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bxnfire · 3 days ago

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Silver Tongue || Satoru Gojo

✎ synopsis: after losing a bet to geto, gojo has to go get a piercing of geto’s choice, but this was far from a punishment; you were his piercer, and one thing sure leads to another when dealing with someone with a silver tongue like gojo

✎ content/warnings: piercer!reader x gojo, smut, fluff, oral (f. receiving), semi-public, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, masturabation, needles (?), pet names, dirty talk, mutual pining, flirting

✎ a/n: bra i saw this random mf on tiktok with a tongue piercing and decided my beautiful man should have one as well. enjoy <3!

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Geto and Gojo have been friends for a really long time. Their dynamic is a chaotic one, but it works for them just fine. It is not uncommon for the 2 to go out a lot, but what is uncommon is Gojo losing bets. Gojo was cocky, yeah, but he had a reason to be; he was the kind of guy to be good at what he tried his hand at no matter what, often leaving Geto amused by trying to figure out what it was he couldn’t do.

Turns out, Gojo’s biggest enemy was his very own ego. After a long day of doing random physical activities, Geto challenged Gojo to a simple race. Of course, Gojo was fatigued but he let his ego take the best of him, and thus accepted Geto’s challenge.

“But,” Geto added, “if I win, you’re getting a piercing. Of my choice.”

“So then if I win, you’re getting my initials tattooed on your arm,” Gojo said cheekily, trying to think of the stupidest font to request at the tattoo shop.

“You’re so on,” Geto replied. And with that, they had a race. But much to Gojo’s dismay and Geto’s amusement (or rather, amazement?), the former lost.

That is how the pair found themselves at 1 a.m. at the door of the tattoo shop you worked at. You were a great tattoo artist and piercer, but since you were still in college you were often given later shifts, which allowed you to meet interesting characters, this duo being one of them.

You were sitting at the counter working on some new designs when you heard the door open, and once you looked up you made eye contact with the deepest cerulean eyes you had ever seen. Unaware that you were starring, you got startled once the man next to him spoke to you.

“Hey there Y/n, nice to meet ya,” said the black-haired male, looking at your name tag, startling partly because you were in a trance watching the white-haired guy next to him, and partly because his voice was oddly… sultry.

“Hi, whatcha thinking of getting today?” You ask him, eyeing his piercings.

“Well the thing is we’re not here for me today, though I may come back; we’re here for him,” he smiled, gesturing towards the guy that had you in a trance.

“Yeah…. I’m getting a piercing today,” he said, looking deep into your eyes.

You swallow before replying. “So then, what piercing would you like?”

“What’s popular with girls these days?” He says smirking.

The black-haired guy laughs, slapping him in the back. “You’re so dumb,” he manages to get out between laughs.

“Well,” you paused, genuinely trying to answer his question, “I’ve seen a lot of girls go crazy for some eyebrow and nose piercings. You could also get traditional earrings of course, they’re always good starter piercing.”

“I don’t know if I want it to be so apparent though… but I like the eyebrow piercing suggesting,” he responds, deep in thought.

“Not too quick Satoru, remember our bet: I get to choose your piercing,” he cuts quick, looking at Satoru.

“Oh… Bring it on then, I could rock anything,” he laughed, his pride shining through.

“You’re so damn cocky, I’d like to shut you up… actually, yes, I’ll shut you up,” he then turns to you, “he’ll be getting a tongue piercing tonight,” he says, decidedly.

“I hope you’re not a foodie then,” you say amused, catching on the dynamic between the two.

“Suguru,” he cries, “you KNOW this won’t end well.”

“Well that’s part of the point isn’t it?” He smiles softly, his angelic tone just making it funnier.

“Well, I’ll start setting up my station,” you say, looking through a couple of drawers until you find tongue jewelry. “While I set up, pick one of these, I recommend the first 3 at the top, they’re nicer while you’re healing.”

As soon as you leave, Satoru starts looking through the selection of piercings. Pills, dice, even a marijuana leaf, and he giggles, but in the end, he does take up on your recommendation and chooses a simple, silver stud.

“I can’t wait to hear you speak after this,” Geto says.

“Oh shut up,” he replies.

“Ready! Please come over here,” you shout from your station, putting your gloves on.

“Coming!” Said Satoru, and as he started walking Geto followed.

As he sits down on the chair, he shows you the piercing he chose.

“I see you took on my recommendation,” you say looking at him and smiling, and Satoru felt his heart flutter.

“Y-Yeah, I did,” he replied, trying to hide how flustered he was.

“You nervous?” You ask, catching on to his stutters.

“You could say that,” he laughs, happy he could cover it up so easily.

And sure, maybe to you he could, but not to Geto. He quickly caught on the fact that Gojo was flustered because of you. Having known the guy for years, he knew how he reacted to injuries, danger, and even needles, and he never gets flustered, no. He’s also seen him around girls he finds attractive, and while Satoru is able to talk to them, he does get flustered at first. How adorable.

“Yeah, he’s scared alright,” Geto says, teasing Satoru.

“Don’t worry! Tongue piercings aren’t typically the most hurtful ones. Of course, it varies from person to person, but having pierced and heard from several people about them, they’re not terrible,” you say reassuringly.

What an angel, Satoru thinks. Though he’d never admit it to Suguru, he was starting to be glad he got him in this predicament. You were so cute, so sweet trying to make him feel better, and he couldn’t help but notice the piercings and tattoos that adorned your beautiful body. He wondered if there were other masterpieces hidden under your clothes.

Trying not to pry on it too much, he watched you get a marker and come close to him, so close he could smell your sweet scent. Shit, maybe looking at you could be my anesthesia, he thought.

“Alright then! Please take out your tongue, I need to mark the spot where I’ll pierce,” you say.

“Well then,” he says, taking his tongue out. Getting a funny feeling as you mark his skin, he tries not to giggle in fear it’d mess up your work.

You pull away and then put a mirror so he can look at his face. “Do you like how it looks there? Or would you want it someplace else?”

“That looks perfect, let’s do it,” he says.

“Great! Then sit while I get my stuff,” you say.

“What’s your name again?” You ask.

“You can call me Gojo,” he replies.

“Ok Gojo, Take a deep breath in,” you say, and as he does so, you put the needle through his tongue, “then breathe out,” once again, he obediently breathes out, relieved in the little pain he actually felt. This is when you actually put the jewelry in.

“Now I’m just securing the stud. And there ya go, take a look,” you say, bringing the mirror back.

“Wow,” he says, surprised at how much he actually liked the piercing.

“There’s some fun piercings you can put in once it heals, but make sure you’re taking care of it correctly,” you say, and then begin to explain the care process for the piercing.

As you 3 move back out to the checkout counter, you recommend some products to Gojo for whatever he may need. You also say he’s welcome to come back if he feels uncomfortable in any way.

“Or if you’re a busy man, here’s my phone number,” you say boldly, hoping it’s not obvious how attracted you were to him, “let me know if you have any questions as it heals!”

“Thank you Y/n, I’ll let you know if anything happens,” he smiles as he takes the paper with your number, automatically taking out his phone and putting the contact in.

“Alright then, ready to survive off ice cream for a while?” Geto asks.

“Sounds like a sweet deal,” Gojo replies smiling.

“Pleasure to meet you,” you say as they walk out.

“The pleasure was mine sweetheart,” Gojo replies, finding the courage from his new piercing, and luckily for you he turns around, because you’re left as red as a tomato.

As him and Geto walk out, you wonder whether he’ll text you with more than just questions about the piercing. Sheepishly, you go back to your station and clean it up, relishing on the faint smell of Gojo’s cologne that stayed behind.

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While you’re sitting on the train on the home, you get a text from an unknown number:

💬 Unknown: so what did you say helped with swelling again?

💬 Unknown: it’s gojo btw 👅

You smile. As you type up your recommendations and add him to your contacts, admittedly wanting to see him again. So then, conveniently of course, you ask for a contact picture.

💬 You: mind sending me a contact pic?

💬 Gojo 👅: [IMG]

The picture was of him taking his tongue out playfully, showing off the jewelry you had just given him. His cerulean eyes peeked through his round sunglasses, and with that you got flustered yet again, which was ridiculous: to think you had pierced nipples, tattooed in places where sunlight doesn’t quite reach, and you’re flustered over a normal selfie?

💬 Gojo 👅: you did me justice

💬 You: i think any piercing would’ve worked just fine 👀

And on the other side of the screen, it was now Gojo who was flustered at your words. Unknowingly, for the same reason as you, he asked for a contact picture. Bringing out your holder side, you take a selfie from an angle that shows many of your attributes, and Gojo isn’t immune to your charm. As he updates your contact, he can feel the blood rushing to his cheeks… and his dick.

He quickly realizes it was going to be a restless night, or rather, morning? The clock marked 3 o��clock, and whilst the world outside his room was silent, it was easy to fantasize of what it’d be like to have you there with him.

Squeezing his tip through his underwear, he thinks back to your pretty face, so focused and so close to his as you pierced his tongue. He wonders what it’d look like covered in his cum: would you lick it up? Would you clean it with your fingers? Would you make him clean it up for you?

The more he thinks of you, the hornier he gets. Taking his hardened cock out from his underwear, he starts thinking of what he’d do to you. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to see your body before him right now. Is there any piercings he didn’t catch on you having? Tattoos? Would you like him to kiss those on you? Maybe even lick them? You would probably taste so sweet, yeah, as sweet as you smell or as sweet as you sound.

At this point, he’s fisting himself quickly, massaging his balls every now and then, soon to reach his release. He remembers your sweet voice saying his surname, your laugh as you watched him and Suguru’s banter, and your beautiful eyes looking at him. With that, he came all over his hand, deciding he had to see you soon.

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As the days passed, you and Gojo texted more and more. Your conversations always started with a silly question about the piercing from him, and from then on it would range from your favorite subjects to trips you have made and your favorite foods. You found yourself crushing hard on Gojo, taking little notes of the things he liked and wanted to do, and trying to gather up the courage to ask him to hangout.

Lucky for you, he had been feeling the same, except he was bolder than you, and thus, he asked first.

💬 Gojo 👅: y/nnnnn

💬 Gojo 👅: you free tonight??

💬 Gojo 👅: there’s this place i wanted to check out near your job, so maybe before you start your shift we could go?

