your head to face Joon Jae, he pulled on his boxers with an idiotic smirk on his face. His form was still beautiful, yet you were so disgusted by him now. Your eyes couldn’t help but to wander over his body; inspecting him. There was nothing - not a bruise or scratch. Here you lay in his bed completely marked and emotionally wounded by him and he gets to go to work without having to hide a single thing. Typical.
Letting out a big sigh, you sat up in the bed; making sure to cover your body with his gray silk sheets. Ever so slowly do you run your fingers through your hair and gracefully lick your lips to look as innocently seductive as possible. It was time to put on a show, and you were used to this performance. A sly smirk stretched on your face as your eyes became softer. After all, you still have some dignity left. That is something he can’t rob from you.
“And here I thought a little mystery to a woman was appealing. Does my silence bother you, sir?” Your voice slithered with seduction; hoping your little innuendo granted you his kindness with your performance. Joon Jae was a man after all, and you knew how to handle his type - call him Sir, Master. Obey, say please, submit. No matter what, or else. This was a man that got off feeling like he was the greatest thing on this Earth. A man who loved knowing that his submissive was actually afraid of him, displeasing him. To you? He’s the most disgusting person you have ever met. 
The dark haired man sauntered over to you, grabbing hold of your chin with his index finger and thumb. A soft yet firm gesture to make you look up at him without protest, yet it felt so putrid.
“Was that sarcasm in your voice that you heard,” he questioned in a quiet tone. And there it is. His lips were barely moving as he spoke; an indication telling you that he didn’t find your comment too cute after all. You subdued your flirtatious attitude and retreated back to what you knew best - submission.
“No sir,” you whispered in a soft voice. He hesitated before letting you go. After a moment of cringing silence, a smile appeared on his face as if he was just messing with you. Using fear to make you submit, and then flipping a switch - how sadistic.
“Good girl. Get up and get dressed. I’ll drop you off at work.” Fighting back every morsel inside of you, you swallowed your pride to obey. You need to come up with a plan when you’re in a safer place. As such, you responded as you always do, following his instructions with a charming smile on your face. 
Just as you suspected, the extra dress you brought with you came in handy as you anticipated staying the night. Your naked reflection in the mirror sent chills down your spine. Bruises peppered your skin with revulsion brewing inside of you . There were bags under your eyes as lack of sleep dragged them down. To put it mildly, you looked like hell. No matter how many times you've seen this sight from past failed relationships, the pain you felt in your heart still aches at the same intensity. You’re yearning for love grows more desperate. For real love.
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A week’s time flew by as an absolute blur. To say you had quarantined yourself was an understatement - scared to face the world in your vulnerable state. You had completely submerged yourself into full submissive mode. It was all you could do to survive. The fear of what Joon Jae would do to you had clouded your mind as your dark thoughts took over. No matter how hard you tried to think of ways to part ways with him without retaliation, it was useless. There was a desperation coursing through you to reach out to Taehyung. No, you couldn’t. He would drop everything to aid you - fix the problem. It would be a burden. Instead, you carried on with your week as usual. 
Dealing with Taehyung was easy. Whenever he asked to see you for lunch, you were busy in meetings. Important meetings with clients were underway thanks to Jisoo making you as booked as possible per your request. Taehyung knows how dedicated you are to your work, and he has all eyes on any projects you’re working on. Nothing out of the ordinary for the new Commissioning Editor, right?
In all honesty, you were legitimately busy besides the tedious work you’ve added to your pile. Your contract with GQ Korea Magazine, Joon Jae’s magazine, was reaching its end which means long hours, lots of editing, and lots of problem solving. You promised them that by the end of the month, you would increase their profits via online and social media by forty percent. Your coworkers told you that it was too risky to promise such a big turnaround, yet that didn’t sway you. 
Typically, Kim Publishing worked with writers of novels, short stories, and more of the like. Occasionally, they worked with other companies that seeked better publication and production of their materials - online revenue. Working on this project ensured that while you were trying to remain distant from the world, you could see Joon Jae throughout the days without being entirely alone. Safe.
When he demanded your presence at night, you showed up at his apartment and gave him anything he wanted. Joon Jae did not hold back his passion for pain in forms of pleasure when you were together, but you had finally voiced for him to be cautious with marking you too much. Taehyung’s father’s charity ball was approaching, so requesting to avoid bruising wasn’t exactly unheard of. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop him from putting bruises in places he knew no one could see. 
As time progressed, you found yourself reaching a breaking point. Typically, you loved seeing marks tattooed on your body as a reminder of your nights of lust and dominance over you - but not with him. Every time you saw your Dom, you felt like you were going to be sick. Faking orgasms was getting harder each day. Although, as Joon Jae was a purely self-absorbed man, he didn’t really notice. 
At last, it was the day before the ball. Arrangements were made to leave work early so you could go home, and practice your song one last time before you had to perform it at the charity ball. You just wish you had the energy to be remotely excited about it. This was supposed to be your night to release your true feelings through the sound of music towards Taehyung. Although, here you were, in a relationship you couldn’t get out of. You're almost positive that Taehyung’s relationship with Yuri has only blossomed wildly this past week. Naturally.
When you arrived at your apartment, it was shortly after noon. Any other day, you would have grabbed lunch by now, but you've completely lost your appetite. It’s been like this all week. You've been surviving on ramyeon and espresso coffees all the while. Luckily, Joon Jae was going to be out of town today for an event, and wouldn’t be back until the ball tomorrow. You were relieved to finally have a whole day to yourself without twitching at the thought of him arriving at your doorstep any minute or ringing your phone. 
Once inside your apartment, it felt warm from the sun beaming inside of it. Perks of having a home with large windows in place of exterior walls. For once, you felt like you could breathe as you closed the door, greeted with silence. Your feet dragged you to the bedroom as you dropped your contents one-by-one on any surface you passed by on your way. Walking in a zombie-like state as your body starts to feel like putty, your body relaxes with each step. A hot bath would be absolute heaven right now; perhaps a glass of wine too. 
As you take off your cardigan, you hear something shift behind you. You turn around, gasping from shock before easing into instant relief and butterflies. It was your best friend standing there so casually.
“Jesus, Taehyung. You have to stop doing that. You almost gave me a heart attack. Honestly.” You clutch your chest with your hand over your rapidly beating heart. Although who knows if it’s because he scared you, or if this is just how your heart always beats around him. Likely the latter. 
Taehyung stood there, examining you. He didn’t say a word, but instead walked up to you blatantly looking you over you with a fiery gaze. And yet, in the same gaze seemed to be softness with concern. You had to subdue the inappropriate thoughts that instantly came to your mind. With a sense of security, and belonging that was not earned, your submissive side called out to his dominant side as he towered over you. He reached to cup your face, but you flinched ever so slightly by accident. This caused him to worry; melting to a sheepish stance. 
Taehyung’s touch had never bothered you before. He knew it was always platonically welcomed by you. At this moment, a look of hurt appeared on his face. With caution, Taehyung slowly proceeded to cup your face again, gently turning your head side to side as he looked you over. It was no secret that he was truly concerned about you. 
Out of shame, you couldn’t dare look him in the eyes as fear began to fill you; fear that he would see right through you. Taehyung released you, standing before you with a softer demeanor yet he still held a dominant presence. His aura made you want to run into his arms, but you refrained.
“Y/N, how long has this been going on,” he inquired in a low, calm tone. You pulled your oversized cardigan back over your shoulders to bring you extra comfort; suddenly feeling cold and uncomfortable. Just as your anxiety crept in, you noticed that Taehyung seemed fidgety in the slightest. He tried his best to hide it, but you can see his hands twitching inside his pockets.
“What do you mean,” you asked quietly as an attempt to hide your little secret. Swiftly, you move away from him to head towards the kitchen for the glass of wine that you desperately need right now. You could easily sense that Taehyung wanted nothing more but to stop you in your tracks. He suppressed the urge to interject as it wasn’t his place. His arm stopped abruptly as he removed his hand from his pocket, re-routing to “adjust” the hem of his shirt. He followed you to the kitchen casually. 
As you grabbed a bottle of merlot, pouring a reasonable amount for yourself, you took a deep breath. Following suit, you poured another for Taehyung as you know he would desire to join you. The first sip didn’t calm your nerves as much as you would have liked but the second one helped a little more. Taehyung took a respectful sip from the glass and maintained eye contact with you. His stare burns into your skin as you become flush with heat.
“Y/N. Answer the question,” he said in a firm voice. This time you looked up at him immediately without hesitation. Your submissive instincts take over as easily as they always do around him. Taehyung wasn’t dressed for work. Casual attire in loose jeans and black t-shirt; something that always looked good on him. You sighed softly as you realized just how much you missed him this past week. 
You’ve barely spoken, and you skipped out on your weekly therapy appointment with Yoongi. That’s probably why he was here. Therapists are supposed to keep client confidentiality unless you’re Kim Taehyung who seems to always get what he wants. It was ridiculously infuriating sometimes. It’s not like Yoongi flat out tells Taehyung information but he’s really good at pointing him in the right direction. Why does he even bother? Knowing that the inevitable conversation was about to take place, you took your glass and went back to your room. Taehyung flattened his pillow-like lips, and made way to follow you yet again. For someone that had so little patience, he always seemed to be wildly patient with you. 
“I told you I was busy this week,” you retorted with a shrug as you took another sip of wine, “I didn’t even have time to meet with Yoongi. Once this contract with GQ is done, I’ll meet with him, okay? If that’s your worry. You don’t have to interrogate me. Now, if you don’t mind, I was planning on taking a bath. Why don’t we catch up tomorrow at the party?” Your defensiveness took over like a prey-worthy animal in a corner - oversharing when caught. 
There was desperation in your voice that you could not hide so easily. Taehyung couldn’t hold back,  and reached out to grab your arm. He pulled up one of your cardigan sleeves in a quick motion, revealing the bruised lining around your wrist. You panicked to pull the sleeve back down and dropped your glass of wine. The red liquid spilled on the wooden floor as glass shattered around your feet. In the face of a small scare, you had never been so grateful as to not have carpeting. Red wine stains are the worst.
“Shit,” you whispered. You rolled your eyes as you took a step to get towels - frustrated with yourself. Taehyung stopped you in mid-step. His touch and rapid motion do not trigger you. The air stills. In the face of his dominance, you feel safe. Safer than anything and anywhere else in the world. His warm touch makes your legs weak.
“I’ll take care of it,” he lets out a sigh with worry. You bite your bottom lip, and look down at the ground to avoid his beautiful eyes - gentle almonds filled with care.
“It’s happening again, isn’t it,” Taehyung asked with calmness in his voice, evident with disappointment but primarily worry. He let out a frustrated sigh. Knowing exactly where you keep your cleaning essentials, Taehyung grabs the items effortlessly. His focus truly never leaving you.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N? You promised that you would tell me if someone was taking advantage of you again so I could help you. How can I help you if you shut me out? Don’t you care about yourself? This is...” And then it happened, you shut down. Taehyung stopped himself from proceeding forward as he realized his overreaction wasn’t making you feel any better. What you really needed right now was comfort, not a lecture. 
The atmosphere stilled with silence as you fell into submission. Speechless with no words clouding your mind, and too timid to look him in the eyes. Everything went blank. He was right. Leaving him out of this was doing more harm than good, and yet here you were shutting down instead of running to him. Honestly, you didn’t know how to pull yourself out of your head. It was suffocating. Taehyung knelt before you as you spiraled. A soft breath escaped his lips.
“I’m sorry, Taehyung,” was all you could manage to say. A bashful response as you felt that you had  disappointed him. Internally, the inner demons you harbored convinced you that he was angry with you and would leave your side. Your best friend tilted his head to try to look at you. A soft, tender gaze looking at you with the sweetest smile on his lips. He reached to brush the hair falling near your eyes. Tears prickled your eyes as you melted into his touch.
“No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things. That’s not what you needed. I put my worry and needs before yours when you’re clearly not in the right state,” he let out a soft sigh with worry evident on his face. 
“What can I do to help you trust me?” He took your silence as an answer, and looked over your covered body. He took notice that you managed to cover every possible inch of you, even on a warm day. Words remained silent on your lips.
“How bad is it,” he continued kindly, “Please. Share your pain with me. Let me in.” Just like that, he unraveled you. Every wall came crashing down as the desperation in his voice made you yearn for him. Suddenly, the words flowed from you so easily; from your first date to the first time he punished you, to the hard limits he abused. 
“I was going to text you the first night it happened but...I was too scared. I submitted to him in more ways than I wanted to. I felt so pathetic,” you looked at him with tears in your eyes, “Please don’t be upset with me.” Taehyung’s nostrils were flaring. He was trying so hard to contain his anger towards the man that abused his power over you. After a couple of deep breaths, he stood up and held his hand out to you.
“Come on. I’ll draw you a bath. We’ll talk about this once you get some sleep. You look like you haven’t slept all week,” he said in a low, soothing voice. As much as you wanted to protest, the mention of sleep made your eyes heavier. Delicately, you took his hand and nodded. With his arm around your shoulder, he led you to your bathroom. He knew where everything was and drew you a lavender scented bath - your favorite. After grabbing a towel, he turned to leave but stopped.
“N/N...can I see them? The marks,” you froze in place as his question made your cheeks burn. The marks on your body ranged from your wrists to the back of your hips, and the round mounds behind you. The crimson hue to your skin reached your ears. Taehyung has seen you naked before but that was by accident. One shower incident, not knowing he was inside your home as you danced to the kitchen to grab a snack. One very embarrassing incident - and he laughed. 
You know it’s nothing sexual, yet it’s still inadvertently intimate. Even stripping down to your underwear, you’d be so exposed to him. Surprisingly, you considered showing him, to be seen by someone else and feel validated that these marks are just as putrid as you see them. This boundary… Is it appropriate to cross it? He is your best friend after all - the person you trust most.
“The marks? They’re in private places, Tae. I don’t think Yuri would like that very much.” Taehyung stiffened and for once, he seemed slightly embarrassed. Maybe it’s because he’s not used to having a girlfriend and didn’t think about that. He took a step closer and handed you the towel.
“Yuri doesn’t control me,” he said in a stern voice but then softened, “You’re my friend and I- I need to see them. I need to know.” There was sincerity in his eyes. It almost seemed as if he was scared. Is he punishing himself for what happened to you? You've only seen this side of him once before. 
You were in the hospital after a bad session with one of your past Doms. Taehyung was away on a business trip for a week and when he came back, you were asleep in the gurney with several bruises and a cut lip. He thought you were asleep, but you could hear his tears and his apology for leaving you; promising he would never let this happen again. On the outside, you looked like you would be fine but he knew you wouldn’t be - not mentally. Perhaps this would be proof to him that this was real yet again. With a soft nod, you slowly began to undress.
Out of respect, Taehyung kept his distance; taking a step back as you did so. First your cardigan, then your knee length dress that hugged your curves - leaving you in your bra and underwear. Surely that would be enough for him to see the bruises that peppered your body - now shades of yellow, green, and brown. His eyes started making their way across your skin. You bit your bottom lip, and watched his gaze. It gave you chills in a way of vulnerability but also, arousal. Thankfully your bra was padded, otherwise he would be able to see how much his eyes affected you. Your nipples were erect, and your underwear damp with need. 
Desperately you wanted him to touch you - hold you. You wanted to feel his hands caressing your body in ways it’s never felt before. Somehow you knew that his touch would heal you. It would make you feel no pain, only happiness. Something fierce turned in you, and it took every ounce of your being not to speak up. Taehyung did something that surprised you. His coffee-brown eyes seemed darker or maybe it was in your imagination. 
He took a cautious step closer to you. His eyes remained on your hips where the worst bruises rested. On each side, beneath the black fabric that hugged your hips, bruises in shapes of fingerprints - marks of Joon Jae’s nails that had pierced your skin. Your breath became shaky as he stood before you. It was like he was hypnotized by your marks, yet you couldn’t read what was churning in his mind. He extended his hands and slowly reached for your hips. His fingertips brushed over your skin. His eyes moved to yours to look for a sign, expecting you to wince from pain or hesitation of his touch. Little did he know that his touch relaxed you beyond compare. 
“S-see...it’s not that bad,” you whispered as you met his gentle gaze. Something shifted in his eyes as your eyes locked, something you've never seen before. You weren’t sure what it was. Yet, he just stood there - unwavering his eyes.
“Taehyung-”
“I should go. I have to take care of something before the ball. Thank you…for showing me,” he said softly. You nodded as he released his gentle hold on you, leaving you cold and in need of his touch again. 