You were ecstatic. Quickly confirming that you were down, you get dressed and head out for the door. Reaching your meet-up spot, you anxiously wait for Gojo. To calm your nerves down, you scroll through TikTok and find yourself laughing at the stupidest videos. Not noticing a tall presence behind you, Gojo decides to surprise you, crouching down to your level to whisper in your ear.

“What’s so funny, doll?” He asks, completely scaring you.

“Gojo! Dont sneak up on me like that again,” you say, relieved that it’s him and not a weirdo, and he laughs at your scared state.

“But where’s the fun in that?” He asks cheekily, and then he begins walking to the place he wanted to go.

You two chitchat nonstop on the way there. You had nurtured a sweet friendship in the little time you guys had known each other. You really appreciated how funny Gojo was, telling you things that made you wonder just how his mind worked. There truly was never a dull moment between the two of you. The more you knew him, the more into him you became. Sometimes you could feel the tension between the two of you, walking together while your hands brushed against each other, him asking you to check on his piercing often and you having to get so close to his handsome face, and other things like that which gave your stomach butterflies.

After eating at that new restaurant, you suddenly remembered that Gojo’s piercing was now fully healed, and knowing his spontaneous nature, you suggested that he get it changed, just to switch it up a bit.

“Really? What would you suggest, you’re the professional after all,” he says while smiling at you.

“Well, we could go back to the shop and I could show you a couple of cool ones, we got a new batch this week,” you replied, thinking already of which he would like.

“Sounds like a plan,” he says, and after that you two head into the store.

It wasn’t open on Mondays, but given that your manager really trusted you, you had a copy of the keys to the store. Rushing into the shop before other people noticed, you and Gojo get settled in the quiet store. As he waits there looking around the things you had on display, you look for the drawer with tongue jewelry once again, reminding you of the night you met. Smiling softly to yourself, you pull a drawer out and bring it on the counter, the noise of you setting it down catching Gojo’s attention.

He steps closer to it and starts looking through the collection you have. Giggling once he reached the marijuana one again, he asks for the one you like most.

“Well, if I’m being honest the one you have right now is one of my favorite, you can never go wrong with a traditional silver stud. Now, I remember you wanted something to impress girls yeah?” You ask jokingly, and he blushes a little at the fact that you remembered him telling you that when you met.

“In that case, then you should definitely check this one out,” you say as you point to one that looked sort of like a hammer.

“What’s special about that one? It kind of looks like the pill one you got over there,” he asks curiously.

“While this one may look like just a little “pill” to you, it is a vibrator piercing,” you say a little flustered, realizing how intimate it was after you said it out loud.

“Oh,” he says, now looking intently at you.

“Yeah, I don’t really know if you’re an eater or anything,” you joke, trying to bring up the mood, but you notice it only made the atmosphere grow thicker, so you continue, “but this one can really take things up a notch when you’re down there hehe.”

“I’d like to say my head game is strong,” he says suggestively, “but I sure would like to see how this would make things better.”

“I could change it for you if you’d like! Or I could walk you through the process so you know what to do in the future whenever you wanna change it yourself, but trust me when I say, any girl you’re with will be very lucky,” you say boldly, hoping he realizes the piercing is not what they’d be lucky about.

“I think I’ll let you do it this time doll, I wouldn’t want to mess it up,” he says, knowing he’d be too distracted thinking of what he’d like to do to you with this very piercing if you would so desire.

“Well then,” you say, growing flustered as you get near your station, feeling him come close behind. You set him down, and ask him to open his mouth, something that feels oddly intimate considering the fact that you’re alone with him, with no one walking in, and he’s opening his mouth with your face so close to his, to make matters worse, his enticing eyes looking right at you.

You get to work in changing the jewelry as you explain to him how it works. “So, to turn it on, you need to tighten up the little ball at the bottom,” you say as you demonstrate, and then he gets a funny feeling on his tongue as he feels the metal vibrate through.

“And turn it off?” He asks, trying his best not to laugh.

“For that just unscrew it a little,” you demonstrate yet again, and he feels the vibrations coming to a stop.

Feeling the tension between you two, he decides to take it up a notch and test the waters. “I’d love to try it to its full extent,” he says, knowing that the conversation would go back to a more explicit topic.

“I’m telling you, your girl will be satisfied,” you reply, trying not to pry too much on it in fear he’ll see how badly you wanted him to try it on you.

“Well, I don’t really have a girl right now,” he says, not missing the relief and happiness that comes to your face right as he says it, “but there is someone I’d like to try it on.”

“And who might that be?” You ask, almost breathless.

“Take a guess,” he says, not giving you a chance to respond as he’s bringing your face to his and kissing you right on the spot.

After the initial shock of Gojo’s actions and the fact that your very own crush is kissing you, you let your impulse take over as you put your hand on his neck and bring him closer. You lick his lower lip asking for permission to go in, something that he eagerly grants, and your tongues find a rhythm that leaves you both breathless, your cunt feeling something whenever your tongue graced his piercing.

“So, were you able to figure it out?” He asks cheekily, still blushing from the fact that you kissed back and lord, were you a good fucking kisser.

“No, I don’t think you were very clear,” you reply, the fact that you matched his energy doing things to Gojo.

You pull him in this time, but he took his initiative somewhere else. He sat you on his lap and started caressing your sides, not daring to touch your bare skin no matter how much he wanted to, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

On the other hand, it was getting harder and harder for you to play it cool in front of him. Feeling his big, veiny hands run all over you was making you ache for so much more. Not daring to say a word, you put your hands over his and guide them where you want them to be. You take one of them under your shirt all the way to your boobs, and in doing so you feel him moan into your kiss. Growing more confident at his reaction, you take the other one down to your ass, letting him squeeze to his desire.

He understands what you need want him to do and he starts gently fondling your boobs, switching back and forth between the two, as his other hand guided your movements to grind on his hardened dick.

You start moaning into his lips, and he abandons your lips to go on a trip down your face to your ears and your neck with his own. Finding a spot that seemed to have the greatest reaction out of you, he chooses to mark it for reference, just a little hickey to guide him later on, and one to let others now that you were his.

“This is your weak spot, isn’t it?” He says, relishing on the way you quiver at the feel of his breath on your skin.

“T-That’s one of ‘em,” you respond, giving in to your lust entirely, “but can ya find the o-others?” You ask, wanting to see how far he’ll go.

“Such a dirty doll,” he says, feeling his dick throb at your words, “of course I can find the others, I know you’ll guide me to them.”

Breaking away from you to take your shirt off, you shiver as you feel the cold hit your skin. Your nipples hardened and it was apparent through your bra, which made Gojo hungry for more of you. Taking it off as he plants a sweet kiss on your lips, he licks his way down until he reaches your nipples, and starts licking them and then blowing to keep them hard, something that had you grinding harder and harder on his boner.

“Can I try my piercing on you doll? Please? I need to know how you taste,” he says, drunk on your body, “I’m craving the sweetest treat of all.”

As he says that, his hands find his way to your underwear, and over them he plays with your wet pussy. Circling around your cunt as you whine for more, he takes your pants and panties off, letting him take a look at your naked body.

Admiring it like a master piece, Gojo stood what he’s doing altogether just to get a good look at you, wondering how concerning it’d be if he got this tattooed sometime. You squirm under his stare, and yet, you don’t feel the impulse to cover up or turn any of the lights off, if anything, you wanted him to look at you like you’re the last meal he’s about to eat.

And a feast is exactly what he had. Not even 2 minutes after admiring you like a goddess, he tightened the piercing and started flat-tongued to lick up and down your pussy. Moans quickly filled the room, the wet sensation of his tongue combined with the vibrations all over your pussy quickly overstimulating you. He puts his fingers in your mouth as his tongue finds its way to your clit. Lapping at it with the vibrating piece on his tongue sent shocks through you, making you buck your hips into him desperate to feel more than just his tongue on you. Retrieving the fingers you licked from your mouth, he put one finger inside of you, surprised at how easily it slipped into you.

“You’re so fucking warm and wet,” he says as he feels you on his finger, dick throbbing just thinking of how good it’d feel like once it wasn’t just his fingers inside of you.

Fingering you as he kept his tongue pressed to your clit, your eyes rolled back in pure pleasure, your moans now louder than they were before, sounding even more lewd combined with the sound of your wet pussy taking in Gojo’s fingers and his tongue slurping and keeping in contact with your clit.

With his free hand, he caressed your thigh gently, which seemed almost ironic giving how relentlessly he was pumping his fingers into you, how mercilessly he was working his tongue to please your clit.

You couldn’t take it for much longer. You felt your climax building up in your stomach, and just before you could tell him, you were splashing your juices all over his hand and face, leaving him shocked for a moment.

Quickly realizing what had just happened, he happily licks your cunt clean before cleaning his own fingers up, happily realizing that you’re even sweeter he thought you’d be.

“Don’t think I’m done with you just yet,” he says, getting up to undress quickly as he was eager to fuck you.

Coming out of your post-orgasm bliss, you notice how veiny his long, thick shaft is. Feeling your cunt clench on nothing just waiting for him to come inside of you, a curious hand reached for his dick and gave it a few stokes, filling your fingers get precum on them. Hearing his breath hitch, you quicken the pace of your strokes. This activated that dirty mouth he had on him, making you think that he’s nothing but a silver tongue the way he effectively had you right at his mercy.

“F-Fuck doll, your h-hand feels s-so good,” he moans. “Y-You h-have no idea what y-you do to me.”

You keep going like this for a little bit, until he grabs your hand and kisses it while looking right at you.

“I would love to cum off your hands alone someday,” he says, “but today is not that day, I need to be in your sweet pussy doll, can I?” He asks, placing another kiss, this time in the inside of your wrist.

“Y-Yes please Gojo,” you whine.

“Say my name doll,” he says.

“Gojo,” you respond.

He positions himself right at your entrance. Slapping his dick in your pussy, he teases both you and himself while his pride toys with you until you call him by his name.

“Wrong,” he says, now slapping a bit quicker, the lewd sound of skin slapping combinted with your moans filling the room. “It’s Satoru,” he says, trying his damned best not to moan at the pleasure.

Seeing you lost in that same agonizing pleasure, he dives right into your pussy, touching your cervix in that first stroke, earning a yelp from you. Wanting to keep his little game going, he kept talking. “C’mon doll, it’s easy, it’s S-A-T-O-R-U,” he panted, a stroke for every letter as he spelled out his name.

“S-Satoru! I-It’s so big!” You said, struggling to adjust to his length with how recklessly he pounded into you right off the bat.

“You can take it doll I know you must have a high pain tolerance,” he said, focusing a little too much on the feeling of your warm, soaked pussy, which squeezed his cock so deliciously, he knew he wouldn’t last long.

You, on the other hand, were in a whole other world. Satoru quite literally was fucking you silly, being already stimulated on your orgasm from not too long ago, his big fucking dick just had reached the spot you struggled to reach even with your toys. Blabbering some nonsense amidst of saying his name like a broken record, you feel your orgasm building up once again, something that Satoru quickly catches on to from the way your pussy was gripping his dick.

“You’re so tight doll, you’re going to milk me dry,” he says in between pants, “fuck, can I cum inside?” He asks while looking right at you, doubting how effective he’d be trying to pull out right now, and in all honesty, he was so lost on how good you felt he wanted to paint your insides, leave his mark, make you his.

“Y-Yes!” You do your best to say, finding it hard to get the words out. It doesn’t take long from here for you both to finish, Gojo making a mess of your pussy as by the time he pulls out both of your juices and his and intermixed coming out of you. He fingers you once more, this time to help you take his cum out. He then carries you bridal style to the bathroom so you can pee, in the meantime finding some paper towels to clean himself up and a little bit of the mess you left behind.

When you came back, he carries you back to where you had just fucked, and lays you on top of him to cool off together after such steamy sex you had.

“So… did you like the outcome?” You ask giggly, breaking the ice.

“Fuck, if getting piercings means I’ll get to be with you more then so be it. I’m coming every week for a new one,” he says, genuinely thinking of what he could get next.

“No need, I’d make time for you even if you didn’t get any more piercings,” you say, blushing at your little confession, immediately putting your head on the crook of his neck out of embarrassment.

He pulls you back, forcing you to look at him. You’re blushing, hair messy, and eyes slightly glossy after the intense moment you just had, and you’d never looked more beautiful in his mind. Smiling like an idiot after just looking at you, he says “you’re truly just as sweet as you taste,” and with that, you blush even harder.

“So then, will you be my girlfriend?” He asks suddenly, leaving you dumbfounded.

“I know it’s a bit of a rush and maybe not as romantic as I would’ve liked for it to be,” he admits, “but I must confess that I’ve had a thing for you since we met, and I couldn’t live with myself if you weren’t mine after today.”

You’re blushing so hard right now, but also matching his love fool smile, happy that he liked you back. “Of course, Satoru, I’ll be yours, but only if you’ll promise you’ll be mine,” you say, snuggling up to him and looking deep into those beautiful eyes.

“Oh doll, I have been yours ever since you merely looked at me,” he says, then he kisses you gently, you can feel his love through this kiss, which unlike the others you just shared, this one was filled with pure love and admiration, and much like the other kisses he had given you today, these were addicting, immediately making you ache for more.

For the rest of the night, you guys just stayed there talking to each other about anything and everything. Making silly plans for the future, confessing the way you both had been pining for each other, and just laughing at how funny this all was, how crazy it was that it took you two less to have sex than to confess to each other, but, it was just as meaningful nonetheless.

Going back to your apartment, you two settled in your bed, ready to sleep after such intense night. There, basking in his warmth, you realized just how lucky and happy you were to have your job, because after all, if it weren’t for that you wouldn’t have met Satoru, the boy of your dreams, and next to you, Satoru was thinking just that, and even if he’d never admit it to Geto, he was so grateful to have lost that bet and swallow up his pride, because now, he had something truly worth boasting about: you. Who would’ve thought a piercing would change his life? Certainly, he wouldn’t have guessed it, but at the same time, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #fluff #geto suguru #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk fic #girls with piercings #pierced #tongue piercing #satoru smut #gojo smut #smut #jjk fluff

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gatorbites-imagines · 2 days ago

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Kinktober day 29

Din Djarin + Excessive Cum

Hey yall, super late to finish kinktober, hows everyone doing? Changing my major has been a lot more work than I imagined besides usual classwork, so its only now ive had any free time to write. But I still want to finish kinktober, even if its late.

On the shorter side, since I just wanted to finish kinktober.

Kinktober 2024 masterlist

Din Djarin let out a shaky whine, soft and quiet enough that the vocoder of his helmet almost didn’t pick it up. He was never one to make much noise, even when you guys had been apart for long when bounties were drawn out, or when you were busy in return.

The only way you could truly tell it had been too long, was the way Din couldn’t control his hips, and how they jolted and twitched into your hands or mouth. Hed jump and jolt like a rabbit, giving short and fast thrusts of his hips as if he couldn’t control himself or his reactions.

He was always so full after you two had been apart. Din never saw a reason to get off on his own. There hadn’t been much need for it before you two got together, when all that mattered to him was bringing credits back to the clan. And after you two became an item, Din only felt it made sense to allow you to be the one to bring him that pleasure.

Hed never known what he was missing as your hands twisted and pulled at his weeping sensitive cock for the first time, his balls so full you almost cooed at him in pity. It must have been so uncomfortable to be so backed up, to be so incredibly full and heavy, ready to blow from the smallest of touches.

The lack of skin on skin contact Din experienced only added onto it, making him even more sensitive as he oozed and dripped in your hands. It seemed as if his body was trying to catch up to the many years of neglect he had given it, now that it knew you were there to empty his balls when they got too full.

It left Din desperate and panting whenever you got your hands on his dick, after you would remove as little armor as possible to get to his crotch or ass. Sometimes he felt like an animal, his jaw hanging open as his eyes glazed over under his helmet. The Mandalorian felt as if you knew the exact expression on his face, even if you couldn’t see it, making him pulse even more.

You were always shocked at just how much Din could cum, no matter how many times you tried to empty him out or milk him like some kind of cattle. It only ever resulted in Dins noises getting so loud that his vocoder crackled at the volume and pitch, his legs shaking as he tried his damnest to fuck into your grip, no matter how sensitive he was.

There was so much to catch, so much to swallow, there had even been a few times where the sudden gush of spend had made some of it shoot out your nose, only making Din moan even louder when he saw it.

it shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone that someone who never got down and dirty with another being, had a lot of fantasies, and luckily for Din, you were willing to try out most of them, even if that meant allowing Din to stand or kneel above you and spill his seed all over you until he was drained dry.

It was attractive, sure, but also made a real mess. Lucky for the both of you the ship you spent most of your time on had the ability to air out, or else the entire thing would reek of your intimacy. And the closet full of cleaning supplies was restocked regularly. In the end you just liked making Din feel good, and you couldn’t blame him for shooting like a firehose. At least it was hot.

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noirvedette · 1 day ago

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Chapter Two: The Union of Two

Satoru Gojo x Reader. (Royalty AU Series)

Synopsis: Wanting the best for your kingdom, you accept the marriage proposal sent by the Gojo empire to marry the new Emperor Satoru Gojo. What you don't know is that he has been yearning for you since he came to know of your existence and is determined to make you reciprocate his affections. How far will he go to earn your love? Series Warnings: Explicit language, smut, slight angst, acts of violence(not between the main characters), war. Author's Note: A longer chapter this time! Please let me know whether you enjoy it this way or if you'd prefer shorter chapters. Writing this during exam season so be prepared for irregular updates :) Word Count: 2.5k words

Today is the day. You and Satoru shall finally meet.

If things go as Satoru planned, you may marry each other in a few months.

To him, it all feels like a dream. Like a possibility of paradise.

He wondered what you would be like once you arrived, whether your smile would still be the reason behind his blushed cheeks, whether the calming cadence of your voice would still send shivers down his spine.

Whether you would still affect him the way you had five years ago.

He recalled every time he ranted about you to Jaeyun, telling him about how you captivated him to no end, squirming with embarrassment as the King jokingly called him pathetic for the nth time that day.

His heart started palpitating, threatening to abandon its place in his chest in favor of finding its way to you.

As he waited in his study, his mind went into overdrive.

What if you don't like him? What if you think that you are not right for each other? What if-

"Your Majesty." The Emperor's musings were interrupted by the voice of his secretary.

"Yes? What is it?" He inquired, exhaling a bated breath.

"The royal family of Aveloria have arrived." The secretary informed. "They await you in the salon."

With a nod and a small prayer recited in his mind, he strode to the salon.

Wow, you thought to yourself.

Satoru Gojo is a good-looking man.

Your mind was void of thoughts for the first few seconds within which he stepped into the room and interacted with your parents.

You took in his appearance—from azure eyes to hair that resembled the clouds in the sky—and it couldn't be denied that his appearance was nothing short of captivating.

The Emperor looked a little contrasting from when you saw him at King Jaeyun's coronation. Now, his features seemed more grown up, his jawline more defined and his eyes slightly sharper.

Eyes that were now looking at you, you realized.

"Your Majesty," You softly smiled at him, your hand outstretched for him to shake. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"The pleasure is all mine, Princess _____." Satoru smiled back, engulfing your hand in his. "And please, call me Satoru."

"Satoru it is." You declared, your hand still in his. Your heart sped up due to the physical contact.

You watched as he shifted his grasp and softly kissed the back of your hand. You felt your face warm up at the gentle feel of his lips on your skin.

God, he even smells good, you think as the scent of citrus and cedarwood surrounds you.

Soon after, his family joined as well. His mother, Magdalena, and his sister, Isadora, whom you were already well acquainted with, were nothing short of welcoming.

Conversation ensued as everybody took a seat Your parents discussed the statuses of your respective territories and other miscellaneous topics, but you chose to remain quiet, observe, and sip your tea in between, taking in Satoru's responses and body language.

He was nothing like the version of Satoru that you heard about. Nothing like the cold, egomaniacal tyrant that you've heard others lament about via gossip.

He seemed... amicable? He answered your parents' queries with courtesy and posed thoughtful questions to indicate that he was attentive as well. He even asked your brother about the younger one's hobbies and interests.

It was the bare minimum, and yet it brought a smile to your face.

Maybe marrying him would prove to be enjoyable after all.