“Min-hyuk will pick you up at 7 tomorrow night. I’ll be wearing a black mask. Come find me when you arrive, okay?” A lighthearted chuckle escaped you as he handed you the towel to cover yourself.
“A black mask in a sea of other masks? I don’t think that’ll be too hard.” He smiled back at your little joke, and left you alone in your bathroom. As soon as you heard the door closing faintly in the distance, you felt like you could breathe again. Your body was on fire as you could still feel his touch. It felt like electric waves coursed through your veins just in a few seconds. 
Turning to the warm bath that awaited you, the bath he drew for you, you sighed. When you discarded your bra, your nipples perked just as you knew they would. It was no surprise that when you eased your underwear down your legs, a string of arousal clung to them as your core remained swollen. As usual, the bliss of your own fingers, imagination, and a soothing bath will have to ease your ache for yet another night.
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Not a single word out of Joon Jae today. It wasn’t unusual but since he was returning today from his trip, you figured you would have had a message from him with instructions for tonight. Although it’s not like you’re complaining. His silence is your saving grace.
As you sat in the back of Min-hyuk’s car, you watched the traffic as it rushed by. He looked in the rearview mirror to glance at you. Your mask wasn’t in place yet as there was no reason to hide your identity just yet. There was never a need for a divider between you as he was your friend as well.
“Miss Y/N,” he said from the front. Your gaze met his in the mirror and smiled in turn.
“Yes Min-hyuk?” Min-hyuk’s eyes flickered between you and the road to drive safely. He watched the road as he spoke.
“You look very beautiful tonight. I hope you smile a lot tonight. You deserve it, N/N.” His words made your heart skip a beat. Min-hyuk was like family to you. Almost like an uncle but more of a dear, old friend. He told you once that he hopes his daughter grows up to be like you, and that was the greatest compliment he could have given. Although, for both of their sake, you hope she becomes much better; stronger and wiser, just like her father. Min-hyuk stopped the car as he pulled into the Kim’s driveway. Grabbing your mask to put in place, you leaned forward to get closer to Min-hyuk. You gently placed your hand on his shoulder to kiss his cheek.
“I don’t know what I would do without you, Min-hyuk. Thank you.” He smiled back at you whilst trying to remain professional, he averted his gaze straight ahead. Various people in all colors and shapes cascading into the radiant home. So many elegant gowns with elaborate details to match the masquerade theme. A gentle thought crossed your mind and you couldn’t resist.
“Why don’t you go home? I can easily find a ride home. Besides, I’m sure your daughter would love to see you at a decent hour.” There was a sparkle of hope and admiration in his eyes that you couldn’t help but to adore. 
“Don’t worry. I’ll let Taehyung know I relieved you. I’ll take the scolding.” It was obvious that Min-hyuk tried masking his excitement but you could see right through it. With the slightest of smiles but the fullest heart, Min-hyuk got out of the car to open your door. You got out and stood by his tall, broad form.
“Thank you, ma’am,” he responded. Smiling at him, you squeezed his forearm gently.
“Have a good night, Min-hyuk.” With that, you sauntered off into the night to join the rest of the mysterious guests of Min-ho’s masquerade ball.
The Kim’s home, that had always been your safe haven, had transformed into a modern renaissance extravaganza. It was simply stunning. Hues of red and gold filled the room with chandeliers to add to the expensive tone. Jesters and performers of all kinds were scattered around the room to entertain guests as they walked by. From jugglers to a man swallowing a ball of fire as if it was water quenching his thirst. 
A smile appeared on your face in appreciation of how well the Kim’s always throw a party. It was over the top and yet they always spent more money than they pocketed in profit. It’s never about the money for such events, especially a charity event. This night is for underprivileged children in broken homes and drug addictions. A cause they have always been passionate about. It was admirable - and why you’re a part of their family today. 
Feeling confident as you glided into the mansion, you felt proud of your dress. You felt sexy. It was conservative yet not. The dress caught your eye ages ago, deciding to keep it for a special occasion. A golden dress with glimmering accents that made you feel radiant. Your bare skin peeking through the nude toned mesh material, from afar looking see-through in a teasing way. Sequins reflecting every light you pass under as if you were a walking piece of jewelry - not too tacky or gaudy. A delicate turtleneck with exposed shoulders to reveal your soft skin in contrast to the floor length gown. Caressing your hips and between your breasts was a sheer fabric that lightly exposed your skin, just enough to show you were not wearing a bra or underwear - not enough to give everyone a show. Fortunately, the material cupping your breasts was thick enough to hide the perk to your nipples as the dress was mildly stimulating. The ensemble you chose didn’t go unnoticed by the others at the party. People casually glanced your way, yet your head remained high as confidence coursed through you
A gold mask laid on your face well enough to hide your insecurities. It matched your dress in its sparkle and shine. There is just enough makeup for a natural, bronze look to pair evenly with your attire. With grace, you scanned the room as you walked through. The Kim’s decorated their home to look like a casino to allow people to gamble for a cause. People of all sorts spread throughout the home at blackjack tables, poker, craps, roulette, but also the dance floor. Smooth jazz played in the background as the live band and black tied man sang at the microphone. 
For the first time in a while, you felt unafraid and sure of yourself. At least until you saw something that made your confidence drop into the pit of your stomach. Taehyung entered the room with a silver dressed goddess on his arm - Yuri. She wore a silky dress that clung to her petite body. It was apparent that Taehyung bought it for her. It had his taste written all over it. Even you could tell that Yuri was a simple girl that didn’t like extravagant things. The dress suited her and you can’t deny that you don’t envy her for it. Although you love the dress you're in, a part of you wants to be in that dress instead - or perhaps, on Taehyung’s arm. Thankfully, Taehyung’s elegant mother approaches you, and gives you the distraction you desperately needed.
“Y/N! Oh my… You-,” she let out a sigh and smiled sweetly with tears in her eyes, “You look absolutely stunning, dear.” Sooyoung reaches you, immediately giving you a kiss on each cheek after a warm hug as she always does when she sees you. She looked stunning in her black dress. She always looked beautiful in such a warm way that made you feel nothing but comfort.
“Thank you, Sooyoung. You look beautiful beyond words as always. The party seems like a success as I knew it would.” Sooyoung smile, humbly brushing off your compliment. Letting out a pleased sigh, she looked around and nodded.
“You’re too kind, dear. It turned out very well. I can’t say I’m not proud.” At that moment, Taehyung and Yuri turned towards you to meet Min-ho, his father, to exchange a few words. You tried your best not to acknowledge the situation. Fortunately, a waiter walked by with a tray of champagne. Quickly taking a stemmed glass, you downed it without a problem. Sooyoung smirked and took a sip from her own that she gathered as well.
“I’m sorry to hear about Joon Jae, although I’m sure you’re a little relieved,” she said as she lowered her glass. This caught your attention. You cocked your head slightly as you lowered your glass to hold elegantly in your hand.
“Joon Jae? What do you mean?”Sooyoung almost looked amused at your question.
“Why do you sound so surprised? It’s been all over the news all day - the arrest. Surely, you heard about it,” she waited a moment before continuing, “Embezzling thousands of dollars for years is bound to catch up with a person. I must say, I had a bad feeling about him. At least now you don’t have to part ways in an uncomfortable way. Assuming you would be parting ways, that is.” Embezzling money? What on earth is she talking about? You tried your best not to seem too surprised. Instead, you nodded to agree with her. Thankfully, a couple approached her to grasp her attention; giving you an opportunity to get away. 
Out of your small clutch purse, you pulled out your phone. Your instinct told you to just search on Naver for Joon Jae’s name to see what came up. To your surprise, his name appeared instantly in a headline - “Ahn Joon Jae Hordes Thousands from GQ Korea Magazine”. Within the first paragraph, it described his crime; stating he stole money from the company through false stocks and bonds. An anonymous tip warned the authorities yesterday afternoon and he was arrested the moment he landed back in Seoul from a business trip. Something about this raised an alarm inside of you. You looked up from your phone to find Taehyung. He was deep in conversation with another couple with Yuri clinging to his side. 
A part of you felt upset by this, yet another part felt touched. The ultimate fear inside of you of the consequences from this couldn’t help but to surface. There was no doubt it was Taehyung. The situation was too perfectly timed. He had to take care of something alright, you thought. Joon Jae was a powerful man. Could Taehyung’s power overshadow his or would this come back to haunt you? Your thoughts were interrupted by a man in a tuxedo in a black and silver mask. This man was Ki-young, Taehyung’s older brother.
“Can our girl dress to impress or what? N/N, you look freaking amazing,” the golden retriever said cheerfully. It was obvious from his ecstatic mannerisms that it was your unrelated brother. Right away, you could recognize his date from your previous dinner together. She wore an elegant blue dress that complimented her dyed blonde hair accompanied by a silver mask. Ki-young leaned forward to give you a kiss on the cheek and you reciprocated.
“You always know how to make a girl feel special. Hello Yoona. You look beautiful. I can see why Ki-young is so cheerful tonight.” The young woman blushed, and squeezed Ki-young’s arm as she held onto him.
“Thank you. I have to say this isn’t your everyday crowd, but it’s a lot of fun being here dressed like this. So many elites and chaebols are here,” she whispers excitedly, “But seriously, N/N. That dress is to die for. Your boyfriend must be a mess seeing you like this. Where is uh...Joon Jae, right?” Ki-young looked a little guilty towards you, or at least knowing of the situation. You simply smiled kindly.
“Joon Jae isn’t here tonight. I came alone. I couldn’t let this dress go to waste,” you teased lightly, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to speak with Min-ho for a moment. Have a good evening you two.” As much as you wanted your exit to seem nonchalant, Yoona looked at Ki-young with apologetic eyes. She could sense she unintentionally made you uncomfortable. He assured her that she did nothing wrong with a simple kiss to her temple.
Indeed, you did go to find Min-ho for further instructions on your performance tonight. You couldn’t face Taehyung; not yet at least. Besides, he was busy entertaining Yuri, so you didn’t want to interrupt them. In fact, the more you thought about it, knowing you were truly alone tonight, all you wanted to do was sing your song and make your exit. Going home, putting on some pajamas, and watching a chick flick with a big glass of wine sounded delightful - maybe a whole bottle. 
Min-ho was found standing with Sooyoung as they spoke to another lavish couple. As you approached them, you tried sneaking glances at Taehyung. Luckily, he never noticed. Your fictive kin  parents took notice of you as you approached them, and said their goodbyes to the couple they were speaking with.
“N/N, dear, you look stunning. I’m so glad you made it,” Min-ho said with delight. You leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. He had such young features for a man his age; so comforting and bright. The Kim’s were truly a good looking family, even including Taehyung being adopted into the family. Their wealth and status never faltered their kindhearted nature. They always remained true and pure. You couldn’t have asked for a better family to stand by your side throughout your years.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you took another quick glance at Taehyung, whom you found on the dance floor with Yuri. Sooyoung took notice as she always does - as most mothers do.
“So, your performance. Are you well prepared?” Min-ho smirked as the instruments in the background came to an end. The guests clapped respectfully for the band. Butterflies tingled to your very core.
“It looks like it will be about right about now,” he remarked with a wink as he walked towards the stage. The intoxication of the champagne seemed to hit you like an IV tap - giving you enough courage to carry on. Sooyoung stepped closer to you and put her hand on your arm for comfort.
“Don’t be nervous, dear. It’s going to be beautiful,” Sooyoung reassured in her sweetest, motherly tone. With a sigh, you put your hand over hers before she let go.
“I’m...going to sing something different. Something with more meaning. I don’t think the world is ready for the mess I’ve been writing these days,” you joked with a nervous laugh. It was a decision you were perfectly happy with. Most of the songs you sang had a dark and somber meaning between the lines. This selection was specifically driven towards a more light yet still romantic setting. As you sat down each night to practice this song, something felt right. This song made your heart hurt in the most healing way - the old, jazz classic, Everytime We Say Goodbye.
“It is my pleasure to introduce a beautiful, young woman who has been nothing less than a daughter to me and my wife over the years. It turns out that she has wonderful talent, and now she’s going to share it with all of you. We’re delighted to witness such a gift. Ladies and gentlemen, Y/N L/N.” When you heard your name, your heart pounded in your chest. Your eyes on the microphone as you approached the small stage area.
It’s been so long since you've performed in front of people. Well, you had piano recitals in school, but you didn’t have to open your mouth to sing. Ever. This was new territory and surprisingly, you didn’t feel like you were going to throw up. Although, it did feel like your heart was beating in your throat. A part of you felt relief that Soo-young convinced you to stand outside of your comfort zone. It was especially invigorating as no one really knew you could sing. And now, the people closest to you and a room of elite strangers were about to see your vulnerability on display. 
The crowd lightly applauded as you took your graceful strides forward. When you got up to the stage, you were greeted with a sea of elegant men and women in extraordinary dresses and masks - a beautiful sight yet excruciatingly intimidating. Even though this was an upscale lifestyle you were used to seeing, you still didn’t feel as if you fit in. But now, with this song, you could escape to a world that was always your safe place. It should be a terrifying thought but the only set of eyes that make you weak in the knees are his.
The piano keys begin playing in the background in a harmonious fashion. Nervous fingers twitch at your side to the melody to follow along the rhythm. Instantly, as you close your eyes to take it all in, it takes you back to your childhood. When you and Taehyung were having your darkest of days. Playing jazz albums on the vinyl player he kept in his room, this song in particular - Every Time We Say Goodbye. Tonight, the beautiful melody was sung by you.
We love each other so deeply That I ask you this, sweetheart Why should we quarrel ever? Why can't we be enough clever,  never to part -
It wasn’t until you drew out the last note that you finally opened your eyes. Closing your eyes allowed you to feel the music and travel back to the time you held so near and dear to your heart. When you opened them, your focus was on the pair of brown eyes that always made your heart flutter. It took no time to find them as if your auras were calling out to each other. The melody remained slow as your voice led the flow of the chords. So tender and raw with a hint of deep love with each note that escaped your lips. A fabrato purred in your throat with each ending word naturally.
Every time we say goodbye, I die a little Every time we say goodbye, I wonder why a little Why the gods above me, who must be in the know - Think so little of me They allow you to go -
The song flowed in perfect harmony with your voice as people began slow dancing along. Eyes respectfully tried to remain on you as your presence was captivating in every way. In particular, Taehyung was watching. There was a soft smile on his lips. You couldn’t tell if he was surprised or in awe or just content to be near his beloved. Yuri said something to him that you couldn’t make out. He then turned his attention back to her. It was only for a moment and his gaze was back on you as they continued dancing with one another. 
When you're near, There's such an air of spring about it I can hear a lark somewhere begin to sing about it - There's no love song finer But how strange the change from major to minor Every time we say goodbye Every time we say goodbye -
The song came to an end with a big weight lifted off of your chest. The room cheered. In Particular, you took notice of Ki-young and Min-ji clapping and cheering louder than anyone else in the room - such supportive siblings. You couldn’t help but to smile with a tinted rose in your cheeks. Graciously, you curtsied to the crowd. Walking off the stage, the band began playing the next song to keep the mood for the party. You decided to go towards the dance floor to find everyone; well, Taehyung. Interrupting your search with eagerness, Ki-young, Yoona, and Min-ji walked up to you. Min-ji was the first to give you the biggest hug her petite body could handle.
“Y/N L/N! Oh my god! I didn’t know you could sing like that! Babe, you sounded like an angel!" As you hugged her back, you couldn’t help but to giggle. Her enthusiasm made you feel warm. Min-ji was always such a bright spirit and you loved her for it. 
“Thanks Min-ji. I’m sorry I didn’t greet you before going on. You look ravishing as always.” Min-ji gave you a look and then the same to Ki-young.
“Can you ever take a compliment without giving one back,” she asked with a laugh, “but thank you. You know how much I love a good party.”
“You love anything that involves you dressing up, Min,” Ki-young interrupted with a kind smile. Min-ji turned to him with a cheeky smile showing that he was right on the nose.
“You know me all too well, big brother.” At that moment, Taehyung arrived by your side and gently placed his hand on your lower back. An instant chill ran up your spine as you caught a glimpse of the coy smile he gave his siblings; his scent filling your nose. Smoked cherries - spicy and sweet. Ba-dum, ba-dum. Be still my heart.
“Ki-young, Yoona, Min-ji, do you mind if I steal N/N for a moment?” The trio smiled and willingly let him whisk you away. He didn’t waste any time to take you further onto the floor, readying himself in position to start dancing with you. He held you close and your instinct was to find Yuri to ensure this didn’t bother her. She couldn’t be seen anywhere.
“Where’s your date,” you asked casually. Taehyung looked at you without an emotion you could read and held your hand a little tighter in an endearing way - a comforting way.
“She’ll be back soon. So, when were you planning on telling me that you could sing like that? I've  known you practically your whole life and I've never heard you. Curious.” The word slithered out like a snake who just caught his victim. The way he asked seemed as if he was slightly insulted that he didn’t know. A playful scoff came out. The man acts as if there can be no secrets between you two. Little does he know. He discovered something about you that he couldn’t read in a file. Poor thing. You looked into his eyes and remained coy.
“You don’t have to know everything about me, you know?” He laughed lightly in amusement. Lowering himself to meet your ear so only you could hear, his breath tickled your skin.
“You and I both know that’s far from the truth. I must know everything about you,” his voice  hummed deliciously in a way that made you shiver, “For what it’s worth, you have a beautiful voice, along with how you look tonight. You sang our song. Should I be flattered or was that just a coincidence?” His gaze returned to yours as he parted from the side of your face. Prayers couldn’t prevent your cheeks from changing colors. His irises seemed darker somehow. It made your heart race.
“It depends. Are you flattered, Taehyung?” Wait. Are we flirting? It’s been a while since we’ve been playful towards each other; at least since before Yuri came into the picture. A smirk formed on his perfectly shaped lips - hypnotizing.
“Flattered enough that I want to hear you again. Would you sing for me,” he asked in an enticing voice. It was then that you realized how close you were dancing together. His touch felt like fire against your lower back as the material of your dress was dangerously thin. You could feel how firm his chest was as your torsos were sandwiched together. The smell of his body wash and light scented cologne makes your head spin. Surely he could feel how fast your heart was beating. Or perhaps he could smell how aroused you are. Your cheeks flushed deeper as you looked up at him.
“You know I’ll do anything you ever ask of me. I’ll do anything for you, Taehyung,” you said in a submissive tone. Saying his name when you spoke to him was your own way of being submissive to him, but you're not sure if he ever noticed. Something changed in his expression. It seemed as if time stood still. Suddenly, Taehyung’s attention averted towards the entrance. Yuri was headed out in a rushed fashion - almost as if she was running away. His attention was no longer in your presence as he watched her descend towards the doors.
“Perhaps a raincheck. Excuse me.” And in an instant, Taehyung left. Initially, the feeling of disappointment coursed through you yet your empathy took over. Whatever it was, it would be awful of her boyfriend to just stand there and watch her leave. And yet, how quickly he ran to her without hesitation made your heart drop ever so slightly. You got your dance and sang your song. May as well make your exit. Regardless, it was all you wanted from this evening. 
Sooyoung and Min-ho are sitting at a table engaging in conversation with other elites. With a deep breath to regain your composure, you make your way over there to say goodbye. They both look up at you with delight.
“Sorry to leave so early but I think I’m going to go,” you interrupt politely. Min-ho went to speak but was pulled into another conversation by a peer. Sooyoung looked disappointed by this.
“But the evening has just begun, darling. Won’t you stay for the auction? It’s coming up soon.” Ah, the auction. Bidding on items and events isn’t exactly your cup of tea. Your contribution was your voice and you couldn’t bear to be there any longer. Walking over behind them, you kissed each of them on the cheek.
“Enjoy your evening, okay? I’ll come over soon to share a meal.” Sooyoung opened her mouth to protest, however, you left before you could hear another reason to stay. For once, you wanted to be selfish. You needed to be selfish. Besides, nothing sounded more appealing to you than spending the remainder of the night with yourself. Perhaps tonight, you’ll start learning how to move on; starting with the biggest bottle of wine that you can find.
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It was nearly midnight and you were sure the party had come to an end by now. A content sigh escaped you as you walked out of your bedroom in your most comfortable loungewear. Face washed and your routine night care had been complete - leaving you feeling fresh. Eagerness coursed through your veins as your bare feet led you towards the kitchen. A steaming cup of tea awaited you. 
With your cup in hand, you walked over to your couch whilst taking tiny sips to soothe your soul. A fuzzy blanket laid lazily just calling out your name. Now that the ball was over, a weekend ahead of catching up on rest seemed like a dream. Just as you were about to turn on an episode of one of your favorite dramas, there was a knock on the door. Panic made you freeze; alert yet confused. Who would be at your door this late at night?
Fear rose in your chest as you slowly got off the couch. Please don’t let it be Joon Jae… Your phone in hand ready in case you need to make an emergency call to someone, anyone. Thoughts mumbling internally as you approach the tiny security screen near your door, you take a peak to see your visit. To your surprise, it was the last person you were expecting to see. Instantly, you opened the door.
“Taehyung? What are you doing here?” His hair looked slightly teased. His suit jacket was gone leaving him just in a button down shirt, the top two buttons undone and his tie unraveled around his collar. He looked up at you in a way that caused your heart to skip a beat. Had he been crying?
“She’s gone. I guess I’m more of a monster than I thought…” His voice sounded so defeated. It broke your heart into two. Nothing stopped you from reaching out for his hand to lead him inside.
“Ah... Come inside,” your soothing voice whispered. When you closed the door, he stood in place. Looking around your apartment as if it was the first time he had ever been here. Lost and dazed. What the hell happened to make him so disheveled? As much as you wanted to wrap your arms around him, you decided to keep your distance. Instead, you went to the kitchen to grab a cup of tea for him as well. He looked like he desperately needed one - something comforting. When you returned to him, he hadn’t moved an inch. He slowly reached for the cup, wrapping his hands around it without taking a sip.
“What happened? I haven’t seen you like this...in a really long time. Are you okay?” Somehow, you felt as if you could feel his pain. Your attachment to him truly took a hold. The empathetic connection you shared was all consuming, as if you had the power to fix everything.
“She wanted to see. She wanted to know how far I could go. It wasn’t even my furthest. I proceeded with caution, started slowly. But she looked at me as if I abused her. I trusted her to tell me to stop and she never did. Why didn’t she use her safe word? I...I don’t know what I did wrong.” Blood boiled inside of you. Although he spoke without much context, you knew exactly what he meant. Yuri must have challenged Taehyung to show her his true dominance. Why like this? Yuri was new to the world of BDSM. Trust is the utmost important aspect of the realm. To defy this trust is the worst you can do - whether as the dominant or the submissive.
Remember when you interviewed Yuri a while back, she asked you questions about this lifestyle. It wasn’t a life for her. She didn’t understand. You don’t just become submissive. You either are or you’re not. Maybe you should have warned Taehyung but he needed to see for himself. In the moment, all you could do was keep to yourself. Now wasn’t the time for “I told you so”. He needed a friend, a confidant.
“You’re not a monster. Don’t ever think that way. You have strong feelings for Yuri and I get that. I really do. You gained feelings for someone who doesn’t understand this life, which isn’t easy. Being a dominant or a submissive isn’t a sin. It’s not weird or unusual. It’s an intense relationship that involves trust in so many forms. You need someone who can give you the best of both worlds - a submissive and a deep connection outside of the bedroom. I’m...sorry that person wasn’t Yuri. Give it some time. Maybe she just needs to think about it and she’ll come around. If you’ll accept her trust again, that is.” Taehyung’s gaze never left yours as you spoke. Something softened in his eyes.
“I don’t think I could trust her again. Who is to say she won’t do it again? Maybe…I need someone that can give me that trust. Someone...like you.” Your jaw dropped and lips dried as you lost your breath. Eyes widened at his words, your head frantically started replaying his words to make sure you heard them correctly.
“I-I...I don’t know w-what you mean. You’re not thinking clearly. Why don’t we sit on the couch?” Fighting every fiber of your being to think too much into the situation, you turned to go towards the couch. His hand reached for your wrist to still you. His eyes were dark, lingering enough to make your skin heat with anticipation.
“I’m thinking more clearly than I have in my entire life. Y/N, why didn’t you tell me how you felt?” Time stood still. What did he mean? It couldn’t be. The song perhaps? How did he know? Thinking back, you recalled getting an unusual text from his mother after you left the ball.
It will all be better soon. I promise, dear.
Sooyoung. What the hell did she say to him? The breath in your lungs became dense as the room became smaller. The deepest secret between the two of you had been revealed without your permission. A string of emotions rushed over you as you tried to find a way to escape this.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re...just friends. That’s it,” you stuttered timidly as you tried to play it off with nervous laughter. Taehyung didn’t look phased.
“If you wanted to be more, all you had to do was ask. I thought I was clear about that.” Then that’s when you started putting the pieces together. Did he think you just wanted to be his submissive? You couldn’t help but to laugh lightly - insulted.
“Taehyung, I’ve told you a thousand times. I don’t want to be your sub. I value our friendship far too much for that. I don’t know what your mother told you but I think you got the wrong idea. Don’t read too much into things.” Feeling the perfect opportunity as he loosened his grip, you removed your wrist from his hand. The fear of him feeling your heightened pulse made you retreat from his warm touch. Surely she said something subtle and he took it the wrong way. He’s suggested such a dom-sub relationship for years; no strings attached. It was a line you could never cross as you knew you would get attached and want more. A real relationship. Love.
“I’m sorry, Taehyung, but that’s not a line I can cross with you.” Your gaze into his eyes were soft - sincere. Rejecting his offer yet again to avoid a potential broken heart, it was the best solution. It had to be.
“So you’re not in love with me then,” Taehyung replied in a low, sultry tone. Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes widened in alarm. Shock got the best of you, making you drop your teacup causing it to shatter against the floor - the only sound that remained in the room besides your thoughts.
Fuck...
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fabseg-creator · 3 months ago
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Miraculous AU: Fifty Shades of Gold (Chloenette) [MATURE]
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I've made a full collection of sketches of Marinette and Chloé intimate moments (but it's in a Fifty Shades of Grey style 👀).
It's the continuity of my previous sketch: Chloenette "Special Lesson" (Mature too).
It happens in an AU (dark and sad) [Mature content, No kids allowed]:
The AU: Fifty Shades of Gold
Marinette and Chloé are the co-main protagonists in this AU.
Marinette and Chloé are both 18 years old (but their civilian clothes are generally identical to their canon clothes).
Kwamis and Miraculouses don't exist.
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-Marinette Dupain-Cheng:
Marinette is just a girl with a normal life but with some complications: she fails her romances with boys.
She is actually the Paris' best fashion-designer. She became famous in this speciality thanks to Gabriel (but the man suicided because of not accepting his wife's death).
Marinette is in a bad mood: she has lack of inspiration for creating dresses and clothes and she is no longer in couple with Adrien (despote they were lovers since
Adrien becomes baker (the Marinette's job with her parents) while Marinette has been promoted employee at the Gabriel brand by Audrey Bourgeois. It's a profession swap !
The Gabriel brand was beginning the path to the bankruptcy and Marinette felt the burnout until a certain blond girl comes to become candidate as top-model on replacement of Adrien who wouldn't be model anymore).
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-Chloé Bourgeois:
Chloé is was a aristocrat girl turned into an escort-girl who has issues with her mother. Her father, the mayor, is deceased. After the latter's death, a saddened and desperate Chloé fled the Grand Hotel when she was 14.
Chloé secretly joins a business of prostitution as a escort-girl, call-girl and dominatrix. Following the next years, Chloé was fallen to the anonymity. Sabrina, Alya, Zoé, Adrien and Luka are the only ones who managed to keep in connection with the former spoiled brat.
She keeps her "job" secret from the public.
Her boss from her "business" is in fact: Cerise Bianca, a famous actress who make fortune by playing and producting movies. In clandestinity, the latter works in a proxenetism network under the identities of Lila Rossi, Volpina and Chrysalis (in association with a certain Cash and his mobsters) and her movie career had been launched on that. This girl is just recently become the new director of this" business" after the Cash's arrest.
At her difficult return to civilian life, Chloé becomes the top-model of the Gabriel brand by her mother (despite the issues Chloé has with her). Zoé is the one who convinced the mother and the half-sister to make a deal.
Chloé's promotion saves the brand.
But now, the blond girl must familiarize with Marinette (despite their opposite natures).
-The synopsis (hypothetical):
Marinette, a notorious fashion-designer and employee of the Gabriel fashion brand, lives an unlucky situation: Adrien breaks up with her in reason of her workholic time from her employment. He warned me he will see her again when she will really a time for him.
Meanwhile, the brand is in financial difficulties. Next day, Chloé comes to the brand's office for see Audrey Bourgeois, the former's mother and current the Gabriel's owner. Chloé receives here a "second chance": a promotion for working as model. A commercial (where Chloé appears) is released and the brand marketing is relaunched.
When Marinette finds out that, she is astonished. After three/four years of no contacting, she decides to see her. At their reuniting, the two young adult women will learn, by the decision of Audrey, an unexpected surprise: the two girls must work together as a business duo: Marinette is the designer and Chloé is the muse.
Marinette and Chloé go on a business trip. And during this trip, they take the time to familiarize each other. Together, they talk about their respective issues, difficulties, love problems, secrets and their similarities. That makes the two partners more closer each other and they begin to fall in love each other. But Marinette later realizes a unimaginable secret from Chloé: the latter had experienced a doubtful but enduring "profession" as prostitute during previous years. Their relationship will turns into a "game" Marinette never personally known and the bluenette will understands what Chloé lived during these last years.
-Their relationship:
In the past, a teenage Chloé was a bully and a teenage Marinette was one of the latter's victims.
After Chloé's Daddy's death, Marinette tried to express condoleances to the blond girl but the latter was already gone in a runaway. The bluenette was worried about her fallen rival being disappeared for some weeks.
Marinette went in date respectively with Luka, Nathaniel and finally Adrien (the boy she loved and finally dated).
Chloé realized "some tasteless adventures" with unknown people during her doubtful activities.
Chloé was going to lose interest to the life until her family contacts her again for offering a new departure.
When Marinette and Chloé met first time each other since a long time, they are both uncomfortable. Later, they learn to know each other (despite their coworker status).
They fall in love each other during their business trip (and they sleep together).
At their return, when Chloé makes Marinette aware the former had worked in a procuring group as dominatrix, their relationship turns into a sadomasoshist relation (they will mainly practice that in the Red Bedroom). Marinette consents to experiment BDSM sessions with Chloé. The bluenette plays the submissive while Chloé is the dominant.
The blondie feels guilty to bring her partner to that game.
The playlist:
The list of sketches at the bottom presents scenes with mature content [PG-13/R?] (No kids allowed):
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Chloé "teaching a special lesson" to a topless Marinette
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Marinette and Chloé in the bed after one of their "sessions" in the Red Bedroom
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A weeping Chloé realizing about her situation: she hates her actual life, her dark job and herself
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Two Kiss scenes/Two contrasts:
Dominatrix Chloe and a naked Marinette kissing together (Light, Love, Exaltion)
Marinette recomforting a tearful Chloé with a kiss (Tragic, Sadness, Sorrow)
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lilacella · 3 months ago
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If you want to have a tropy "Tall intimidating alpha male" and "Poor babygirl that needs to be taken care of" wolfstar dynamic so badly, I think it would be rather obvious who should be who?!
I mean, Sirius is tall, rich and writing him as a questionably rude guy is a lot easier and Remus is... Well... naturally submissive😏
It would still be questionable af but it would work
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percki · 8 months ago
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i love you professionally published books that started out as fanfiction
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transingthoseformers · 2 years ago
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No yeah I cannot forget the "Optimus Prime read fifty shades of gray and regretted it" post
Imagine the kids are over at the base and just hear a distant sharp "thunk" and Ratchet is quietly trying not to laugh because he knows it's Optimus throwing the book against the wall because Oppy is that exasperated
"I thought we were supposed to treat books with great respect?"
"That old friend is not a book; Ṭ̶̀h̴͙̪̾́a̶̟͕̔t̶͓͐ ̴̘͉̌͑i̵̫̕s̵͇̍ ̴̠̞̓s̵͚̃̂ǐ̵̜̃x̴̟̒̾ͅ ̷̫̽ẖ̷̏u̴̯͂͑ň̸̹d̵̨͕͗͛r̸̜̯̀e̶͎̠͊ḏ̵͛̉ ̵̳̪̃ã̶̖̅n̴̠̓ͅd̸̦̋͊ ̵̨̿o̴̙͒͛ͅń̷͓e̵̘̅ ̴̨̐p̸̱̔̋ȧ̴͙̰g̴̘̑͝ë̷̩͈͝ş̶͎̔ ̷͚͕͊ò̴̺f̵̡̅ ̶͇͔́á̵̢̻̀g̸͚̼̽o̴̡̱̅̈́n̴͖̿̅y̷̘̼̓.̶̼͕̀̇ I am greatly disappointed in you for recommending this to me."