Once the conversation began to meet its end, teacups and sandwich platters once filled now almost, empty, you collectively decided that it was time for you and Satoru to have a conversation in private. You followed him into the art gallery and watched him shut the door before facing you.

Feeling overwhelmed by nerves, you turned to look at the paintings.

A particular piece caught your eye, so you went toward it, admiring the landscape of the shell-pink tulip field before you. 'The Magnificence of Naturality,' the name of the artwork read.

"I take it that you like this one." You felt the warmth of his presence as his saccharine voice slightly soothed you. "Are tulips your favorite flowers?"

"Tulips are beautiful, I will admit, but hyacinths have to be my favorite." You smiled at him, your fingers playing with the sleeve of your dress to direct your anxiety elsewhere. "Which painting here is your favorite?"

"This one here." He pointed to the one beside the tulip field, directing your attention to it. "It's called 'Chasm in my Soul'."

In the aforementioned painting, a man and woman are at a dock, presumably just married, as they are in wedding attire. They appear to be slow dancing, with another man not too far away playing the violin.

A sigh of awe left your lips as you took in the intricacies of the painting. From the ripples in the water to the lace detailing in the bride's wedding dress, little was left to be desired.

"I understand why you like it so much." You turned to look at him, watching as he stared at the painting in admiration. "It's beautiful."

"It is." He smiles at you before decidedly changing the subject.

"I know that our previous interactions have been brief, but I really admire you, Princess _____." He began quietly, clearing his throat. "I genuinely hope that we can find happiness together."

He looked flustered, almost shy in your presence. You had no words. No idea how to respond to such passionate words.

"As far as I know you, Satoru, you seem nice," You started. "But I think we need to get to know each other more before making a decision."

"Of course! I agree completely." A grin bloomed on his lips. "We have much to learn about each other."

"I'll ask the first question," You took the lead, turning to look at the artwork once more "Why is this painting your favorite?"

"The shared happiness between the newlyweds is so heartfelt. It's a love that's quite rare to encounter," He began, his expression turning into one of fondness. "You can discern the comfort and solace they find in each other due to the artist's mastery."

"You were the last person I thought would be a romantic, Satoru." You teased, smirking up at him.

"I could show you just how romantic I can be, Princess." He smirked back, moving closer to you.

He's flirting with you. You barely maintain your composure while trying to muster up a response.

"Maybe I would like that." You reply, slightly breathless.

"Accept the proposal and I promise you, I will." His eyes darted to your lips for a quick second before meeting yours again.

"I need to think about it," You teased once more, an easy grin twitching on your lips. "I hope you'll be patient."

"I'll be anything you want, _____." Unlike you, he was serious, his words containing an intensity that wasn't previously present. "I'll wait for as long as you want me to."

His expression was one of determination, ready to wait for you as long as you wanted him to.

Little did the Emperor know that he wouldn't have to wait too long at all.

You had already made your decision.

Once you returned from the art gallery with Satoru, you exchanged pleasantries with his family to end the night, his mother whispering in your ear about wanting you to be her daughter-in-law, making you blush in the process. He pretended not to hear her, choosing to believe that the surge of warmth he felt was completely unrelated to her hushed words.

That night, once you returned to the palace, you quickly bid good night to your family as you were tired due to the day's festivities. You sluggishly walked into your chamber, leaning your forehead on the door once you clicked it shut.

A gasp left your lips as you turned around.

There in the middle of your room stood a familiar landscape of a tulip field. 'The Magnificence of Naturality' glinted in the lighting of your room, along with a bouquet of hyacinths placed on your nightstand. A smile bloomed on your face as you noticed a note on the bouquet.

'The hue of these flowers may be beautiful, nevertheless, nothing will be as alluring as you always have been.'

The Emperor is an abundance of surprises, it seemed.

[SEVEN MONTHS LATER]

The wedding would be the very epitome of royal luxury.

It was to take place within the ceremonial cathedral, every crevice of the building embellished in burgundy and gold accents.

The general public was elated to hear the announcement regarding your wedding. Others mused upon what the union between two extremely powerful nations would result in.

You stood in the dressing room, staring at your satin dress in the mirror, admiring the corset bodice and flowy skirt. The jewels in your crown glistened in the natural light. A few minutes remained before the procession would begin.

Needless to say, you were trepidatious.

This moment didn't feel real. Nothing about this whole ordeal felt real.

In a few hours, you would be married to an Emperor. A very influential one at that.

Within the few months between the confirmation and the actual wedding, you rendezvoused with Satoru many more times. He treated you to elaborate dinners, took you to explore his land, bought you all the best street food, and gave you an opportunity to mingle with his citizens who would regard you as the Empress.

By the time you were done recounting all the experiences you've had with Satoru in these few months, a dazed smile formed on your lips.

There was a knock on the door, followed by Isadora walking into the room. "Nervous?"

"A little." You released a shaky breath.

There's nothing to be worried about, _____." She comforted you, noticing your hands slightly trembling. "We're all here for you, okay? This is a joyous occasion, my dear. Cherish it."

"I will." A nervous laugh left your lips, making her chuckle in return.

She nodded towards the door and then looked back at you. "Shall we?"

You responded with a curt nod, took her hand, and followed her out of the room and into your chariot.

Into your future.

Clad in his military attire and regalia, Satoru stood at the altar awaiting his bride-to-be.

He wiped off the sweat on his hands for the nth time that day, the cold temperature doing nothing to calm the heat within.

His mother sat in the front pew and smiled at the sight of him so anxious as Jaeyun tried to make him relax.

Suddenly, the crowd went silent, announcing your arrival. The doors to the cathedral slowly opened and you came into his view.

Satoru had never looked more in awe in all twenty-two years of existence.

No man will ever be as fortunate as me, he thought to himself.

You looked enchanting.

You maintained eye contact with him, a soft smile gracing your features as the long, dramatic train of your dress flowed behind.

You stopped and turned to bow down to his family and yours, sending Heeseung a teasing smile once you noticed the tears in his eyes.

The priest then began the ceremony, blessing your marriage with unity and prosperity.

You exchanged glances with Satoru now and then, returning his grin with your own each time until it was time to exchange your vows.

You placed your hands in his own as the ring-bearer found his place beside the both of you.

"I, Satoru Gojo, take thee, _____ Amiria, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth."

With that, Satoru slipped the intricate gold ring onto your finger, his engraved initials catching your eye.

"I, _____ Amiria, take thee, Satoru Gojo, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth."

You smiled at each other as you slipped an identical gold ring onto his finger, your grins widening as you took note of your initials on the wedding band.

The priest then confirmed and blessed the wedding once more, deeming you married. You could hear the cheers of the crowd that had amassed on the church grounds, congratulations being hollered in unison by the people outside.

Soon, the guests started to file out of the cathedral to make their way to the private reception.

You and Satoru, however, began climbing the stairs to the third floor of the church within which the balcony was located.

There, you would make your first public appearance as a couple, greeting and thanking the crowd for their celebrating your union.

The public appearance also entailed sharing your first kiss.

You tried not to think about it too much and instead, tried to live in the moment, deciding to focus on your hand in Satoru's.

Once the doors to the balcony opened, the both of you walked to the front, waving at the crowd with your unoccupied hands.

The cheers and happiness that emanated from the crowd were positively overwhelming, and Satoru could tell. To lessen your nerves, he drew circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, effectively soothing you.

You turned to face Satoru as he did the same. He cupped your face with one hand as you placed yours on his shoulders.

"It's just you and me, okay?" He gently smiled at you as you nodded. "Just you and me."

Two heartbeats later, his lips met yours.

The sound of the crowd cheering melted into the background as you kissed. It was gentle, teasing even, and you could feel each other smiling in your moment of passion.

Once you pulled away, you mind was hazy. You felt your face burning up as the cheers got substantially louder. You turned to wave at the crowd once more.

In the enclosed area where your family stood, you found Heeseung discreetly pretending to vomit, coaxing a laugh out of you.

Once the final goodbyes were said, the departing procession began.

You and Satoru climbed into your shared chariot, thus marking the beginning of the trip for your honeymoon to Damona Isles, a tropical island located in the south of Aveloria.

Taglist(open): @baepsays @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee @iamrgo To join the tag list: Send an ask ♡

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst #gojo satoru smut

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domm1etae · 1 day ago

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Hello!! If requests are still open can I ask for a Seonghwa/reader office fic? Ever since I've found that one office asmr video he did I can't stop thinking about it 😭

Overtime Attraction

seonghwa x reader

oneshot | mdni

2.5k

Y/N’s strict, no-nonsense boss Seonghwa calls them in for a late-night “work session” that quickly turns into way more than just project revisions

nsfw tags under

readers gender not specif. , top seonghwa, boss/employee, workplace tension, power dynamics, praise kink, slow burn, buildup, desk sex, possessive seonghwa, tension release, passionate make-out, teasing, thigh touching, mutual pining, eye contact, unguarded moments, lap straddling, finger teasing, deep kissing, after-hours intimacy, needy touches

Y/N hurried down the marble hallway, heels clicking in sync with the beat of the clock ticking on the wall. It was 8:59, and every second mattered when it came to Park Seonghwa. As their boss, he was notorious for his unwavering punctuality and no-nonsense attitude. Nothing frustrated him more than tardiness, and Y/N had been on the receiving end of his reprimands enough times to know they didn’t want to push his patience any further.

Sliding into their desk just as the clock struck nine, Y/N let out a small sigh of relief. But the relief was short-lived. Seonghwa’s office door opened, and he stepped out with his usual commanding presence. He scanned the room, his sharp gaze briefly landing on Y/N, and for a moment, they could feel their pulse race.

“Team meeting in the conference room. Now,” he announced, his tone clipped and direct. No unnecessary pleasantries. Just business as always.

Y/N grabbed their notebook, gathering themselves before following him. As they settled into their usual seat, they couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves. This project was crucial, and Seonghwa had been working them all hard to ensure everything went perfectly. His expectations were high, and they didn’t want to be the one who let the team down.

Seonghwa took his seat at the head of the table, flipping through his notes with focused precision. He went over every aspect of the project, analyzing each detail and making it clear exactly what he wanted. His calm, authoritative tone filled the room, and Y/N found themselves hyper-aware of every word, jotting down notes to ensure they wouldn’t miss a thing. But despite their efforts, Seonghwa’s expression remained as unreadable as ever.