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ad-hawkeye · 10 months ago
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Bringing back the 50 Shades of Artem tag in 2024, but... I was recently doing the survey for Lovebrush and there were several sections where you could rate the consistency of a character's writing, which is comforting! I wish we had that on ToT... oh, the low score I would have given for Artem....
HI! worry not, friend! i am ALWAYS open to bitch and moan in the fifty shades of artem tag!!!! it's like a beast that awakens within me every other month or so. like werewolves and the full moon but instead it's me and screenshots of his second anniversary card.
BUT HELP. YEAH. MY FRIENDS AND I NOTICED THAT TOO. you know. at least i can sleep easy knowing that if alkaid suddenly wakes up one day as a boundary crossing daddy dom sex chad who smacks belts on beds and proposes to mc out of insecurity without talking to her beforehand, i have the proper channels to bitch and moan about it on the survey 🥰
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alaskan-wallflower · 10 months ago
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You can’t shi on ppl for making high school aus and then go write cards against humanity and sickfic and stuff like that LMAO sis where is the oRigInaL ideas
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womp womp 💀
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rexismycopilot · 6 months ago
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Hello there hehehe, I haven't finished the third part of FS but my monkey brain that craves angst and hurt/comfort has been pretty crazy lately since I read that Obi-Wan's parents died because of a drunk driver and was just thinking if you were planning to do anything about that like... Oh I don't know... Maybe have AnakinandObi-Waninacaraccident? And maybe it's likeabitmoreseriousandthere'sjust... Somuchangst? I just think it's near putting your faves through traumatic experiences, especially FS Ani since he's just the perfect candidate for that \(•3•)/
OOOOHHHHHH!! Anakin really is the perfect candidate for angst lmao
And that would be SO much angst!! If Obi-Wan was driving at the time too and is the one to make the mistake he would really be kicking himself. And if Anakin even had so much as a bruise, Obi-Wan would become mother hen lol.
Maybe Obi-Wan coming up with another thing to bring up in therapy with Plo...
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rexismycopilot · 2 years ago
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I posted Chapter 33 of Fifty Shades today which directly references this lovely pic!
Summary: Anakin and Obi-Wan move
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Engagement pictures!
A commission for @rexismycopilot
A scene from her fic Fifty Shades of Growth and Commitment from her Fifty Shades universe 
“Hey, Obi-Wan,” Anakin whispered from above Obi-Wan.
“Yes, baby?”
“I really love you,” Anakin said.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” Obi-Wan promised, a warm smile emerging on his face.
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beta-adjacent · 1 year ago
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Anastasia Steele is a beta and we are led to believe the entire first movie that Christian Grey is an alpha and that Anna “just doesn’t have those instincts”, only to learn in movie 2 that that’s Not how instincts work, and Christian is a very, very traumatized omega who pumps his body with all the drugs a billionaire can buy to regain control of his body
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downbythebaynotbae · 1 year ago
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Do you know how fast I would buy a book if I found out it was first Destiel fanfic?
i will never complain about a book seeming like a fanfic with the serial numbers filed off because that means the author had the invaluable ability to tell when their au had diverged enough that these were just straight-up different characters now
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stjohnstarling · 9 months ago
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Alright, so: I want to explain a little more about this connection between the Twilight fandom, Fifty Shades of Grey, and seemingly, the self-publishing industry as a whole. It's a lot, so I'm going to have to chip away at it a bit at a time, and I think the best place to start is by describing the scene in late 2000s Twilight fandom.
In 2009, Twilight was one of the biggest fandoms in the world, although it was nearly invisible to outsiders because it
Was about a straight couple, while most other fandoms were predominantly gay, and
Was conducted almost entirely on fanfiction.net among a group of people who had little other background in fandom. (x)
That meant for many Twilight fans, Twilight was fandom. It was all they knew, and many had no path out. That also made it a corked champagne bottle with the pressure building.
Because of these community dynamics and the declining quality of the Twilight books themselves, Twilight fanfiction evolved to be mostly AUs so alternate they were more-or-less original romance novels that used Bella and Edward as broad character templates. (x)
Seriously, Twilight fandom got really crazy big for a few years there. It was not totally uncommon to get multi-million clicks on a semi-popular story. It's weird looking back on it and calling it "Twilight fandom" because it was really more like "Romance Novel fandom". For real, for a period there, calling a Twilight fanfic author a 'Twilight fan' would be the ultimate insult. But they never stopped writing about Edward and Bella! It's so weird. (x)
If you were in 2000s era fandom, you're probably aware of the phenomenon of Big Name Fans and the various social-climbing dynamics that happened around them. The Twilight fandom took this social power game another level:
This wasn't even just an author thing. There were Big Name Authors (BNAs) but there were also Big Name Readers. These were basically like... full-time rabid fans of a BNA. They devoted so much of their time to helping out the BNAs, reviewing their chapters, making them fanart, promoting their fics, kissing their asses with cringe-worthy intensity, you name it. Which is why you saw what looked like BNAs having 'employees', such as Moi, tby789's Director of Marketing. (x)
It became apparent that these power games weren't just for fandom clout. The fandom was proving that that social power could be translated into real-world dollars. You see, the Twilight fandom used to organize charity auctions where big name authors would auction off custom fanfiction, and the money generated was substantial:
Mostly authors would auction off stories. So if you donated in my name, I'd write you 10,000 words of porn in my Tattward universe, or something new, etc. That's how it worked. The 2009 auction raised $80,000. The 2010 auction raised $140,000. The 2011 auction raised $20,00. [NOTE: this is likely a typo] (x)
A lot of these dynamics were not unique to the Twilight fandom, but it was the combination that created a perfect storm of opportunism. This would end up changing not just fandom dynamics but the publishing industry as a whole.
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alygator77 · 15 days ago
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❥ masked affairs—sold to desire
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℘pairing. au dom rich! satoru x fem! reader
℘summary. it's a lavish charity masquerade, and you find yourself under satoru gojo’s spell once again. tonight, he’s playing a dangerous game—a discreet, remote-controlled toy designed to tease and torment you—hula beads. as the night unfolds, you walk the fine line between obedience and defiance, but testing him could be your undoing—satoru is unforgiving, and he holds the key to your pleasure.
℘tags/warnings. nsfw 18+, smut, fluff, established relationship, billionaire satoru, reader is rich too, satoru controls/dominates you with a sex toy during a charity auction, jealous/possessive satoru, public foreplay, public sex, lots of worship and praise, penetration, creampie.
℘wc. 15.1k
℘a/n. happy spooky season ya'll 👻 this oneshot is heavily inspired by fifty shades darker. check out the mood board here. the song for this fic is 'infinity' by james young, listen here. enjoy 💕
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In a room full of masks, you’ve perfected the art of wearing one—long before you ever stepped into Satoru Gojo’s world.
The lace mask lying on your vanity is almost like a second skin to you now. After all, you’ve spent years working in your profession, hiding behind smiles and carefully measured words. It’s a flawless poise required of someone in your line of work—the PR world demanded it—dealing with the rich and powerful, controlling the narrative, making sure their perfect, untouchable image remains intact.
A skill you’ve long since mastered.
And as the soft hum of the city buzzes outside your penthouse window, with the glow of the skyline filtering through the room—it serves as a quiet reminder of how far you’ve come, and where you are now.
Standing at the top.
But the weight of that truth has never really faded, has it? You—entrenched in this world—one that always demands more than it gives.
A faint smile tugs at your lips as you lift the mask from the vanity, turning it over between your fingers. Ironic, really, that someone who has built a career on managing the chaos of others, controlling every detail, would find herself unraveling in ways she hadn’t expected.
Unraveled by him.
Your thoughts are interrupted by the quiet creak of the door, and you glance up at the mirror just in time to see him lean against the doorframe.
Satoru Gojo.
It had been two years since that fateful night—the night you met him at the very same event you are both to attend, yet again. But when he had first walked into that ballroom two years ago, confident and untouchable, you hadn’t been impressed… at first—and why would you be? Men like him, with their money and their charm, were a dime a dozen in your world. You knew exactly how to handle them.
But not Satoru Gojo.
And tonight, he looked every bit his part—a presence so magnetic, so effortless—dressed in a sleek black tuxedo, tailored perfectly to his tall, athletic frame. His white hair falling in its usual tousled disarray, yet somehow, even that looks intentional—perfectly imperfect, just like him.
Ah, but it’s his eyes—those striking, icy blue eyes—that always manage to captivate you immediately. And this time, as his gaze sweeps over you slowly, you catch sight of the predatory glimmer underneath, lingering on every curve as he drinks in the sight of you.
There is a weight to his gaze, and oh, you revel in it. That’s the thing—you know exactly how to unravel him, just as easily as he can unravel you.
Taking your time, you set the lace mask down carefully—knowing full well that his eyes haven’t left you for a second, and you smooth your gown, feeling the delicate, luxurious material slide under your fingers.
The dress was a statement—sophisticated with a touch of allure. The deep sapphire-blue fabric, silky and shimmering in the dim light, hugs your curves with a neckline plunging just low enough to tease. It features a high slit running up one leg, adding a sensual edge but still maintaining an air of elegance.
And you know—oh, you know—that every detail of it is driving him crazy.
His breath catches as he finally speaks, pushing himself off the doorframe. “Wow. You’re going to make it impossible for anyone else to concentrate tonight.”
You smirk, turning just enough to catch his eyes fully.
“Good. I didn’t plan on letting anyone else have your attention tonight.”
“Mmm, funny,” he muses, stepping toward you with slow, deliberate strides.
His hands slowly slide down your arms—a touch so feather-light, it sends a shiver of anticipation through you as he leans in, his breath is warm against your ear. “Especially considering it’s been two years since you walked into that gala and made me work for your attention.”
“Work?” you chuckle softly and tilt your head slightly. “I think you enjoyed the chase more than you’re willing to admit.”
Pulling himself closer to you—you feel his lips brush softly against your neck, underlined with a low growl.
“Oh, I enjoyed it,” his voice deepens with each word. “But catching you...” he places a lingering kiss just beneath your ear. “That was my real reward.”
You inhale as his warm breath fans your skin, and you desperately try not to give away just how much your body is already responding to him.
Why? Because you love making him chase you—even to this day.
“Is that so?” you challenge.
“Mhm,” he hums.
Exhaling again, you feel his hands slide lower, resting just above the curve of your hips as his lips trail down the side of your neck, placing slow, deliberate kisses.
“You still seem a little worked up for someone who’s already caught me.” You keep your voice measured—your growing desire masked underneath a teasing edge.
He chuckles darkly.
“Can you blame me?”
Before you can respond, his words are punctuated with a slow, deliberate press of his hips, and you gasp softly as you feel the unmistakable erection pressing into your backside. Biting your lip, you suppress a moan as the sensation sends a rush of heat straight to your core.
“You feel that, don’t you?” rolling his hips, he sounds so desperate, and it’s impossible to ignore. “That’s what you do to me.”
“You’re awfully needy tonight,” you whisper, breathily.
He drops his head, placing a tender kiss on your shoulder—trailing up to the shell of your ear where you are met with a deep chuckle.
“Needy?” a shiver rakes down your spine as his voice dips lower—darker, more dangerous. “Oh, sweetheart… you haven’t seen needy yet.”
His hand slides from your waist with an agonizing slowness until it rests on the curve of your hip, and you feel his fingers trace the edge of your dress—teasingly close to the slit exposing your thigh—a touch so light is makes you shiver with anticipation.
“I’ve got something for you,” he murmurs, meeting your gaze in the vanity mirror.
Your eyes widen as you feel something cool and smooth brush against your bare thigh—small, sleek, unmistakable.
Hula beads.
Well, fuck—what a menace. With him holding the remote, you know he’ll have full control over your pleasure—completely discreet and utterly torturous.
“Just a little gift to keep things… exciting,” he grins. “I know these events can be so… mundane for you.”
Your mouth goes dry as you hold his gaze, already sensing where this was going.
“Satoru—”
“Two years,” he interrupts, dark and commanding now. “Two years since you walked into my life, and I decided I wasn’t going to let you go.” His eyes lock onto yours in the mirror, and for a moment, all you can do is stare back at his reflection, captivated by his intensity.
Slowly, his expression softens—his thumb brushing tenderly over your skin.
“Tonight’s special, love,” he says affectionately. Leaning in closer, his lips brush against your ear, and before you can react, he captures your earlobe gently between his teeth. “I want you to feel that baby.”
A gasp escapes your lips. He knows how to get under your skin—how to make every inch of you burn with need. His dominance, wrapped in tenderness—the perfect combination that drives you wild.
“I want you to wear these for me tonight.”
The heat between your thighs intensifies at his words. Swallowing hard, you nod slowly. Finally managing to speak, barely a whisper.
“Okay.”
Satoru’s smirk deepens, his eyes darkening with satisfaction as his grip on your waist tightens.
“Good. Now bend over the dresser.”
The command in his voice is unmistakable, and it sends a thrill straight to your core, making your legs tremble slightly as you obey. Slowly, you lean forward, your palms resting on the cool surface of the dresser.
“So obedient,” his hands glide up your hips, bunching the fabric of your dress around your waist. “Such a good girl for me.”
His praise makes your breath hitch, and you bite your lip as his hands move lower, spreading your thighs slightly—positioning you just the way he wants you.
Satoru’s fingers hook into the delicate fabric of your lace panties, tugging them down your legs in one smooth, possessive motion. As you brace yourself against the dresser, his touch drifts lower, tracing the sensitive skin of your thighs before circling back up—brushing softly around the curve of your ass. But your body aches for more, and finally, your entrance welcomes the light, deliberate pressure of his digit.
It's not enough though.
Fucking hell. The anticipation is coiling tight in your stomach—you were already growing wet. He was always like this—making you wait, making you want him even more.
“Satoru,” you plea, barely above a whisper.
Pausing for a moment, he chuckles—then, he allows his fingers to brush over you again, this time with a little more pressure. He lets out a low hum of approval as he feels the undeniable heat between your legs.
“Well, look at that,” he murmurs, full of satisfaction as his fingers trace over your slickness. “You’re already soaked, aren’t you?”
Your body trembles and the heat intensifies further as he acknowledges your arousal.
“I was going to prep you,” his voice drips with amusement as he pushes deeper—two fingers curling in—just enough to make you gasp. “But… I don’t think that’s necessary anymore, do you?”
He pulls his fingers out—leaving you aching and breathless. You let out a disappointed whine, your body protesting against the sudden loss of contact.
You wanted him. Now.
The desire burning throughout you is almost unbearable, and he knows it—he was going to make this night torture for you.
He chuckles again—a hand sliding up your spine, tracing the curve of your back as he leans in closer to press a tender kiss on your shoulder.
“Needy girl. I’m not done with you yet. Stay still.”
Your breath hitches, and before you can respond, you feel something cool and smooth press against your entrance—the unmistakable touch of the Hula Beads.
“Let’s make this night memorable, hmm?”
He slowly, deliberately, pushes it inside you.
Unable to suppress the soft moan that escapes your lips, he doesn’t stop until the beads are seated deep within you. The sensation is foreign, but undeniably arousing as your core clenches around them—a fullness that builds between your thighs, making your knees tremble.
You’re already aching for more, and he hasn’t even turned them on yet.
Satoru pauses for a moment, letting you breathe as he admires you—a small, knowing smirk tugging upon his lips. With careful precision, he hooks his fingers into the delicate fabric of your panties and pulls them back up.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, smoothing your dress back down. “Now, stand up.”
Standing upright feels like a challenge—your legs tremble slightly as you push yourself up from the dresser, adjusting to the pressure inside you. He steps behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him.
“You’re going to behave tonight, aren’t you?” His free hand reaches up, fingers gently brushing through your hair, caressing you as his eyes lock with yours in the mirror—a comfort and a reminder of the control he holds. “I’ll know exactly what’s going on inside you, and no one else will have a clue. But you’ll behave for me, won’t you, sweetheart?”
“I’ll try…” you respond, breathy, but teasing—a spark of defiance in your tone, knowing full well what his reaction might be.
Satoru’s smirk deepens, his grip on your waist tightening for just a second.