At the end of the meeting, as everyone else began packing up to leave, Seonghwa’s gaze fell on Y/N. He raised an eyebrow, his face as composed as always.

“Y/N, stay behind a moment.”

Y/N felt their stomach tighten with a mix of anticipation and dread. Had they made a mistake? They waited as the room emptied, glancing up at Seonghwa as he watched everyone file out. Once the door closed, he leaned back, his fingers steepled in thought.

“There’s a section in your report from last night that has some errors,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. “Some critical data was left out. I’ll need to go over it with you later to make sure it’s fixed before tomorrow.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a pang of embarrassment. They’d spent hours on that report, meticulously checking each line, but evidently, it hadn’t been enough to meet his standards. “Of course, sir. I’m really sorry about the oversight—I thought I’d gotten everything.”

Seonghwa’s gaze softened, but only slightly. “I know you worked hard, and I appreciate the effort. But my standards are high for a reason.” He glanced at his watch. “I have meetings the rest of the day, so we’ll handle this tonight after hours. Make sure you’re available.”

Y/N’s heart skipped at the idea of being alone in the office with Seonghwa, especially given the tension that had been building between them over the past few weeks. There was something about him—his intense focus, his precision—that made it hard not to be captivated by him. And though they’d never admit it, the idea of a private meeting with him was thrilling.

“Understood,” they replied, maintaining their composure despite the rush of anticipation.

Throughout the day, Y/N worked tirelessly to finish other tasks while nervously glancing at the clock. The office gradually emptied, and by 7 PM, they and Seonghwa were the only ones left. As the last few coworkers waved goodbye, Seonghwa finally emerged from his office, his expression as composed as ever.

“Y/N,” he called, gesturing for them to follow him. They stood up, clutching their notes and laptop, and walked into his office, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement settle over them as he closed the door behind them.

He sat down across from them, pulling up the document on his computer. “Let’s start from the top,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact as he scanned through the lines. They worked through the report, his voice low and steady as he pointed out each section that needed correction.

But as the minutes ticked by, the air between them grew more charged. Every time his hand brushed over the mouse, or his shoulder accidentally brushed theirs, Y/N felt their heart skip a beat. His closeness was almost dizzying, and the usual stoic, unbreakable mask he wore seemed to falter slightly as they moved through the corrections together.

At one point, as they both reached for the same section on the screen, their hands met, lingering longer than necessary. Y/N looked up, catching the flicker of something deeper in his gaze—a hint of warmth, of something that wasn’t entirely professional. His fingers lingered on theirs, and he didn’t pull away.

Seonghwa cleared his throat, finally releasing their hand. But his gaze remained intense, locked on them with an unreadable expression. “Y/N,” he began, his voice lower than before, carrying a hint of vulnerability. “I… don’t usually let things like this happen.”

Y/N’s heart pounded. “Me neither,” they whispered, barely able to find their voice. There was something raw in his expression, something they hadn’t seen before. And in that moment, the weight of his controlled, disciplined exterior finally broke.

He leaned forward, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from their face. “You’ve been working so hard,” he murmured, his fingers grazing their cheek with surprising tenderness. “But I think there’s been something between us for a while now.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, and before they could respond, he closed the distance between them, his lips brushing softly against theirs. The kiss was gentle at first, almost cautious, as if testing the waters. But as they melted into his touch, his grip on their waist tightened, pulling them closer. His strict, measured demeanor fell away, replaced by a passion that left them breathless.

Seonghwa lifted them onto his desk, his hands exploring with a newfound freedom that left them shivering. He whispered praise, his words quiet and reverent, as if he were savoring each moment. “I’ve wanted this for longer than I should admit,” he murmured against their skin, his voice thick with desire.

Y/N wrapped their arms around his neck, pulling him closer, their own restraint slipping away. The air was charged, heavy with everything unspoken between them.

Seonghwa’s lips brushed against Y/N’s, deepening the kiss as his hands found their waist, pulling them flush against him. Y/N’s legs shifted, one knee rising as they positioned themselves on his lap, their skirt hiking up as they straddled him. A low sound rumbled from his chest, sending a shiver down Y/N’s spine as his fingers traced circles on their thighs.

“Y/N…” Seonghwa’s breath ghosted over their lips, his voice thick with a want he had carefully kept buried until now. “You… have no idea…”

Y/N’s fingers traced up to his tie, tugging it slightly, silently urging him closer. He let out a soft groan, pressing his hips forward so they could feel the evidence of his own need. His hands traveled up their sides, grazing over the fabric of their blouse, his touch just shy of indulgent.

“More,” Y/N whispered, the word escaping them in a needy breath. They felt their pulse quicken as his hands finally traveled to cup their face, his thumb brushing softly over their bottom lip before trailing down, brushing over the sensitive spot at the base of their neck.

A sly smile played on Seonghwa’s lips as he watched their reactions, reveling in every hitch of their breath and the faint flush on their cheeks. “Oh, you want more?” His voice held a note of control, deep and rich, as if he was savoring each moment of their unraveling.

“Yes…” they murmured, and he raised an eyebrow, his hands sliding back down to grip their waist firmly. They gasped softly as he lifted them onto his desk, his expression darkening as he took in the sight of them, legs spread just enough to reveal the hint of lace at the edge of their skirt.

He leaned in, capturing their lips again, a little rougher this time, his gloved hand reaching to cradle their cheek while his other hand trailed to their thigh, inching upward with a slow deliberateness. Each kiss became more intense, more consuming, until they felt dizzy with need. His thumb traced small circles on the bare skin just below the hem of their skirt, his lips moving to trail down their neck, nibbling softly as he went.

Y/N’s hands clutched the back of his blazer, pulling him close as he teased them, letting out a quiet whimper as his hand finally ventured to the edge of their underwear. “Seonghwa, please…”

He smiled against their skin, his breath warm as he whispered, “Shh, we’re not alone yet. Do you really want someone to hear?” But despite his caution, his thumb pressed into them through the fabric, earning a muffled gasp from Y/N as they bit their lip to keep quiet.

"Good. Just like that,” he murmured, his voice heavy with approval, as he toyed with them, keeping the touch just light enough to drive them wild with need. “Be good for me, and I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

Unable to contain their need any longer, they pressed their hips up to meet his touch, their body aching for more as he continued to tease, his fingers tracing soft circles around their most sensitive spot, still separated by just a thin layer of fabric. His control, his restraint, was maddening, and he relished every second of watching them unravel under his touch.

With his other hand still steady on their cheek, he finally whispered against their lips, “Hold on to me, Y/N.”

Seonghwa’s voice was steady and sure, like he was holding the reins even as the world tilted beneath them both. Y/N’s pulse quickened, their hands clutching his shoulders, fingers digging into the firm line of his back. His words echoed in their mind—Hold on to me. They did as he commanded, wrapping their legs around his waist, drawing him closer still, as he continued his slow, torturous exploration.

His fingers traced the waistband of their underwear, skimming over their skin just enough to leave a tingling path. He maintained eye contact, a look of both mischief and fierce intent in his gaze, as if savoring the power he held in their shared secret, here, alone in his office after hours. Y/N was panting softly, struggling to keep quiet even as their restraint unraveled under his measured, relentless touch.

Seonghwa’s lips met the edge of their jawline, and he brushed his nose along their cheek, lingering by their ear. His whisper was barely audible, but it sent a shiver down their spine. “You’re so beautiful like this, Y/N,” he murmured. “So responsive… so ready for me.”

Y/N’s head tilted back, giving him access to the curve of their neck, and he didn’t waste the opportunity. His lips trailed down, placing open-mouthed kisses along their throat, teeth grazing just enough to leave a whisper of pressure before he soothed each spot with his tongue. His hand slid up their thigh, and this time, he didn’t stop at the edge of their underwear. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric, finding their center, slick and warm with anticipation.

A shaky breath escaped Y/N as his fingers began to move, slow and sure, teasing and tracing over every sensitive spot he discovered. Y/N’s hands found his tie again, tugging at it reflexively as their head fell back, eyes fluttering shut as they lost themselves in the sensation. His touch was skilled, and the friction drove them to the brink, each movement adding fuel to the smoldering fire between them.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice low, a trace of roughness seeping into his usually controlled tone. Y/N’s gaze met his, and the intensity in his eyes made them feel as if they were laid bare, every inch of desire on display for him alone. He didn’t look away, his fingers moving with greater purpose now, watching every small gasp and whimper, reveling in the effect he had on them.

When he finally withdrew his hand, Y/N bit back a whine of protest, only to feel him shift them back on the desk, guiding them to lie back. The cold surface beneath was a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from his body as he loomed over them, lips curved in a self-assured smirk.

“Be patient, Y/N,” he whispered as he leaned down, his hands tracing the curves of their body before he carefully unbuttoned their blouse, his touch gentle yet decisive. “We don’t want to rush this… not after all that time spent building up to it.”

With each article of clothing he removed, his gaze became more intense, drinking in the sight of them with an appreciative, possessive gleam. When they were finally bared before him, he let his hands roam, mapping every inch of them, his touch both comforting and electrifying.

His lips claimed theirs again, and this time, there was no restraint. His kiss was demanding, consuming, his hands gripping their hips as he settled between their legs. They could feel the hard press of him against their core, both of them beyond any semblance of control. His fingers laced with theirs as he aligned himself, pressing forward with an exquisite slowness that made them gasp. His forehead rested against theirs as he whispered, “You’re mine tonight, Y/N. Every part of you.”

With every thrust, his control slipped just a bit further, and he abandoned the careful restraint he had kept around his desire for so long. They clung to each other, their shared need overcoming any lingering hesitations, their breaths mingling in the heated silence of the empty office.

Each movement was a promise fulfilled, a long-held tension finally released, as he guided them to the brink, his voice a steady, grounding presence in their ear, murmuring words of praise and desire that left them trembling beneath him. And as they reached their peak together, Seonghwa’s name fell from Y/N’s lips in a breathless whisper, echoing into the quiet, marking the end of one kind of distance—and the beginning of something far more consuming.