“Try?” he repeats, full of amusement. “Careful, sweetheart. You’re already testing me, and we haven’t even left the room yet.”
His warning sends a shiver through you as you hold his gaze with a playful challenge—but then, he pecks your cheek and steps back. Straightening his jacket, he adjusts his bowtie as if nothing unusual has happened between you. It’s a movement so smooth and controlled, an epitome of poise—but the smirk on his lips and the glint in his eyes tell you that he’s anything but composed on the inside.
Oh, he’s playing with you… and he’s loving every second of it.
“Behave,” he casts you a sideways glance, accompanied with a wink, full of mischief. “Because I’m going to have so much fun with you tonight, princess.”
“Ah, there they are!” a familiar voice rings from behind, and you turn just in time to see Shoko approaching—her mischievous smile tugging at her lips, the lace mask adorning her face barely concealing that sparkle in her eyes. “y/n, Satoru—you two certainly know how to make an entrance.”
Before you can respond, she pulls you into a warm embrace—the scent of her perfume faint and comforting as you relax into her familiar touch.
“Gosh, it’s been too long,” she murmurs before stepping back to look you over with an approving nod. “You look incredible.”
Satoru jumps in—his arm slipping slightly around your waist, pulling you closer as he leans in with a low chuckle.
“Doesn’t she?” His voice is rich with affectionate pride, and his fingers lightly trace circles on your hip absentmindedly. “It’s almost unfair, isn’t it?”
The warmth of his words lingers in the air, and you can’t help but feel the flutter of butterflies in your chest as his gaze holds yours with an intensity.
Shoko’s dramatic groan breaks the spell. She rolls her eyes with exaggerated flair—crossing her arms over her chest as a playful grin tugs at her lips.
“Ugh, you two are too cute together—it’s almost sickening.”
You let out a soft laugh, glancing sideways at Satoru with a knowing smirk.
“Mmm... well, we try.”
Satoru’s smirk only widens as he holds you even tighter.
“Do we?” he teases. “I wasn’t aware we were being watched.”
Shoko rolls her eyes again, clearly unimpressed with his feigned ignorance.
“Oh, please,” she drawls sarcastically, lightly flicking a hand toward the both of you. “It’s hard not to notice when you two waltz in looking like you own the place.”
You can’t help but grin in response, shaking your head at her comment.
“Oh, come on. Says the woman who makes even casual elegance look like high fashion.”
Shoko’s smirk grows as she readjusts the shawl draped elegantly around her shoulders—her burgundy gown hugging her figure perfectly—each detail carefully chosen. She straightens up, standing a little taller as she takes in your compliment.
“Mmm…what can I say? Guess I’m a natural,” she adds with a playful wink.
Before anyone can add anything further, Suguru’s smooth voice cuts in from behind, joining the conversation as he steps up beside her.
“You’re always so modest, aren’t you, Shoko?”
His calm presence and easygoing smile blend seamlessly in the group—almost as natural as the way he drapes an arm casually over Shoko’s shoulders, while his other hand pushes back a few stray tousles of his long raven hair.
As his gaze shifts toward Satoru for a moment, a playful spark flickers in his eyes.
“But… let’s not downplay the real showstopper,” Suguru’s attention slides over to you, lingering with an appreciative glance. “y/n,” he murmurs, “you’re absolutely breathtaking tonight.”
You can’t help but blush lightly—feeling the warmth and sincerity of his compliment. You manage a soft smile.
“Aww, thanks… you’re too kind, Suguru.”
Suddenly the atmosphere shifts—Satoru’s arm tightens around your waist, and the low, unamused hum that rumbles through his chest makes his feelings on the exchange very clear.
“Kind, hm?” His gaze slides from you to Suguru, narrowing with a protective edge. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
Suguru’s grin widens, clearly savoring the reaction he’s drawing out from his friend. There’s a certain satisfaction in the way his lips curl upward—knowing full well the tension he’s provoking.
“What?” He tilts his head to the side, feigning innocence. “I’m just calling it like I see it. And believe me, everyone’s seeing it tonight. y/n’s drawing the most attention.”
For a moment, the air between the two men thickens, and Satoru’s hand tightens ever so slightly around you.
“Mhm… she always does.”
Suguru raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained with Satoru’s reaction, and without missing a beat, he saunters over—casually draping an arm over Satoru’s shoulders—a gesture that both diffuses and provokes in the same motion. Pulling his friend in slightly, he shakes him playfully with an unwavering grin.
“Oh yes, of course,” Suguru replies smoothly. “I mean, some people just have that natural charm. I’m sure half the room is probably wondering ‘who is that stunning woman on your arm.’”
Ah… the familiar dynamic between them is at play. It’s almost like clockwork—the way Suguru knows how to needle Satoru without truly ruffling his feathers. Their friendship has always been this way—filled with teasing, and light jabs—but under it all, there’s a solid foundation of trust.
Suguru is his best friend, after all.
Rolling his eyes, the grin tugging at the corners of Satoru’s lips betray him. He shrugs Suguru’s arm off his shoulders—giving him a light shove.
“Yeah, well... they can wonder all they want,” Satoru quips, casual but pointed. He shifts, and before you can react, he takes your hand, guiding you toward him in one fluid motion. Holding you close, he presses a tender kiss to your temple—the warmth of his lips sending a flutter of butterflies through your chest. “Doesn’t change the fact that she’s with me,” he murmurs.
Suguru leans back slightly, clearly amused by how things are playing out, and his smirk widens—he can’t resist throwing in one last comment.
“Ahh… but if you’re not careful… someone might just steal her away.”
The words hang in the air, and for a brief second, everything feels charged—like a storm on the horizon. You can feel Satoru’s body tense ever so slightly, his fingers tightening on your waist. Suguru’s teasing is nothing unusual, but tonight... tonight it feels different. The thought of testing Satoru right now seems almost… dangerous.
Maybe it’s the setting, the way you’re dressed, or maybe it’s the fact that you both know he’s holding more than just your hand tonight.
The remote.
Fucking hell…Suguru may think he’s getting under Satoru’s skin, but you know better. Tonight is not the night to test Satoru’s patience.
Before the tension can build further, Shoko, ever the master of diffusing, steps in with a smirk and a light nudge to Suguru’s side.
“Well, it’s good to see nothing’s changed,” she remarks, full of playful exasperation. “Still managing to get under his skin, I see.”
Suguru chuckles, his smile widening as he throws his hands up in mock surrender. “It’s a gift,” he says with an exaggerated shrug.
Satoru’s grip on your waist loosens, the tension that had been simmering, melting away like snow under the sun from Shoko’s well-timed comment.
Oh, Shoko. You could kiss her right now—tonight, of all nights, you really needed that—needed her.
Satoru hums in response, the sound low and laced with mock approval as his gaze flickers between Suguru and you—his lips curving into a teasing smile.
“If by gift, you mean an annoyance, then sure,” he murmurs.
“Eh. Same thing,” Suguru shrugs, smiling—not phased in the slightest by Satoru’s retort.
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head in mock disapproval at the two of them.
“You two are impossible…” you murmur.
Before anyone can say more, a gentleman in a sharp suit approaches Satoru—tapping him lightly on the shoulder.
“Mr. Gojo, I believe the event coordinator needs a word with you about the auction details.”
Satoru’s eyes flicker briefly with irritation at the interruption, but ever the charmer, he covers it with a polite smile.
“Of course,” he responds smoothly. Before stepping away, he turns to you—lifting your hand gently into his own. His lips brush against your knuckles in a tender, lingering kiss, sending a soft warmth radiating through your chest. “I’ll be back in just a moment, sweetheart,” he murmurs.
You manage a smile as you watch him walk away, and as soon as Satoru is out of earshot, Shoko leans in closer to you—her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
“Sooo, how are things really?” her eyes gleam with playful curiosity. “Satoru keeping you on your toes?”
Well… that’s one way to put it—if only she knew half of it. You take a small breath, glancing briefly at Satoru as he moves across the room.
“Yeah…” a soft, fond smile spreads across your face. “You could say that…”
“Well,” she chuckles, patting your arm gently, “I’ll give you this—two years with Satoru? You deserve a medal,” she teases. “I can’t believe it’s been that long. Seems like just yesterday we were all at this gala, two years ago. Remember?”
“How could I forget?” you murmur, your voice dropping slightly as you recall that night, still so vivid. “It was... intense.”
Shoko grins, her eyes bright with recollection.
“Intense?” She shakes her head. “You two practically set the room on fire. The way he looked at you that night? I swear… I thought the whole world was going to stop spinning.”
Her words bring a slight flush to your cheeks, and you can’t help but smile at the memory.
“And now, look at you…” Shoko continues, her tone softening with affection. “Two years in, and he’s still completely wrapped around your finger.”
You bite your lip, feeling a warmth flutter in your chest.
“Well…he’s persistent, I’ll give him that,” you admit, your fingers absentmindedly twisting the ring on your hand—a gesture you do without thinking.
Ah…but it’s not the ring you want it to be.
Shoko notices the subtle movement, her eyes flicking to your hand before she gives you a knowing smirk.
“Oh, please,” she teases, flicking a hand toward you with a playful roll of her eyes. “Persistent? The man’s practically obsessed. Not that I blame him, of course.” She gestures to your gown—the fabric shimmering under the soft lights. “Seriously. You do look stunning, as always.”
You chuckle softly at her compliment—shaking your head. “Thanks, Sho.”
From the side, Suguru, who had been quietly watching the exchange, finally steps forward, his smile soft and genuine.
“Man… two years already, huh?” he remarks, rich with sincerity—his gaze shifting between you and where Satoru had gone. “You and Satoru... I never would’ve guessed it back then, but now? It just makes sense.”
You tilt your head slightly, genuinely intrigued by his words. “What do you mean?” you ask, meeting his gaze.
Suguru chuckles, a warm, low sound.
“I mean… you balance him out. He needs someone like you—someone who can handle him and keep him grounded. You keep him on his toes, but you also... well, you make him better.”
His words catch you off guard—you feel your heart swell and a faint blush paint your cheeks.
“I never thought about it like that,” you admit, offering him a soft smile.
“Well, it’s true,” Suguru replies, his smile widening as he casually shoves his hands in his pockets. “Look, I know he’s not the easiest guy to deal with, but with you? He’s found someone worth changing for.”
You blink, his words sinking in, and you feel the weight of the compliment settle in your chest. It’s not often people see beyond the surface of Satoru and his larger-than-life persona, but Suguru always had a way of getting to the heart of things.
“Thanks, Suguru. That... that means a lot.”
Shoko, sensing the tender turn of the conversation, steps back in with her usual playful demeanor—her smirk returning in full force.
“Alright, alright,” she interjects with a mock sigh, “Enough of this heart-to-heart. I’m off to find a drink before this turns into a therapy session,” she jokes, giving your arm a light squeeze before she starts sauntering off toward the bar.
You and Suguru are left standing there as you watch her go—his head shaking slightly with amusement.
“She’s always like that…” he murmurs, half to himself.
You’re about to respond, to make some lighthearted comment in return, when the world around you suddenly shifts—tilts, really, in a way that sends a jolt of warmth radiating through your core. It’s subtle, barely noticeable at first, but your body betrays you—stiffening as a wave of unexpected pleasure coils low in your stomach. Your breath catches, and before you can even process what’s happening, a soft gasp slips past your lips.
Oh, no. No, no, no. Not now.
Suguru, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice the sudden change in your demeanor—he continues talking, oblivious to the soft hum of the Hula beads that have sprung to life inside you. But you know. You know exactly what’s happening.
Satoru.
The soft, torturous vibrations pulse through you, teasing, building in intensity just enough to make your legs wobble slightly. It’s maddening—the way the beads twist and hum with perfect, controlled precision, sending sharp, undeniable shocks of pleasure through your core—the kind that makes your knees want to give out if you’re not careful.
You swallow hard, desperately trying to maintain your composure, nodding along to whatever Suguru is saying. God… what is he even saying? His words are little more than background noise to the mounting pressure building inside of you.
Fucking Satoru.
You’ve been left alone for all of two minutes, and he’s already playing with you. Already reminding you who’s in control tonight.
Your pulse races as you glance around the room, frantically searching for him—and there he is, across the room, casually speaking with someone. His white hair catches the soft light, making him stand out even in the crowd, and his gaze is focused on the conversation—until it’s not. His eyes flick over to you, locking with yours in a way that feels like a tether between you both.
And then he smirks.
The kind of smirk that says he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.
Your chest tightens as the vibrations inside you shift—deeper, more intense—and you have to bite your lip to suppress a whimper. You want to scream, to curse him from across the room, but you can’t. Not with Suguru standing right here.
“y/n?” Suguru asks softly, concerned. “You alright?”
Oh God…are you obvious?
You swallow hard, nodding quickly. “Y-yeah,” you stammer, clearing your throat. “Just… the room’s a bit, erm… warm.”
Warm? That’s the best you could come up with?
Suguru raises an eyebrow, clearly sensing that something’s off, but too kind to push it. Instead, he gives you a soft, reassuring smile—his hand coming to rest gently on your arm. It’s a simple touch that would normally be comforting, but right now, it only heightens your awareness of the relentless pulses inside you—and Satoru’s own relentlessness.
Because then, without warning, the Hula beads kick up in intensity.
The sudden surge of vibration hits you like a shockwave, and you nearly double over from the sensation as it reaches your clit. Your knees almost give out, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to gasp aloud. The vibrations aren’t just subtle anymore; they’re deep, insistent, pushing you closer and closer to the edge with each agonizing pulse.
Fuck.
Your breath hitches, and you have to dig your nails into your palms to keep yourself grounded. The wet heat building inside you feels like it’s going to explode. You glance back at Satoru—catching sight of his unwavering gaze—and in that brief, charged moment, he mouths the words to you slowly, deliberately:
You’re mine.
Your cunt drips. Oh God… he’s doing this because of Suguru—reminding you that no matter who you’re talking to, no matter who you’re with, you belong to him.
A flush of heat spreads through your cheeks, and you quickly turn your attention back to Suguru, hoping to hide the storm brewing inside of you. He continues speaking, but you barely hear him. Every nerve in your body is too focused on the pulsing hum—on the way your body reacts involuntarily to every shift in vibration.
Oh, Shoko—you could strangle her.
If she hadn’t left you alone with Suguru, maybe you wouldn’t be standing here on the brink of losing control, struggling to keep your legs from buckling under the pressure of the relentless pleasure surging through you.
Your gaze snaps to Satoru, and for a brief, charged moment, he meets your eyes. His hand slips into his pocket, his expression infuriatingly smug, as if to say, Remember who’s in control.
The vibrations surge even more—your entire body tensing. It’s too much.
You’re so close—too close. Your pussy quivers as you teeter on the edge of release, and all you can do is bite your lip to stifle the whimper that’s threatening to escape.
But just as the pressure coils and the pleasure peaks—right when you’re about to fall over the precipice—everything stops. The vibrations cease entirely, leaving you trembling and breathless—your body screaming for a release that’s been snatched away.
You blink in shock—your legs weak as your slick drips down your thigh—the sudden loss of sensation leaving you reeling.
Ready to shoot Satoru a glare, the moment you look in his direction you barely register the fact that he’s already moving towards you and Suguru with long purposeful strides—and in seconds, he’s standing beside you.
“So sorry to interrupt,” his hand slips around your waist—pulling you flush against him as his thumb brushes lightly over your hip. “But I think I’ll be stealing her away now.”
Suguru chuckles, unaware of the game Satoru’s been playing—or just how close you came to unraveling right in front of him.
“Tch… already?” he tilts his head, grin widening. “We barely had a chance to catch up.”
Satoru doesn’t miss a beat, his gaze flicking from Suguru to you—eyes dark with intent.
“Oh, I’m sure we’ll all have time for that later…” his tone is casual, but there’s a hidden edge beneath the surface, and when his eyes meet yours, there’s a dangerous glint—a silent promise that makes your breath hitch and a shiver run down your spine. “Right now,I need her,” he smirks.
Suguru raises an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over you—lingering a moment too long as if noticing the flush of your cheeks, the way you’re clinging to Satoru’s arm a little more tightly than usual.
With a theatrical sigh, he shoves his hands into his pockets.
“Guess I’ll go find Shoko then, so I don’t have to be the third wheel.” As he takes a step back, he gives you one last playful glance. “But don’t hog her all night, Satoru,” he warns teasingly even as he steps away. “I expect to get at least one dance later.”
Satoru chuckles dismissively—his focus already shifting entirely to you as Suguru fades out of existence. “Yeah, right… not happening,” he mutters under his breath.
The moment Suguru’s out of earshot, Satoru tightens his grip on your waist, pulling your body flush against his. A slow smirk tugs at his lips the moment you feel the unmistakable evidence of his arousal—his cock, hard and unyielding, pressing into you.
“You looked like you were about to fall apart back there, sweetheart,” his lips brush your ear as he tenderly trails his fingers through your hair. “Tell me… you were so close, weren’t you?”
Your breath stutters as his hand slides slowly, possessively down your back. The heat of his touch seeps through the fabric of your dress, making your body shudder as he lingers just above the curve of your hips. Your cunt aches for the release he denied you.
“Satoru…you’re... so unfair.”
“Unfair?” he chuckles, pulling back slightly and running his thumb tenderly across your lower lip—watching your breath hitch at his touch. “Oh, princess… if only you knew…” His voice drops lower—lips ghosting over yours as he whispers, “I want to drag you away and show you just how unfair I can be.”
You bite your lip, stifling a moan—the heat pooling between your legs. Your hand instinctively rests against his chest, fingers brushing the smooth fabric of his tuxedo—feeling the rapid thrum of his heartbeat mirroring your own. Your lips part as you take in a shaky breath.
“Take me somewhere right now… I don’t care where, just… please don’t make me wait any longer.”
Your voice is breathless, desperate, and the moment the words leave your lips, you see the shift in his expression—his cock twitches in his pants and his eyes darken with raw desire. He clenches his jaw and breathes sharply through his nose, almost as if he’s trying to regain control. As he lowers his forehead against yours, you feel his hand drop from your hair to grip your hips possessively.
“Fuck...” he growls softly, “You have no idea how hard you have me. Every time you look at me like that...” he exhales, his fingers pressing harder into you as his gaze drops to your lips. “…I just want to take you right here.”
His touch slides lower, fingers trailing over the curve of your hip before they begin to glide back up, slipping teasingly over the small of your back. It’s an innocent enough motion to anyone watching—but the way his fingers linger, the way his body presses into yours, it sends a tingling wave of heat to your pussy.
“If we weren’t in public right now…” his voice rumbles against your skin as he nuzzles into the delicate curve of your neck, “I’d have you on your knees, begging for me. I’d make you scream my name so loud, the only thing you’d be able to think about is how much you fucking need me.”
Your knees nearly give way at the intensity of his words, but his strong arm tightens around you, steadying you. You whine as his fingers rise up to weave through your hair again, tugging gently as his other hand returns to your waist, trailing down slowly before gripping your hip again.
“Mmm… but not yet,” he whispers, dripping with control. “Not here.”
You let out a soft, frustrated groan, leaning into his chest, craving more—craving him. His infuriating smirk brushes against your skin, and he hums in amusement. He pulls you back to look at you, his hand coming up the tenderly cup your cheek.
“Come now,” he murmurs affectionately, “You’ll behave for me, won’t you, sweetheart?”
You exhale heavily, rolling your eyes despite the tight knot of desire twisting inside you.
“Yes...” you mumble.
His eyebrow arches as he leans in, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes… I’ll behave,” you huff in frustration.
A slow, satisfied smirk tugs at Satoru’s lips as he pulls back. He caresses your hair once more and presses a gentle, lingering kiss to your temple.
“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, the words wrapping around you like a promise. “Because if you don’t… I’ll fucking ruin you later.”
Oh, you know he will—and you’ll love every second of it.
The night was going smoothly. The opulent charity gala had everything: fine champagne, crystal chandeliers, and the hum of soft conversation drifting through the ballroom. Satoru had barely left your side, his hand lingering on your waist, warm and magnetic—making you feel like the queen of the event, and every glance from the elite in attendance told you the same thing.
Together, you were commanding the room.
But then… she walked in.
Mei-Mei.
Her entrance was nothing short of dramatic—icy beauty wrapped in a form-fitting, silk gown that shimmered with every step and clung to her every curve. Heads turned, conversations quieted, and the air in the ballroom seemed to shift as she sauntered through the crowd with effortless grace.
Mei-Mei was made for these kinds of events. She exuded money, and it wasn’t just in her attire; it was in her entire demeanor—the confidence of someone who wouldn’t hesitate to buy anything she desired—including people. And more than anything, that’s exactly what she wanted to project.
Her sharp, catlike eyes scan the room slowly, as if weighing its worth, and you can instantly feel the moment her gaze lands on you—and on Satoru.
Once upon a time, long before you entered his life, Mei-Mei had been Satoru’s girlfriend. And her interest in him? Well… it had never been about love.
No, Mei-Mei was a woman who measured people by their value—their status, their influence, and most importantly, their wealth. Satoru had checked all the boxes—he was power personified, and she loved the way that power elevated her—until she overplayed her hand and Satoru had walked away.
The façade had cracked—once Satoru had realized what she was truly after, how she valued his bank account more than anything else, he was through. He had never spoken much about their prior relationship, but you’ve heard enough through whispers in social circles.
But Mei-Mei? She’d never forgiven him for it—he had stolen away the life she had always dreamed for herself.
Now, as her eyes flick over you and Satoru, you catch sight of the challenge forming behind her sharpened smile as she immediately changes her course.
You can feel Satoru’s arm instinctively tighten around your waist, his body leaning slightly into yours—he’s noticed her too. You glance up at him, offering a soft smile—your silent way of telling him, you’re fine.
She’s not going to rattle you. Not tonight.
Her heels click in rhythmic precision against the marble floor as she approaches, and once she finally reaches you, her lips curl into a smile—sharp and precise—designed to appear friendly but lacking any warmth.
“Ah, y/n, dear,” she began, smooth as silk but dripping with condescension. “You look... cute tonight.” Her gaze flicks to Satoru for a fraction of a second before landing back on you. “I suppose Satoru always did have a thing for... simplicity.”
Oh… she wants to play?
Fine. You meet her eyes without hesitation—your unwavering smile poised and steady.
“Simplicity?” you echo, letting a carefree laugh slip through. “Oh, darling… simplicity is what makes elegance effortless. I suppose that’s a skill not everyone can master, hmm?”
For just a fraction of a second, you see it—her mask slips. Her smile falters, her jaw tightens, and her eyes narrow just a little too much. It’s quick, but you catch it.
Got her.
But Mei-Mei doesn’t like being outmaneuvered. Especially not by you.
Her eyes flick away from yours, turning to Satoru with a renewed smile—wider, as if trying to reclaim control. But you see through the charm; there’s bitterness behind it.
“Well,” she continues, voice dripping with false nostalgia, “Satoru and I were quite the power couple once, weren’t we?” her gaze flicks back to you. “I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten.”
As her voice drops, like a private whisper shared between ex-lovers, you feel Satoru tense beside you. His grip on you tightens as though he’s silently urging you to ignore her. But nah—you aren’t about to back down. Not tonight.
Letting your hand trail slowly down the front of Satoru’s tux, your fingertips graze the fabric teasingly as you glance up at him, offering a soft, playful smile. His eyes soften immediately, and he pulls you a little closer.
“Mmm… but memories have a funny way of fading when you’ve found something far more fulfilling.”
Satoru responds immediately, his gaze melting into yours, the tension in his shoulders easing as his fingers squeeze your waist slightly—a silent declaration of where his loyalties lie. Your voice is sweet, affectionate, and though your words are for Satoru, they’re aimed squarely at Mei-Mei.
You catch sight of her reaction in the corner of your eye—the way her fingers clench around her designer clutch a bit too tightly—a crack of frustration leaking through her forced smile.
“You know,” she starts again, this time more pointed, “men like Satoru tend to... wander. He’s incapable of settling down, so I wouldn’t get too comfortable if I were you.”
The jab hangs in the air, and you feel Satoru stiffen beside you. He’s clearly irritated now, but it’s not her words that bother you—it’s the audacity.
How dare she throw shade at him?
Your eyebrow arches, and a light, almost dismissive laugh escapes your lips. The sound slices through her words, gentle but cutting.
“Oh, Mei-Mei…” you coo, her name slipping off your tongue with a mix of sweetness and pity. “You see, some men wander when they’re searching for something they don’t have. But when they’ve found what they truly want? They stay.”
Your words hit her like a slap disguised as a caress, and you see the moment it lands—underneath the lacy mask resting on the bridge of her nose, her eyes flash, and her smile tightens. Despite her best efforts, she tries to remain composed.
“I suppose we’ll see how long that lasts.”
You smile serenely, unbothered, and tilt your head slightly, like you’re humoring a child.
“Yes, well. Satoru’s never been one to settle for anything less than what he deserves. I suppose that’s why he left you.”
The subtle shift in her demeanor tells you everything you need to know.
You’ve won.
The frustration beneath her surface bubbles to the top, and it’s barely hidden behind the sharp scoff that escapes her lips. Her exit is quick, muttering some vague excuse before turning on her heel and sauntering away with stiff shoulders. Ahh… her movements are a bit too rigid for someone who’s pretending not to care.
Your heart swells pridefully with the satisfaction of standing your ground as you watch her go—not just for yourself, but for Satoru too. Your Satoru.
You feel his grip on you tighten the moment Mei-Mei disappears from view, and before you can even process what’s happening, he's pulling you flush against him—his body warm, firm, and incredibly close.
The heat radiating from him feels almost electrifying, and his breath ghosts against the shell of your ear.
“Fuck… do you have any idea how hot that was?”
You bite your lip—the victory was sweet, but the fire in his words make it even sweeter. A wave of heat spreads through your core.
“You were incredible,” he murmurs, lips brushing your neck. “God you’re perfect… so fucking perfect.”
His praise stokes the fire that’s already building within you, and you’re keenly aware of every inch of him pressed firmly on your hip—his cock twitching against you.
“Yeah…?” you grin, snaking your arms around his neck and brushing your fingers through his hair. “Do I finally get my reward?”
A low chuckle rumbles through his chest, and he pulls back just enough to hover his lips over yours, teasingly close.
“Oh, sweetheart... you deserve so much more than a reward. I want to take you apart, piece by fucking piece.”
The intensity of his gaze and the hunger in his voice sends your mind spinning and your cunt dripping, but just as your lips part, ready to respond, the moment is shattered.
“Oi, lovebirds!” Shoko’s teasing voice cuts through the haze of desire, her playful smirk and a raised eyebrow unmistakable as she approaches with Suguru right behind her. “Auction’s about to start. Unless you two plan on putting on a show for the whole room?”
Satoru lets out a frustrated growl, his forehead pressing against yours as he takes a slow, steadying breath. His grip on your waist lingers for a moment before he reluctantly loosens his hold.
“Perfect fucking timing,” he mutters under his breath, casting a mock glare at Shoko and Suguru.
“Save it for later, Satoru,” Suguru chimes in with a chuckle, reveling in his annoyance. “There’ll be plenty of time for you two to... ‘catch up,’ after the auction, right?”
Satoru rolls his eyes but can’t help the grin that tugs at the corner of his mouth. Leaning down, he places a lingering kiss upon your lips.
“Later, kay?” he murmurs, “This is far from over.”
The atmosphere in the room shifts as the auction begins—the hum of conversation fading to a soft murmur. A dim glow washes over the ballroom, casting a warm light that bounces off the crystal chandeliers and reflects in the glasses scattered across the elegantly decorated tables. You sit comfortably beside Satoru, feeling the warmth of his hand resting casually on your thigh beneath the table—his thumb rubbing lazy circles against your skin.
There’s a soft hum of anticipation as the auctioneer takes the stage, microphone in hand—his voice cutting through the ambient noise with practiced ease.
“And now, for our first item for the evening,” the auctioneer announces with an air of ceremony. “We have something truly special—a limited-edition necklace from the Gojo Jewelry Collection. This timeless piece showcases the elegance of infinity, adorned with rare, precious sapphire jewels, designed exclusively for this event.”
Satoru sits up a little straighter, his hand tightening slightly on your thigh. The rest of the room seems to follow his gaze as the spotlight shifts to the display case. And there it is—the necklace.
It gleams under the warm lighting, the infinity pendant catching the rays in a way that makes the jewels shimmer like stars. The design is breathtaking, a perfect balance of boldness and grace, simplicity and luxury.
You’ve always admired Satoru’s designs, but this one feels particularly special. It’s more than just a piece of jewelry; it’s a statement, a testament to his creativity and craftsmanship.
You can’t help but lean in closer to Satoru, admiration bubbling within as the pendant slowly spins on its pedestal, casting tiny flecks of light across the room.
“It’s gorgeous,” you breathe.
Satoru’s lips curve into a self-satisfied smirk, his eyes glinting with pride.
“Mmm, told ya it’d turn some heads,” he murmurs. “Definitely one of my favorites.”
Your gaze sweeps across the room to gauge the crowd’s reaction, and then you see her—Mei-Mei—sitting at one of the prime tables, posture immaculate, her sharp eyes already fixed on the necklace with a look of pure, calculated hunger.
Of course.
Of course, she’d want his necklace—because it’s not just about the necklace itself—it’s the prestige of wearing something tied to Satoru, a statement that she could have something rare, exclusive, and coveted.
“This necklace represents timeless elegance and endless love,” the auctioneer says smoothly, offering a subtle nod toward Satoru. “And, as a limited edition, we are thrilled to offer this piece. It’s truly one of a kind, created exclusively for tonight’s event.”
You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at that.
Oh? Is that what it represents?
Well then—who are you to let Mei-Mei walk away with it? The idea of her winning something tied to Satoru, of her flaunting that connection, fuels a competitive spark in you.
The bidding starts, and unsurprisingly, Mei-Mei is quick to raise her paddle, her face smug with satisfaction as she bids confidently.
“Six thousand!” the auctioneer calls out, voice booming through the ballroom.
Leaning back slightly in your chair, your fingers casually brush over Satoru’s hand on your thigh. He looks at you, his curious gaze meeting yours as you offer him a knowing smirk, and he quirks an eyebrow, clearly intrigued as you lazily raise your paddle.
“Seven thousand,” a soft smile graces your lips.
Satoru’s grip tightens slightly on your thigh, and you feel the low hum of approval rumbling from him. Mei-Mei’s eyes snap toward you, narrowing in disbelief—she clearly hadn’t expected you to join in. But there it is—that flicker of annoyance. Her paddle goes up again, just as you knew it would.
“Ten thousand,” Mei-Mei counters.
The auctioneer nods in her direction. “Ten thousand! Do I hear twelve?”
Without missing a beat, you lift your paddle once more, your smile growing. “Twelve thousand.”
Satoru’s eyes glitter with amusement as he watches the subtle tension building between you and Mei-Mei. His hand slides a little higher on your thigh, fingers pressing with a bit more intent as he leans in—breath warm against your ear.
“Fuck… this is seriously turning me on way more than it should…” he mutters. “You’re going to make her lose her mind.”
You bite back a grin. “Mmm, well, that’s the plan.”
The bidding continues, but now Mei-Mei hesitates, the confidence in her posture starting to falter.
“Fifteen thousand,” you say smoothly, your paddle already raised.
Mei-Mei’s lips press together into a thin line. Her eyes flash with frustration as she debates whether to push higher. After a tense moment, she raises her paddle again, but her voice lacks its earlier bravado.
“Sixteen thousand,” a hint of uncertainty creeps into her tone.
You don’t even flinch.
“Twenty thousand.”
Satoru’s fingers tighten on your thigh again, his breath hitching slightly as he leans in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“God, you’re so damn hot when you’re like this,” he growls, shifting slightly in his seat from his growing erection.
Your heart races with satisfaction as your eyes lock on Mei-Mei’s once more, daring her to keep going. But the resolve in her eyes wavers. Slowly, with a barely concealed pout, she lowers her paddle.
“Twenty thousand, going once… going twice… sold to the lovely lady in the elegant gown!” The auctioneer’s gavel comes down with a decisive crack, and the room erupts into polite applause.
As the ripple of applause moves throughout the room, it’s Mei-Mei’s sour expression that you relish in most. Ah, victory feels sweet.
You lean back in your chair, turning to Satoru with a playful, victorious smile.
“Well… that was fun.”
He’s practically beaming, eyes dark with pride and something more as his hand slips up your thigh—teasingly close to your core now.
“I swear to God… I don’t know how I’m going to make it through the rest of this auction without pulling you into the nearest empty room and fucking you.”
His words make your pussy drip, but before you can respond, the auctioneer’s voice booms once again, drawing your attention back to the stage.