They stayed close, breaths slowing as they held each other, still entangled on his desk. Seonghwa’s fingers gently traced along their arm, as if reluctant to let them go, even now. He smiled, soft and real, his usually sharp expression softened in a rare, unguarded moment.

“Tomorrow…” he began, a hint of amusement in his voice, “you might just have to stay late again.”

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez imagines #kpop #ateez smut #atz #ateez oneshot #kpop smut #smut #seonghwa smut #hongjoong #park seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa #office #office fic

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ph-cutie · 8 hours ago

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why is evrart's portrait so weird? a visual and written analysis.

Most of us on this website have warm sentiments towards him, but I feel confident in saying that his portrait art looks, or has looked, somewhat off-putting to a lot of people, and that this fact was intentional. So if you've always felt a little strange looking at him, but couldn't put your finger on why, I've got you! This is a remake of a 1k word, 12 paragraph post I've made on reddit this same day, but tweaked to be in a more tumblr cadence :3

FORENOTE: This post is solely about the portrait art. Not the man portrayed in the model and concept art, or his general features. Just making that clear.

BACK TO BUSINESS: I've made a little diagram circling out and numbering the most jarring parts of this image.

TLDR: this piece draws on mild anatomical distortions and body language discrepancies to catch the viewer offguard. if you want to know more you're a VERY lucky person, because i've got nearly 800 words explaining each point for you, under the readmore.

UNUSUALLY LONG&WIDE LOWER FACE: Probably the thing most people actually notice. Even compared to other images of him, his jaw is quite exaggerated. wouldn't stand out had the rest of him been unremarkable, however he is *very* remarkable.

STRAINED SMILE - MUSCLE TENSION: I'm not super into the "true and genuine good person smile" vs "deceitful scary smile" dichotomy, I myself am cursed with a jimmy donaldson smile. However, his smile does not look restful/easy-going. It's very horizontal. Corner 1 is pushing excessively into his cheek, corner 2 isn't even angled up. Lower lip is stuck out. CONCLUSION: looks forceful and a little painful on his end. Not the weirdest part of the image, but it creates problems later down the line with his other features.

FOGGY GLASSES: They say that eyes are the windows of the souls, and his design messes with that by fogging up his glasses. But even that has another layer to it, so let's peel it! His right eye (to the right of the image) is looking at the viewer, however, the glass obstructs it to such a degree that we do not get any functional information from it beyond the knowledge that it exists. His left eye is drawn much clearer, however, it's not looking at us. It can't tell us anything about what it's owner is feeling, it has nothing to do with us. For people who care about eye contact, this part of the drawing was made to be frustrating. The connection is juust out of reach :)

LACK OF VISIBLE EYEBROWS: Eyebrows are one of the most expressive parts of the face, and he's lacking them for whatever reason. Not much more to say on that for now.

NONSENSICAL PLACEMENT OF HEAD ON BODY: Compared to the concept art, where his shoulder is a little below his earlobe, the portrait's shoulder is portrayed as above THE ear. Basically, there is no neck/separation between his head and body. The rest of the drawing doesn't give a clear explanation on why this is (such as if he were clearly portrayed as sticking his head forward), so I deem this to be a genuine anatomic perversion. (AFTERNOTE: APPROXIMATELY 20 PEOPLE ON REDDIT HAVE TOLD ME "no that's actually the back of his chair you can tell from this slight hue shift" MAYBE IT IS. BUT I DO NOT BELIEVE THAT ANYONE REALLY NOTICED THAT LITTLE PIXEL LINE, AT THE SIZE OF THE PORTRAIT WHICH IS PORTRAYED INGAME. THE PAINTER KNEW WHAT IT LOOKED LIKE. SO DONT BOTHER ME ABOUT IT )

ARCHED CURVATURE OF THE SHOULDER- MUSCLE TENSION AGAIN: But I'm not done with his shoulders! His shoulder have an arched shape, which means he's hiking them up. Much like with his smile, it's a forceful posture, associated typically with some kind of discomfort. (SAME AFTERNOTE AS POINT 5)

LACK OF DETAIL IN THE CLOTHES: While we can choose what we look at, the human eye will always be drawn to the most striking or detailed parts of images. Artists know this. Often-times, we wish for the viewer to look at the face of a character- hence the popularity of anime girls with glossy, candy-colored eyes. Claire's zone of maximum detail density starts at his nose and ends at the bottom of his double chin. His clothes, meanwhile, are basically just flat shapes. His background is very simple too. SO basically, the remainder of the image is a graphical desert, and his jowls are the oasis your eyes will always wander back to :D.

THESIS: Claire's anatomy is mildly distorted in points 1 and 5, which immediately throws off the audience. His body language is strained, borderline convulsive in points 2 and 6, while his features at 3 and 4, which we look at for information (is he happy? angry? in pain?), are left blank. This discrepancy leaves us emotionally confused and unsatisfied. Thus, the vague sense of something being wrong with no further information. Point 7 is just a little garnish to maximize the above effects. Tada! that's it.

WHY DID I WRITE THIS?: People usually focus on beautiful art and what makes it as such- I've seen many brilliant analyses of Lieutenant Kitsuragi's portrait and why it comforts us. But I find it equally interesting to break apart pieces that just don't emotionally click with us, that feel off, and I also love Evrart Claire, and find him to be a good example of this that nobody seems to have previously discussed. So I took on the challenge! I find his portrait art actually really cute now so this is mostly drawn on from the feelings of Ghost of ph-cutie Past. I genuinely doubt anyone will read all of this so if u have, I thank u from the bottom of my heart <3.

#disco elysium #evrart claire #trust me claireheads had i not been lustful for him i woulda not had the patience to write all this. Hope yall forgive me #I love him AND also think that one png is kinda oopy goopy. yeah

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celtigxr · 2 days ago

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THE PINK DREAD - CH. 24 (Masterlist)

Chapter Summary: "But the courage he had bolstered on his descent to the Black Dread crumbled at the sight before him." Word Count: 6499 CHAPTER WARNINGS: A n g s t 🥲, mention of the term dwarf, Aegon being weird with crab legs.

Series tags: Aemond x Plus size!OfC, Aegon x Plus size!OfC, Celtigar!ofc, Plot with Smut, mdni 18+, Aemond End Game, Angst, Comedy, The Dragons Don't Dance, slow burn, friends to enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers.

Credits: Lace Banner by Aquazero, pearl divider by Pommecita

Notes: I hope y'all enjoy this chapter, and it was worth the wait.

Like every ball before this one, Aemond was in a state of agonizing torture for its duration. Though this feeling was tenfold for reasons that were clad in ivory, sitting before his family’s table at the far right, close but out of reach. The agitation that tightened his muscles and carved into his bones was unsettling as he tried to diagnose its origin. When did it start, when did it get worse, and when will it get the best of him? He tried to take a page out of his brother’s book and drown his emotions in wine, which did help his muscles relax, but beyond that, it was not a cure.

He sat on the far right end of the table, Aegon on his left, Helaena seated between him and Daeron, then their mother. On the Queen’s left was the King, his hand, and then sat Daemon, Jace, and Luke. The ten faced the entirety of the grand hall, within perfect view of everyone and the mind-numbing entertainment that followed. With Aegon cackling as he did, spitting out food and drink next to him, Aemond was very nearly at the end of his rope of patience. His only solace was that Lucerys was completely out of eye sight, because he was just as boisterous on his end of the table.

But her laughter and smile tethered him to the chair. Valeana became more and more of her old self when she drank, he realized. Perhaps a little more brazen when she is completely out of her wits, but still, he could see remnants of the little Valeana he once knew. Easily amused by crude humour and childish jokes, enraptured by stories that have been told a thousand different ways, awed by two-bit magicians who hide their cards in their sleeves so obviously, it pained him to witness. He remembered that one of her favourite tricks he used to do was pull a coin or a ring, a seashell or an interesting pebble from behind her ear.

She’d always demand him to tell her how he did it and he would deny her the satisfaction, because if she knew the trick he would never get to witness the awe in her face. He forced himself to bow his head when he found himself smiling at the memory. Luckily, no one saw him, least of all his own personal fool that sat right beside him.

There was a team of dwarves reenacting the battle of the Step Stones comically, with one man dressed as a red dragon, and the other as a giant crab. Aemond hardly paid attention, his eye too focused on Valeana’s profile to even register that Aegon turned to him until he spoke.

“Aemond,” his elder brother whispered harshly next to him. When Aemond did not respond, Aegon stressed his name again.

“What?”

“Maris is on the other side of the hall.”

When Aemond slowly turned to Aegon, he was met with a shit-eating grin that he desperately wanted to punch repeatedly.

Aegon went on, unperturbed by his brother’s threatening leer, “I just thought I’d remind you, since you seem to have forgotten her already.” He cleared his throat and flushed it down with wine before reaching out for a plate on his left and bringing it between them. “Try the crab legs, brother, they’re delicious.”

Aemond ran his tongue over his teeth, remaining silent lest he say something that his brother could use against him. Aegon plopped some of the legs onto his plate, and looked up at his younger brother.

Without breaking eye contact, he pulled up two legs that were still connected, “My favourite part is cracking them open before I slurp up their insides.”

Aemond’s hand curled around his dinner knife, knuckles white with the insatiable desire to plunge it into Aegon’s eye. Instead, he spoke lowly, only for his brother to hear, “Iksā iā qrīdropagon naejot īlva lentor.” (You are a disgrace to our family).

Aegon sucked up a piece of crab meat through the crack he made in the thigh, he chewed twice before swallowing, “You know I do not know what that means.”

Aemond slowly turned away from him, returning his eye back to Valeana and allowed his hand to relax from its grip on the knife. The dwarves’ play had ended and the fool’s bard, Quintyn Quicktongue, took over.

A short time later, the entertainers left the floor empty when the musicians began to play. It was not a formal dance, with no required steps and prior lessons to fulfill. Just mindless instrumentals for couples to dance at their leisure now that people were too into their cups to manage a more structured dance. Aegon slipped away sometime before that, muttering about needing to take a piss. He hobbled through the small exit behind them, probably to find a planter or a window to relieve himself in.