“And now, we have something special for the next event. This is one of our unique auction segments—where attendees have the chance to bid for a dance with one of our lovely participants. All the proceeds will go to tonight’s charity, of course.”
There’s a murmur of interest from the crowd, a few amused chuckles as people begin to sit up a little straighter. You, however, remain mostly unbothered, still riding the high from outbidding Mei-Mei— and the arousal of Satoru’s fingers caressing your thigh underneath the table.
But then, something pulls your attention back to the stage—a faint thread of confusion beginning to weave through your thoughts as you hear the list of names being read out.
Did you… just hear your name? Wait… what?
You whip your head toward Satoru—and his expression mirrors your confusion, eyebrows raising slightly. But before you can fully register what’s happening, you catch sight of Suguru across the table—grin wide, eyes glinting with mischief.
Oh no…
Your mind scrambles, replaying the events of earlier in the night. Suguru had been chatting with you, something about the auction—while you were busy being thoroughly distracted by Satoru's relentless teasing with the Hula beads. The memories blur together, but now you realize…
Oh god… you’d been so focused on the pleasure that you barely even processed Suguru’s words. Did you accidentally agree to this?
Before you can react, the auctioneer is already moving forward, inviting the women participating in the dance auction to step on stage. And there it is—your name again, clear as day, listed among them.
Satoru stiffens beside you, his grip on your thigh tightening as he whips his head toward Suguru. A pointed look flashes across his face, but Suguru, oh, Suguru—he’s practically glowing with amusement. Leaning back in his chair, his arms cross over his chest as if enjoying every second of this unfolding chaos.
“Suguru…” Satoru hisses under his breath. “Was this your doing?”
Suguru shrugs, his smirk widening in response to the clear irritation radiating from Satoru.
“What?” he says with faux innocence. “y/n agreed to it.”
Satoru’s eyes narrow and his grip on you tightens. There’s a moment of tension as you feel him lean in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he growls, “…you agreed to this?”
Your mind scrambles for an explanation, but before you can respond, Suguru’s voice cuts in again.
“It’s for charity,” Suguru adds with a playful lilt. “It’ll be fun.”
His words hang in the air like a taunt, and Satoru’s eyes narrow at Suguru—his possessive grip tightening on your plush thigh as his jaw clenches.
“C’mon Satoru. Let’s see how much your girl is worth.”
As the auctioneer repeats your name over the microphone, drawing the crowd’s attention to you, you feel every pair of eyes in the room turning in your direction. Satoru leans in closer—his breath warm against your ear.
“Fine then… I hope you’re ready for this, sweetheart,” he murmurs, the teasing edge in his voice betraying the simmering tension beneath it.
Your stomach flips from the intensity of his gaze, and you hesitate for a moment—glancing between the stage and Satoru. Uh oh… the heat is rolling off him in waves—it’s clear he’s not thrilled with the idea of you being up there for everyone to bid on, but… what is that mischievous glint in his eye?
That’s a bit… unsettling.
Reluctantly, you stand—your heart racing as you smooth down your dress and make your way toward the stage. The spotlight warms your skin, and the auctioneer welcomes you with an enthusiastic gesture. But before you can fully settle into the moment, you feel it—a soft, familiar pulse deep within you.
Fucking hell. Here?
The vibrations start low, teasing, but enough to make your knees wobble slightly as you stand in front of the crowd. You glance down at Satoru, who remains seated, his eyes locked onto you with an almost predatory gleam. His lips curve into a slow, knowing smirk as his fingers tap lightly against his thigh—a silent admission that he’s the one behind the sudden wave of pleasure coursing through your body.
He is cruel—doing this while you’re on stage.
The auctioneer wastes no time, diving right into the event as he begins introducing each woman on stage, one by one. The crowd’s attention is fixed on the participants as the bids for each woman slowly climb higher, some reaching $5,000 before being closed off with a cheerful crack of the auctioneer’s gavel.
But as you stand there—your heart thudding in your chest as you wait for your turn—the vibrations pulsing deep inside you are a constant, teasing reminder of Satoru’s hold over you.
“And now, for our next participant—y/n!” The auctioneer’s voice rings out, and the crowd’s attention immediately shifts to you. A murmur ripples through the ballroom as you stand in the spotlight, trying to maintain your composure—but the slow, torturous vibrations leave you dripping in front of everyone.
You swallow hard as the auctioneer begins at a low price, and before anyone else can react, Satoru’s hand shoots up.
“Five thousand,” he calls out, voice steady, eyes locked on you.
Before you can process it fully, another voice cuts in, smooth and confident—Suguru.
“Seven thousand,” his gaze flickers briefly to Satoru—daring him to up the stakes.
Satoru clenches his jaw, but his gaze never leaves yours. His hand goes up again.
“Ten thousand.”
Your breath hitches—this bidding is escalating so quickly it’s making your head spin, and the relentless vibrations are driving you wild.
Suguru chuckles as he raises his paddle, enjoying every second of this. “Twenty thousand,” he smirks, leaning back in his chair.
The crowd murmurs, a few gasps here and there, but no one dares interrupt this battle of wills between the two men. You bite your lip, feeling the pulse of the beads inside you grow stronger. Fuckfuckfuck… your body reacts involuntarily, and a soft gasp escapes your lips.
Satoru notices immediately and the corner of his lips twitch up slightly. His gaze darkens, and without missing a beat, he raises his paddle once more. “Fifty thousand.”
The room falls silent, and your heart drums in your chest, racing alongside the vibrations tormenting your body. Shifting your weight slightly, your pussy hums in pleasure under the spotlight—struggling to hold yourself together.
Suguru, leans back, arms crossing over his chest as he studies Satoru, clearly impressed by his boldness. Then, just as it looks like he’s about to raise his paddle again, Satoru leans forward and his voice drops even lower.
“One hundred thousand.”
The crowd gasps. The entire ballroom seems to shift—stunned by the sheer audacity of the number.
Raising an eyebrow, Suguru lets out a low amused whistle. Then, with a smirk, he raises his hands in mock surrender, chuckling under his breath. “Well, well, Satoru… looks like you win.”
As Suguru places his paddle down, the grin plastered upon his face makes it painfully obvious –he’s thoroughly enjoyed how far this has gone, and the auctioneer, momentarily speechless, quickly attempts to recover.
“One hundred thousand, going once… going twice…” he slams his gavel down with a sharp crack. “Sold to Mr. Gojo for one hundred thousand dollars!”
The applause that follows feels distant—entirely drowned out by the overwhelming sensations coursing through your wet cunt. This is torture. Your legs are weak, your pulse racing, and Satoru’s eyes are locked on you, burning with intensity.
Leaning back in his chair, a slow possessive smirk spreads across his lips.
He’s told the entire room—and you—that you belong to him.
The applause disappears into background noise as Satoru grabs your hand—a grip that’s firm and relentless. There’s no time for conversation, no time for teasing words—he’s already pulling you away from the auction, weaving through the crowd with purposeful strides.
The way his body is practically humming with urgency, tells you everything—it’s an urgency that matches the pulsing throb still lingering in your clit from his playful torture during the auction.
You stumble slightly to keep up as he moves through the dim lights of the ballroom—everything blurring together as he maneuvers through tables. Once you reach the edge of the room, he guides you into one of the shadowy hallways leading away from the event.
“Satoru…” the moment his name leaves your lips, he shoots a glance back at you, dark and filled with unbridled need.
“Not a fucking word,” his grip tightens on your hand as he pulls you along. “If you say another word…” his breath hitches, “I’ll fuck you right here, against this wall. I don’t care who sees.”
Oh, he’s barely restrained—it’s a hunger that’s been building all night.
Everything fades into the background as he guides you down the empty corridor, and the moment he reaches a single door hidden at the end, he’s shoving it open and dragging you inside.
The room is dimly lit, but he doesn’t give you the time of day to take in your surroundings—no—he’s on you in an instant.
“I can’t fucking wait any longer,” kicking the door shut with his foot, his hands immediately find your waist as he presses you up against the nearest wall. “Fucking finally…” he growls, rolling his erection against you, making you gasp. “Feel that?” his lips brush against your ear as his hands slide lower, gripping your ass tightly. “That’s what you’ve done to me all night.”
“Satoru—” he cuts you off with a bruising kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips with an intensity that leaves you breathless.
Your head spins as his hands rampantly roam your body. He’s desperate for you—grunting as he pins you—the wall against your back, his cock between your legs. His forceful friction makes your body arch, and you can feel his smug smirk curling against your lips as you let out a soft, needy moan.
He pulls away—his lips grazing your jawline as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck.
“Do you know how fucking hard it was for me to sit there,” he accentuates his words with a ruthless thrust, “seeing you squirm, knowing you were soaking wet and no one else could tell?”
His lips crash back into yours, devouring you before he pulls away again.
“…watching you tell Mei-Mei off, knowing you’re mine,” his cock twitches at the memory as he grinds into you again, “fuck when you outbid her…all I could think about was bending you over that damn table to fuck you right in front of her.”
The filthy image he paints in your mind sends a surge of heat through your body, “fuck, that’s so hot…” you let out a breathless moan, your legs trembling as your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. “Need you, now.”
Another bruising kiss follows, his teeth grazing your lower lip, biting down gently before releasing it. He pulls away, and your cunt drips the moment he commands,
“Turn around.”
You oblige—moving on instinct as you spin around. Your palms press flat against the cool wall and your back arches just slightly as you present yourself to him.
Completely at his mercy—exactly how you both want it.
“Fuck, you look so perfect like this."
You hold your breath as his fingers purposefully slide over your ass, and the moment his hands find the hem of your dress, he gathers the fabric in his fists and urgently bunches it up your thighs, allowing the cool air to hit the wet fabric between your legs.
“Look at you,” he coos, tugging the dress up higher. “You’re fucking dripping, baby,” your heat intensifies as his fingers trace an outline on your pussy. “Jesus, you’re fucking soaked… wearing these beads all night… so wet for me.”
As he tugs your drenched panties down in one fell swoop, his fingers trace the slickness of your cunt—curling between the thin string of the Hula beads.
“You took them so well… now let me show you what comes next.”
You shudder as he slowly, torturously starts to remove them—the device dragging against your sensitive core, making your knees tremble. He hums in approval as the last of the Hula beads slip out.
But as you exhale shakily, Satoru doesn’t give you a moment to recover.
“—‘toru!” his hands grip your hips firmly as he forcefully guides to towards a nearby vanity—positioning himself behind you as he pushes you down in front of the mirror.
“You’ve had your fun baby, but now it’s my turn,” as the words leave his lips, you hear the unmistakable clink of his belt buckle, followed by the sound of his zipper sliding down—the urgency is evident in the way his hands work to release himself. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight.”
You gasp the moment his free cock presses against your bare skin, and your pussy grows more wet from the sound of him stroking himself, mixed with the shallow breaths escaping his lips.
Once you catch sight of his reflection in the mirror—cock in hand, eyes dark with lust, jaw clenched with restraint—fuck you know. He was feral.
His weeping tip lines up against your entrance.
“Look at you, trembling already…” he coos, rubbing your combined slick with his dick. “So desperate for it, aren’t you?”
Your head drops down and your legs quiver as he teases your entrance—fucking hell what is he waiting for? It’s maddening. You want to be filled, to finally feel the sweet release you’ve been tortuously denied all night.
Glancing up, you catch sight of his infuriating smirk in the reflection.
“Satoru, please hurry up,” you whine as his cock brushes against your clit.
A low chuckle rumbles from his chest. “Patience princess.”
You can’t wait.
Without his permission, you rock your hips back, and he slides in effortlessly as you take him in with one swift motion. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as his thick cock becomes soaked in your wetness, stretching you full.
Satoru sucks in a sharp breath—his grip on your hips tightening as he struggles to hold back the urge to burst inside you the very moment he bottoms out, right then and there. Your cunt is too fucking good.
"Fucking—wait, wait, wait," he hisses through clenched teeth—his cock twitching and his eyes fluttering shut as he quickly tries to steady himself.
You bite your lip, trembling as you watch his reaction in the mirror—the way he’s flexing…shuddering… oh god. How can you wait?
“Satoru… nngh,” your hips roll against him in slow deliberate motions, “haa—can’t wait anymore.”
His eyes snap open at your words, watching your reflection as his jaw clenches with unbridled restraint. He pursues his lips and exhales through his nose—and in that instant, there’s an immediate shift in him—a moment of pure unadulterated lust.
“Needy little thing…” his grip is, forceful, bruising as he growls, “goddamn it, princess…you couldn’t fucking wait. Fine.”
Oh, you’ve done it now.
Pulling back, he removes his dick just enough to slam forward with a brutal force that makes you cry out in pleasure. You drop your head on the vanity surface, gasping as he buries himself deep inside you.
“I’m going to fucking ruin you.”
He sets a brutal pace, each thrust harder as your pussy stretches around his thick pulsing cock—it’s too much, too perfect. The pleasure courses through your veins like fire as he drives into you with a relentless ferocity, leaving you shaking.
The vanity dresser rattles under his force, and the mirror reflects every delicious second of it—your body arching, your mouth falling open, the glazed-over look in your eyes as he ravishes your cunt. But most of all, the way Satoru watches you fall apart for him—possessive and proud.
His hand moves from your hips, sliding up the curve of your body to grip your chin. You whimper as he shifts deeper, leaning forward and forcing your gaze to peer directly in the mirror.
“C’mon now, look at yourself,” he pants, ragged as his hips slam into you with an unrelenting force. “Look how fucking pretty you look taking me like this.”
The pressure coils tight between your legs and your body hums as the pleasure becomes immeasurable. You don’t even realize how your eyes begin to flutter shut—not until his grip tightens on your chin, directing it forcefully to stare at your own reflection.
“No, no. Don’t you dare look away,” he slips two fingers in your mouth and you whimper at the intrusion. “Want you to see what a good girl you are for me.”
God, your head is spinning—the sight of watching him fuck you was so… erotic.
His lips curve into a slow, dangerous smirk as he takes in the sight of you completely fucked out—desperate, needy, sucking his fingers as you try to keep your eyes open, teetering on the edge of bliss—oh his cock twitches inside you.
“Haa—yesss… that’s my good girl…so fucking pretty. Takin m’ so well.”
The rhythm of his hips becomes erratic, his thrusts harder and deeper, each one sending jolts of ecstasy rippling through you. His breath becomes labored as his chest heaves against your back, and you can tell—yes, you can feel it—you’re both so close. So fucking close.
Each plunge pushes you further toward the edge, and your moans are muffled against his fingers. The coil in your belly winds tighter and tighter until you can hardly breathe.
“This what you wanted?” his fingers slip out of your mouth, a thin string of saliva connecting them before he brings his hand down, wrapping around your throat. “Tell me,” he pants, “say how fucking good I feel inside you.”
“—haa, so good…” you gasp, “’toru I’m—"
Your words are cut off by a shuddering cry as your body spasms, the intense pleasure crashing over you like a violent wave as your orgasm slams into you. Your walls tighten around him, coating his cock with your sweet slick as your body trembles uncontrollably in bliss.
“Fuuuck—that’s it, yes baby… squeeze me just like that,” his grip tightens on your throat as his hips slam into yours with reckless abandon. “So tight… fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He’s panting, his chest pressed against your back as the wet slaps of skin against skin fills the room.
His pace quickens and the overstimulation pushes you further, prolonging your orgasm. You feel your legs begin the weaken as you can barely hold yourself up against the vanity—his cock relentlessly hitting that spot deep inside you.
“’toru—fuck,” you cry, reeling from your climax, “need you to cum… please—”
His jaw clenches, and his breath shudders as he tries to hold back, but the sight of you, completely undone and begging drives him absolutely wild. With a low deep groan, his hands grip your hips as he rapidly chases his own release.
“God—fuck—anything for you… just for you, baby,” he rasps as the tension coils tight in his gut. “Shit—I’m gonna fill you up… fuck, take it all.”
His cock twitches violently as he buries himself deep with one final, brutal thrust. Your name falls from his lips in breathless broken murmurs as he erupts inside you—warm sticky cum filling you to the brim and painting your walls white.
“Haaa—yess… good girl… good fucking girl,” his hips stutter erratically and his head falls forward, eyes squeezed shut.
You feel his grip on your hip loosen as he finally comes to a stop, and for a moment, neither of you move, and neither of you speak—just the sound of your heavy breathing as his chest rises and falls heavily against your back.
His fingers begin to gently brush against your waist, tracing slow soothing patterns—a touch so tender compared to that relentless grip he held on you just moments before, and a warm shiver shoots through you as you feel his lips brush against your shoulder in a soft, lingering kiss.
“I fucking love you, y’know that?” he murmurs affectionately.
A warmth blooms deep in your chest, spreading outward from his words.
“I love you too,” there is both exhaustion and endearment in your voice as you turn your head slightly to meet his gaze, wearing a grin.
His still heavy-lidded eyes lock onto yours and a lazy, adoring smile spreads across his lips.
“Y’know…” he leans down to press a kiss to the curve of your neck, “I dunno what I did to deserve you but…” he nuzzles into your neck and his arms wrap around you, “I’m never letting you go.”
You lean into his touch and hum pensively, “Good. Cause you’re stuck with me.”
He chuckles softly, holding you close and basking in the moment. Then, he grunts as he lifts himself up—wincing slightly as he finally pulls his spent cock from you. The sensation makes you both involuntarily shudder.
You sigh, leaning forward on the vanity, and with a surprising tenderness, he leans down and uses his handkerchief to begin cleaning you up carefully—wiping away the evidence of your shared pleasure.
But as his fingers brush delicately against your still oversensitive sex, a small whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it. He smirks at the sound and his eyes glint with amusement, clearly pleased by your reaction.
“Sensitive, huh?” he teases, though his touch remains gentle.
Rolling your eyes, you try to hide the smile tugging at your lips by burying your face into your arms—resting against the vanity.
“Well, what’d you expect?” you huff with mock exasperation—breath unsteady as he finishes cleaning you. “After the way you were teasing me all night?”
A low chuckle rumbles in his chest as his fingers linger a moment too long on your inner thighs, grazing dangerously close to where you’re still tender.
“Couldn’t help it,” he murmurs, his voice dropping a register. "You make it impossible to keep my hands off you…"
You suck in a sharp breath and glance back, giving him a playful but pointed look.
"Careful," you warn. "Or we’ll never make it back."
That devilishly charming grin curls upon his lips as his hands slide up and down your legs. “Mmm… well maybe I don’t want to make it back.”
Your breath hitches as his fingertips graze your skin one last time—then, he reaches down for your panties, and you watch through the mirror how he pockets them before finally smoothing down your bunched-up dress.
You glance back and shoot him a look, earning you a wicked grin.
“You’re hopeless…” you mumble, shaking your head as you straighten up, but before you can fully stand, his chest presses against your back, and you feel his strong arms wrap around you, pulling you close.
A soft sigh escapes him as he buries his face in your hair, inhaling your scent deeply.
“It’s not fair... I don’t wanna go back,” he whines. “I just want to hold you… keep you all to myself tonight.”
"We’ll have all night after this," you murmur, turning to kiss his cheek softly. "C’mon… just a little longer and I’m all yours."
He groans, and you try to break the embrace, but suddenly he spins you around and his hands drift to your hips, pulling you even closer against him.
"But I dunno if I can behave for that long…" he whispers, tenderly caressing your cheek. "You say that… but I’m already thinking about sneaking you away again. Can’t help myself."
Stifling a smile, you roll your eyes as you place a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back so you can get a better look at him.
"You're lucky I love you," you say with a mock sigh, reaching up to fix the collar of his shirt and smoothing down the wrinkles in his tux.
He watches you with that same lazy, adoring smile.
"Lucky doesn’t even begin to cover it, princess."
As the gala comes to a close, the party moves to the outside garden, with the warm autumn night wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. The chatter of guests mingles with the soft rustling of the trees, and the leaves have started turning shades of orange and red, but there’s still that lingering hint of summer in the air—a warmth that keeps the chill at bay.
There is a sense of awe in the way that the string lights twinkle above the garden, casting a soft glow over the crowd—and you stand beside Satoru amongst the masses, the warmth of his hand in yours.
But… for some reason there’s a certain energy radiating from him—something… different. He’s been uncharacteristically quiet during this last hour—a muted tension, almost like he’s… distracted?
“Satoru,” you ask softly, giving his hand a little squeeze. “You okay?”
He blinks, pulled out of whatever thoughts were clouding his mind, and turns to you with a soft smile.
“Yeah, sweetheart,” leaning in, his lips peck your temple, “just thinkin’.”
You raise an eyebrow, curiosity bubbling up inside you.
Thinking about what?
But before the words can leave your lips, the auctioneer from earlier approaches you, a bright smile on his face.
“Ah, Miss y/n, there you are,” he begins. “I hope you’ve been enjoying the event this year. I just wanted to personally congratulate you on your win tonight. Here is your necklace—it truly is one-of-a-kind.”
He holds out a sleek black box, and your eyes light up as you take it from him.
“Oh, thank you! I’ve been looking forward to this.”
You accept the box eagerly, your fingers moving quickly to open it, and the moment the necklace comes into view, your eyes widen. The jewels glimmer under the soft glow of the garden lights—with the intricately delicate curves and sparkling stones exuding an elegance that immediately captivates you.
“It’s even more stunning in person,” you breathe out, running your fingers over the smooth, polished metal.
Satoru peers down at the necklace in your hand, his lips curling into a subtle smirk.
“Mmm… well you fought well for it,” he teases lightly.
The auctioneer chuckles, nodding in agreement. “It was quite the bidding war. Congratulations once again, Miss y/n.” With a courteous nod, he steps back into the crowd, leaving you and Satoru alone under the twinkling garden lights.
As you turn to face Satoru, a victorious grin tugs at the corner of your lips. Holding the necklace up, you boast proudly.
“Told ya Mei-Mei didn’t stand a chance”
You’re relieved how the comment seems to make your typical Satoru return—his lips curl into a deep smirk and amusement dances in his bright eyes.
“Oh?” he raises an eyebrow, “You certainly went to war for this, huh?”
“Absolutely,” you playfully huff, lifting your chin proudly. “But, let’s be honest—you did an amazing job designing it. So of course, there was no way I was letting it go. It was all mine from the start.”
He hums softly, and just as quickly as it appeared, his cocky edge easily fades into something more tender. His gaze lingers on you, making your heart skip a beat.
“Yeah well… what can I say?” he tilts his head, “I know my girl’s taste.”
My girl.
You can’t help the gentle smile that breaks across your face, your heart swelling
“You do,” you whisper softly. “I love it.”
For a moment, the world fades away as you hold his gaze—a tenderness swirling in the familiar blue depths of his eyes. Then, he takes a small step closer.
“Here,” he murmurs, taking the necklace from your hand, “let me help you put it on.”
You nod as he moves behind you, and you hold your breath as his fingers delicately brush your skin—gathering your hair to one side. A soft shiver shoots down your spine from his touch, and he lingers while fastening the clasp around the nape of your neck. The cool metal of the necklace settles against you, but it’s the warmth of his hands that hold your attention.
After fastening the clasp with a quiet focus, his breath fans lightly over your ear as he leans in.
“There. It’s perfect.”
You raise your hand, lightly touching the pendant now resting against your collarbone, and turn to face him. His eyes aren’t on the necklace though—they’re entirely on you.
He takes a moment, letting his gaze travel over your face before meeting your own.
“You’re absolutely stunning,” he says softly, “I think it looks even better on you than I imagined.”
Your heart flutters wildly and his fingers tuck a stray lock of your hair gently behind your ear. Leaning in slightly, you melt as he pulls you in for a tender kiss. The warmth of his lips moves slowly, languidly against yours, and your hand comes up to rest against his chest—feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
Just as your lips part, your eyes flicker up to meet his. There is an intensity in his gaze that catches you off guard, making your breath hitch.
Why? Why does it feel like there is something simmering beneath the surface with him tonight?
But before you can sit on that thought any more, the speakers crackle to life, breaking the quiet intimacy and drawing your attention back to the event.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for your incredible generosity tonight!” the announcers voice echoes through the garden. “I’m thrilled to announce that this year’s charity gala has raised an astounding amount—thanks to your support, we’ve reached over two million dollars to benefit our causes!”
Applause erupts from the crowd below, and you turn your head, listening, but your eyes flicker back to Satoru, whose demeanor shifts ever so slightly as he listens. His jaw tightens, and his gaze turns distant for a moment. It's like he’s suddenly lost in thought.
What is up with him tonight?
“And now,” the announcer continues, “to wrap up this wonderful evening, we invite you to stay and enjoy the grand firework show, which will begin in just five minutes. Thank you again for attending, and have a magical night!”
The speakers cut off with a soft crackle, and the garden fills with clapping and cheers. Yet, as you glance at Satoru, he remains in his own world. Just as you’re about to open your mouth, Suguru suddenly swings into view, his arm draping casually over Satoru’s shoulder—oblivious to the lingering tension.
“There you are!” he chimes in with a grin. Satoru clears his throat, and they exchange a quick knowing glance between each other and your brow furrows as a subtle tension begins to crackle between them.
“Mind if I steal Satoru for a quick minute?” he turns, grinning to you—but there’s an undercurrent of something more serious beneath his demeanor.
Okay… is there something going on? Whatever it is, it feels like you’re being left out of the loop.
“Uh, yeah… sure,” you watch them step a few paces away, murmuring quietly to one another—catching glimpses of their expressions. Satoru looks unconventionally nervous as Suguru’s lips move quickly. Unusual…whatever they’re discussing, it’s clearly important to have Satoru on edge.
You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow as you watch the two of them.
What on earth are they plotting now?
After a few moments, they return. Satoru’s still got that charged energy, but there’s a determination in his eyes. Suguru, on the other hand, is grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“What’s going on?” you ask, eyeing them suspiciously.
“Oh, y’know, charity event stuff. Nothing too serious.” Suguru shrugs.
Riiiight… he’s clearly not going to give you any more information.
You narrow your eyes at him but before you can press further, Satoru reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. Suguru, catching the subtle tension, clears his throat and flashes you both a wide grin.
"Well, see you guys around," he says casually, waving flippantly. "I’m gonna grab one last drink before the fireworks start."
As he turns on his heel and walks away, Satoru’s hand gently tugs at yours, pulling you in the opposite direction—away from the crowd, away from the noise.
"C’mon," he murmurs, voice soft, almost hesitant.
You follow him, his hand gently guiding you towards a quiet stairwell that leads up to the venue’s balcony. But just as you approach the stairs, an event organizer steps into your path, clipboard in hand. She looks frazzled, her brow furrowed with stress.
"Oh! Mr. Gojo," she says, breathless, walking right up to the two of you. "Sorry to interrupt, but we’re finalizing some last-minute details regarding the auction earlier, and we really need—"
Before she can finish, Shoko appears seemingly out of nowhere, sliding up beside the woman with a smooth grin.
“Ah, don’t worry about them,” Shoko interrupts flawlessly, throwing an arm around the woman’s shoulders. “I’ve got it handled.”
The event organizer blinks, clearly taken aback, but Shoko doesn’t give her a moment to protest. Instead, she steers the woman gently back toward the crowd, already launching into some topic you can’t hear.
As they walk away, Shoko glances back at Satoru, giving him a subtle nod and mouthing “go” before disappearing into the crowd.
You raise an eyebrow, but before you can process the exchange, Satoru’s lips twitch into a smile as he tugs on your hand, already leading you up the stairs.
“What was that about?” you ask, glancing back down at Shoko’s retreating figure.
“Oh y’know… Shoko being Shoko,” he chuckles with a shrug, but there’s a nervousness to his laugh—something you’ve never heard from him before.
You narrow your eyes playfully, about to ask more, but the view from the top of the balcony cuts off your train of thought—leaving you breathless.
It’s draped in soft, glowing lights, casting a warm amber hue over the garden stretching out below. Elegant vines with autumn-colored leaves weave through the steel railings, and a gentle breeze carries with it the scent of the distant garden flowers—chrysanthemums, marigolds, and asters—a lingering warmth of late summer giving way to autumn.
The night sky sprawls out before you like an infinite canvas—stars twinkling faintly—but it's the stillness and beauty of this shared moment that makes your heart flutter. Then, the first firework shoots up into the air with a soft whistle.
It arcs gracefully against the night sky before erupting into a dazzling cascade of golden sparks, raining down like glittering stardust. You marvel how the garden below transforms into a dreamscape of warm, glowing embers. Then, another follows, this time a burst of deep red. The colors ripple and shimmer, fading into soft blues and purples, mixing like watercolors against the canvas of the night sky.
But as you stand there, entranced by the beauty of the fireworks, you slowly begin to realize that Satoru isn’t watching the sky at all.
He’s watching you.
You shift, turning your attention to him now, and suddenly, you feel strangely nervous at the way he’s looking at you. Your breath hitches as he steps closer, taking your hand into his own. He lifts it to his lips and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles.
“Why aren’t you watching the fireworks?” you murmur.
The sound of the next firework shoots into the sky, cutting the quiet between you and painting the night in a burst of blue. He lowers your hand from his lips and his thumb brushes over your knuckles in a slow, deliberate motion—as if memorizing the feel of you.
“Because they’re not what I want to see tonight.”
The weight of his words makes your heart swell, and the softness in his voice sends a shiver through you—but before you can respond, he reaches into his pocket, and your eyes widen as he pulls out a small velvet box.
Just as he drops to one knee, another firework explodes in the sky behind him, casting a colorful hue of violet and silver over his features.
“y/n…” he smiles steadily, eyes fixed only on you. “I know I mess around a lot, and I don’t always take things as seriously as I should, but this… this is the one thing I’ve never been more sure about in my life.”
Your breath catches as he opens the small velvet box—revealing a ring inside that is nothing short of breathtaking. The centerpiece is a brilliant-cut diamond—flawless, sparkling, and catching the light from the fireworks above—shimmering in a thousand dazzling directions. The diamond is set within a delicate band of platinum, but what makes it truly special is the intricate design surrounding it.
The band curves into an elegant, infinity loop—symbolizing the eternal bond you share. Small diamonds are delicately embedded along the loop, creating a river of light and wrapping around your finger like a never-ending promise. But the Gojo family’s infinity design isn’t just in the band—it’s in the very shape of the setting, which cradles the diamond in a way that feels both secure and limitless, a perfect balance between strength and grace.
It’s more than a ring—it’s a reflection of your love, infinite and unbreakable, meant to last forever.
“I love you,” he whispers. “I’ve loved you from the moment we met, and every day since has been better than the last because you’re by my side. I can’t imagine my life without you, and I don’t want to.”
Your chest tightens and tears begin to well up in your eyes, blurring your vision. As his words sink into your heart, time seems to slow.
“So…” he takes a deep breath, his smile widening, “will you marry me?”
Another firework explodes overhead, filling the sky with shimmering gold and blue, but you barely hear it.
The only thing that matters in this moment is him.
Your tears spill over as you choke out the words, nodding quickly.
“Yes… yes, of course.”
And in that moment, the joy that spreads across his face is radiant—a pure, unfiltered happiness that lights up his entire expression. His hands, normally so steady, tremble ever so slightly as he slips the ring onto your finger.
With the ring in place, Satoru stands, and before you can say a word, he pulls you into his arms—lifting you off your feet and spinning you around in celebration. The sky explodes with bright colors as your shared laughter sings alongside the symphony of lights.
Your face buries into his shoulder as you laugh through the happy tears spilling down your cheeks—overwhelmed by the sheer joy of it all as you cling to him—as if nothing else in the world matters.
“I love you,” you whisper, muffled by his shoulder.
He pulls back just enough to look at you, and his eyes shimmer with emotion. Then, his smile softens, and a thumb comes up to gently brush away a tear still clinging to your cheek.
“I love you too,” he murmurs, “for infinity.”
The words wrap around you like a promise, as real as the ring now on your finger. His lips find yours, and the rest of the world fades away. The fireworks are coming to an end, and while the final bursts fill the sky behind you, painting the horizon in brilliant shades of color—it’s the warmth of Satoru’s arms, his love, and the promise of forever, that truly lights up your world—like none other.
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a/n. i feel like i went through all the emotions writing this fic lol! i was in a very smutty mood, but also in a very fluffy mood 🥰 anyways, this was super fun to create—it's not entirely halloween-esque but i guess it kind of is at the same time? 😛 i do wanna thank my amazing friend @strychnynegirl for sparking all the inspiration and helping me with this 💕 she's amazing and this fic wouldn't exist without her. thanks so much for reading ya'll ✨
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tags: @fushitoru @lovebittenbyevans @genshingeeksworld @myahfig4
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transingthoseformers · 2 years ago
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At least one vehicon took one good look at the Tarn's fanfiction leak, and knew what they had to do; they had to go write the worst but best written fanfic inspired by his.
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