Now without his presence, Aemond was able to relax in his chair. He fiddled with the goblet in his hand, trying to keep his mind occupied with a checklist of duties, lest he allow the alcohol he had been consuming all evening take over his senses and make him impulsive. It was difficult, because the more feral part of his brain begged him for freedom, urging him that it would liberate his soul if he just acted upon instinct. And his instinct was telling him to spur Maris Baratheon and sweep Valeana Celtigar off her feet and kidnap her like some Ironborn savage does with a salt wife.

Before he could pull himself from his chair, his mother was at his side, leaning into his ear, commanding his attention with her sharp tone – the one he had always associated with motherhood.

“Ask Valeana to dance before your brother has a chance to make a fool of himself,” upon announcing her request, his eye flickered over to the girl in question. It was too late to even decide to listen to his mother, because Aegon had already got to the table, returning from wherever he went to slither in front of Valeana.

Aemond shared a look with his mother; he did not have to say a word, neither did she. Her lips pulled into a frow, and she settled back into her chair, glancing over to the Lord Hand.

The sight of Valeana smiling up at his brother and at how comfortable she appeared in his presence made his stomach churn. Aemond downed what remained in his goblet and swiftly stood up, excusing himself by planting a kiss on the side of Helaena’s head.

“Watch for salt-hungry eyes, Aemond. She will drown in them,” Hel’s warning only made him hesitate for a brief second. He was not in the headspace to decode his sister’s madness, so he just gave her a nod and left.

His departure had gained the eye of Maris, which he would rather avoid presently. Her neck lengthened as she tried to catch his attention from her table, but Aemond pretended he had not noticed, and instead slipped into the side entrance to the hall, into the corridor that was occupied by various guests and servants serving a variety of hand-held foods.

“Leaving already?” Ser Criston caught his attention. The kingsguard lingered against a wall, observing the patrons of the Ball diligently.

“I needed air,” Aemond confessed, leaning his shoulder against the wall next to him. “There are too many people in there.”

Cole nodded, “Every family in the Seven Kingdoms; even some Dornish families are here.”

A servant passed by with a platter of oysters on a bed of salt. The white cloak shook his head when offered, but Aemond needed to preoccupy his fidgety hands, so he plucked one off and then the servant left them to their conversation. The oysters were already pried open at the mouth, so a dirk wasn’t needed to shuck it open.

“Bit ironic serving those on Maiden’s Day,” Cole observed, watching as his prince slowly opened the oyster up, revealing the soft meat inside. “Oysters are aphrodisiacs, known to increase the libido of a grown man or woman, yet the pearls inside are symbols of virtue and virginity.”

Aemond did not say anything, instead took the half with the tongue and brought it to his lips, slurping up the salty meat in one go. There was something hard and pebbled that landed in his tongue when he swirled the morsel in his mouth. Taking the empty shell, he spit out a slightly lumpy black pearl.

“Hm,” he eyed it curiously.

Cole chuckled softly, “You found the lucky oyster, my Prince. Mayhaps you should give it to Lady Maris as a gift.”

At the mention of her name, Aemond rolled his tongue in his mouth and pursed his lips as if her name was a sour fruit he just tasted. Plucking the pearl from its natural plate, he rolled it around in his fingers, then tossed the shells onto a tray of another servant passing by.

“I am not certain of Lady Maris,” he confessed, his tongue loosened now in the presence of a man that he trusted. For a moment, his eye flickered towards the entrance when one of the Tyrell girls walked through with a tall man with dark hair and a wide, wolfish smile. His cloak told Aemond he was a Greyjoy, and his sharp blue eyes when they met Aemond’s cold lilac one told him he was Dalton.

“Prince Aemond,” the ironborn nodded, and the Tyrell curtsied when they passed by.

Aemond’s only response was a simmered glare and a flare of his nostrils.

Cole, oblivious to the interaction aside from a glance of acknowledgement, went on to ask why that was.

“It is a smart match, Aemond, and a compatible one. What is it that pulls you away from her?”

His fingers played around with the pearl in his palm, “She has started to bore me.”

There was clear exasperation in Cole’s features, distinctively paternal in its nature. “You are starting to sound like your brother.”

He might as well have called him a bastard and a coward, because being compared to Aegon was just as great of an insult. The pearl rolled along between his fingers, the lump pushing painfully against his skin as he clutched it.

“I do not wish to chain myself to a woman that I can lose regard for so easily,” he argued.

“Give it time, Aemond. Most marriages are not built on love and attraction initially. With Maris, you already have much in common, so much so that your conversations span hours I’ve noticed. You can do worse.”

But he could do better, much better. He wanted what was his all along, what was now being stolen by either his brother or his nephew. What could have been his, had it not been for his ego; had it not been for his over thinking mind at odds with his weak heart; had it not been for him allowing those around him to influence his motivations.

His mind drifted back to that day when he returned from a flight with Vhagar, where Valeana approached him at the main gate. She wished for peace and he had slighted her. His pride was wounded that day and he was spurred with the paranoia that she was a monster out to destroy him. Aemond rejected her, which he justified was the right thing to do, because she had hurt him when she ran into Aegon’s arms and bed, to do whatever it is they did in his bedchambers that night. It did not even cross his mind he might have driven her into his arms after what he had done to her in the library, because the sounds he heard that night ripped through his mind and down to his ribs, seizing him in anger and selfish pain.

Emboldened by a new wave of resentment at the mental reminder of his belief that Valeana was his brother’s newest lover, Aemond pulled himself off the wall and pocketed the pearl. He did not know the intricacies– nor understood them entirely –of Aegon’s arrangement he had with her. Whether it was built on the foundations of Valeana’s vengeance or Aegon’s innate desire to orchestrate chaos, it was clear that lust became a consequence of it. Mayhaps it began with Aegon, knowing his brother’s insatiable appetite for bodily pleasures, and with Valeana’s new nature of seeking out attention where she could, she was all too eager to allow Aegon to have his way. But then that begged the question: did Valeana take lovers before she came back? Was this a new trait that developed over the last decade?

Floris hadn’t mentioned in her rantings about Valeana luring men into her bed, she had only talked about Val’s need to seek out pity by mimicking a trapped spirit, pacing the corridors of her castle. Even as children, boys paid her little mind, unlike her younger sister Shyla, who was regarded as the prettiest of the three. Even Floris had suitors every once in a while, but her nature tended to send them in the opposite direction.

The cogs in Aemond’s mind turned and turned, and all Criston could do was watch him with a furrowed brow, and a concerned eye.

“My Prince, is everything alright?”

Then it struck him like a whip; harsher than the lashes he suffered as punishment for his crime against her.

Valeana never had lovers. She could not have, if the stories of her being reclusive were true. He’s never seen her around men at all, other than her own brothers and…

He shut his eye, feeling a headache spike at this temple.

Aegon was the first man to show her affection, and like a neglected puppy that didn’t know any better, she leaned into his touch willingly. And Aemond foolishly pushed her into his arms.

“I am fine,” he lied. “I just need some air.”

With that he left the knight to stand there in befuddlement. Aemond sped walked through hall after hall until he found a corner that was blessedly free of guests and of light. The sconce on the wall had burnt out, leaving the corner in blissful shadow, save for the moon that filtered through the small arched window. He leaned against the wall, snugged in the corner and immediately started to press his fingers into his temples. Aemond’s heart was pounding in his chest, steadily reminding him with every beat that his mind could not protect it any longer, because he was too much of a bloody fool.

He had managed to ease the tension in his skull after a while, and his heart rate lowered with the comfort of the darkness that hugged and shielded his figure. Though he could do nothing to cure the dull ache in his chest, because all he could see were her sad eyes that she only had for him. And her smile that now belonged to Aegon.

The sound of women’s shoes tapping against the flagstone in his direction made him freeze. He had no desire to see anyone, new or otherwise, but perhaps if he stayed as still as possible they would not notice him.

They didn’t, but he did. Her sudden appearance was electrifying in its fortuitous timing.

Valeana sped by him, head bowed as she braced a hand on her left thigh through her skirts. She appeared to be limping, though just barely, it was enough to spur Aemond into following her, veiling his yearning for her with a concern over her wellbeing. But as she rounded the corridor and found the entrance to the cellars below, he did not call out to her. Instead he hesitated until he heard her safely reach the bottom to Balerion’s resting place.

Aemond found himself in a state of uncertainty and fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of her ire. Fear of failing. Fear of heartbreak. Fear of her. He shut his eye and imagined Vhagar, a near two-century old beast; formidable, ancient, terrifying, battle-hardened, living longer than the beast below ever had. And he, Aemond Targaryen, claimed her, the oldest and largest dragon in the world, who has known more war and bloodshed than any dragon before her, post Doom of Valyria.

He could claim Valeana Celtigar too.

Hurdling down the spiral stairs, Aemond curled his fingers into a fist, bounding his will in determination and unwavering resolve. Swallowing his fear and reservation, much like he had done as a child approaching Vhagar, he forced himself to breach the line of no return.

But the courage he had bolstered on his descent to the Black Dread crumbled at the sight before him.

There Valeana sat upon the bench, her ivory and rose gown pulled up to the crest of her hip and thigh, where a leather corset was being tugged loose. Her pale knee peaked out through a gap between the harnesses that secured her thigh to the dark wooden appendage that was her leg. She had freed her thigh from the laced harness and then reached down to tug the wooden leg off with a groan of relief.

Aemond’s mouth popped open at the sight of her leg, bound in linen from the top of her calf and around the stump where muscle and bone cut off. Half her calf gone, her ankle, gone, her foot, gone. For the first time in years, he felt his vacant eye ache from socket to scar. The scarred tissue that was once his eyelids fluttered around the sapphire that now filled the empty space, feeling the ghost of the dagger that traumatized it for life.

His entire world came crashing down on him in the instant; everything that he thought he knew, and everything he said and did in the moon’s time that Valeana had returned. He had the knowledge that her leg was healed and she was able to walk, and while half was true, the evidence of his most heinous crime glared at him like his sapphire eye every morning in the looking glass.

Aemond’s memory begun to torture him as it spun and wove tapastries of his misdeeds. The library, where he had pushed her, the shoe he had found when he tried to find her. Dragging her drunkard self in haste through the castle by her wrists. How he made her run after his bloody horse, whilst she pleaded for reconciliation— gods, he felt sick.

The urge to flee from her was potent, but the leer of the Black Dread would not have his cowardice that day. Frozen in time, Aegon the Conqueror's dragon seemed to snarl at him for even considering it.

The whimper she let out from her lips as she massaged her thigh was what did him in. It just plunged him into the waters of his remorse and self-hatred. The shocking need to help her as he once did as children took control of his limbs and his lungs; it was instinct, despite his overwhelming dread and shame.

Her name on his lips and his step forward brought his presence known to her. Her spine straightened from the intrusion, and when her head whipped around to see him standing there, he knew she wasn’t prepared for anyone to find her in that state, least of all him.

Lightning surely struck down her spine. The level of shock and dread that filled her to see him standing there, witnessing her in this state was a whole nother level of humiliating. Every hair on her body raised on end as her mind frantically went into survival mode. Valeana forced her trembling arms and hands to move and grab her prosthetic to put it back on, but she fumbled, and the wooden appendage clattered on the floor, causing her to gasp a soft: ‘no!’

Aemond was there in an instant, on his knee at her side and grasping her prosthetic with tender hands. Had she not been in such a fretful mind, she would have noticed how his fingers trembled just as much as hers.

“Here, let me–”

“No–” She wretched her leg from his hands with a sniffle. Without looking at him, she quickly slotted her stump into place and adjusted her knee around the leather harnesses. Lacing the corset to secure it around her thigh was another challenge though, because with her shaking digits she was having a difficult time weaving the strings through the holes.

His balmy hand stopped hers and she couldn’t help but flinch and freeze under the contact. By now she was looking down at her leg through a blurred veil of salty tears, barely witnessing his fingers delicately lace the corset, one hole at a time. Valeana forced herself to sit still, concentrating on the hum of music above them and the short laboured breaths she was allowing herself. When Aemond got to the end of the corset, he tugged at the strings, causing her to flinch.

“Is that too tight?” His question was as soft as his touch, and it made her chest ache.

“No… No, it’s perfect.”

At her approval, he began to tie the laces, twice to secure its place. Once he was done, his fingers did not move from her thigh. They remained where they were, above the hemline where leather met flesh. His thumb moved along the stitching and over her soft skin. His touch felt like licks of fire and every time it happened, her teeth sunk further into her lip to stop herself from making a noise. Eventually Aemond’s hands journeyed south, stopping at the peak of her white knee through the dark material, and that is where his head dipped until his nose hovered over the joint, almost as if he was going to kiss it.

“Does it hurt?” The question was so silent that she thought she had imagined it.

Swallowing, she shook her head and answered tentatively, “I’m used to it.”

The admittance sent a shuddered breath through him, making his shoulders buckle at the weight of his transgressions. She could feel his hands gently tighten around the curve of her knee, even through the leather harnesses that framed it. Then his forehead fell onto her thigh, which was a strong enough gesture for her to shut her eyes and free the tears that clung to her lashes.

After a while she could hear and feel him speak; the vibrations of his timbered voice rattled her joints and burned her skin.

“Valeana, I had no idea–”

Her sadness and longing battled her anger and her resentment. She wanted this, didn’t she? She wanted him on his knees, to kiss the wound he inflicted on her, and beg her for her forgiveness. She wanted him to want her, to feel his fingers on her exposed skin. But why now? Why did he cave now, after all this time? Spurring her at every interaction, then coming close and then pulling away with such animosity she was convinced that she was the one who pulled out his eye.

Was it because she was now coveted by two other men? Aegon did say that Aemond was possessive when his things were being used by others. This is what the plan was afterall, but now it was coming into fruition it just tasted bittersweet. If she was not with Aegon, if Jace was not tasked with the mission to woo her into a betrothal, would Aemond be there with her, or would he be dancing with Maris until the hour of the wolf?

Ultimately her anger won, despite her sadness dampening its rigid edges. Even in the softness of her tone, the bite was still there when she spoke.

“It does not matter, Aemond,” she pushed away his shoulders, shoving him away from her leg so she could return her skirts and preserve her dignity. “Leg, or no leg, the consequence of your actions has cost us a friendship we’ve developed since infancy, if there ever was one.”

She might as well have taken his own sword and shoved it through his chest. Aemond’s head was still bowed, incapable of looking at her and facing the truth of her words. He was a man defeated, something that Valeana had tried to manifest for half her life in the privacy of her own mind. Though she could not help feeling that she was just as defeated as well, because her loss had never been rectified.

“I will make it up to you,” again, he spoke so softly it was painful to hear it.

“I am done trying to forgive you–”

“I know,” his voice rose a desperate octave, but then returned to its original state. “I know I do not deserve it. But, I will rectify all that I’ve done.”

Valeana shut her eyes tightly. She was so tired of getting hurt by this man, but somehow she was incapable of refusing to move from his storm of arrows that penetrated her body over and over again. And now that she was the one with the bow, she found it was difficult to let go of the string.

“Do not bother, Aemond,” she forced herself to say. Her voice strained at the resistance of her heart. “Mayhaps it is better if we part ways equally. You with Maris, and I with–”

“No! Do not say it,” the sudden rise of volume jostled her. Now she had no choice but to look at him. His lilac eye glistened with unshed tears, a sight of which she did not think was possible on Aemond Targaryen. His nose was pink, and his lips were plush and swollen as they wobbled. There was a faint pull she felt under her skin, giving her the sudden need to capture those lips with her own. But she refrained.

“I do not want her,” Aemond continued, pushing those words through his teeth with a low growl. “I want… I want you. I-I need you.” His other knee met the floor, the weight of his grief causing him to sink into her lap. Aemond’s forehead and nose buried itself in the valley between her skirt-covered legs and his hands desperately grasped onto her phantom limb, tugging it to chest.

“I miss you.”

Valeana’s will absolutely crumbled. She let out a world-shattering sob; the air that left her lungs was the breath she had been holding in for ten years. Her body folded over him, with her own desperate hands flinging onto his shoulders and fingers tangling in his hair.

“I miss you too.”

Aemond sharply inhaled as if his bodily instinct was to try to repress any sound that would betray how vulnerable he was. His shoulders tensed under her before he slowly lifted his head from her lap. They were so close that their noses bumped into each other. Through the blur of tears she concentrated on his good eye, while her right hand shifted down to his cheek, where her thumb grazed the ridge of his scar.He shut his eye when he felt her digit dip underneath his patch and slowly pushed it over his forehead, leaving him completely bare before her.

Valeana swallowed as she gazed upon the endless sea of his sapphire eye, framed by the gnarled pinked flesh that used to be his eyelids. It twitched underneath the light touch of her fingertips, and she wondered if it still pained him like her leg. She wondered if there were times he thought he could feel his eye, or his lashes graze his cheeks when he blinked. She wondered if it was the most painful thing in the world when it happened. Her forehead slowly landed on his brow, her lips hovering over his gem eye, nose buried in the corner of it.

They were just two broken individuals, trying to fill their empty spaces with each other.

“I thought you hated me,” his whisper reached her ear, tickling the hair strewn against her face.

“I thought I did too,” she replied, voice soft and coarse. “I wanted to. But even when you made it so easy for me to–And I do mean easy.”

The corner of Aemond’s lip twitched ruefully, and his grip on her leg tightened closer to his chest.

“I couldn’t,” she finished, brushing her fingers through his hair. He leaned into her touch, letting their noses bump and align with each other. She swallowed thickly when she was staring back at his beautiful lilac eye, framed by his dark blonde eyelashes so long she could feel them ghost her own. “Why did you push me?”

A question that he dreaded to answer, but she deserved one nonetheless. She felt his hand move from her leg to cup the side of her face, fingers curling around the shell of her ear and thumb roaming over the mound of her cheek, collecting the tears under his calloused pad.

“I was terrified of you. Of what you were doing to me,” he shifted between her legs, adjusting himself so he was now holding both sides of her face. Aemond pulled away from her so he could look at her properly, earnestly, “I have been childish and cruel to you, my friend. I am so sorry, Valeana… For everything I’ve taken from you. For everything I’ve done since then. And I know… I know I pushed your heart into… his hands.”

Valeana closed her eyes and sniffed deeply at the mention of Aegon. A new feeling that she was not accustomed to, that she was not willing to let go just yet. It tugged at her heart in the knowledge of her own conflicted mind. Had it been weeks ago, even when her resentment was fresh and untethered, she would have taken Aemond right then and there. Defiled her white dress and committed her body, heart and soul to him in sickness and in health. But even in his groveling, his heartfelt apology that her soul desperately craved, the apprehension gripped her throat. She was afraid to get hurt again, afraid that she will find another mistake in Aemond, afraid that she may never forgive him. But now she found something uncomplicated.

Aegon felt safe, Aegon felt secure, but Aegon also felt… unknown.

“But I will spend the rest of my life in dedication in the pursuit of being worthy of your forgiveness. Worthy of your touch. Worthy of your lips. Worthy of the air you breathe. I need you to know that I am yours, should you still want me. If you ever did.”

“Aemond I–” she desperately wanted to say it. There was a visceral need to tell him she always did, but that doubt clawed at her throat, preventing her heart from speaking on her behalf. “My life has become so complicated. My father wants me to try to court Jacaerys at his behest, and then there’s—”

“Shh,” he gently hushed her with urgency, desperately wanting to keep his name from her lips. “You need not decide now. Take your time. I’ll wait for you.” Aemond gently nudged her face down so he could place a kiss upon her forehead, and that’s where his lips hovered. “But I only ask for one thing.”

Valeana blinked rapidly, trying to clear the remnants of her tears, “What is it?”

“Dance with me,” he pulled away to look upon her again. “It has been my greatest desire all eve.”

Her brow slightly furrowed as she continued to blink, an expression so adorable he could not help but smile at it.

“I do not think I am in the right state of mind to go back upstairs, Aemond.”

The prince gently shook his head, “Not up there. Right here, where our only witness is Balerion’s ghost.”

At the mention of the dragon, her eyes shift over to the massive skull that had been staring upon them the entire time. Valeana almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it; imagining the largest dragon to ever exist being forced to watch such a pathetic display of human emotion. She did not know anything about the dragon’s temperament, but she doubted Aegon the First’s dragon was as sentimental as Dreamfyre or even Syrax.

Valeana returned her eyes onto Aemond, a small smile breaking her pout as she gave a single nod, “I think I can handle that.”

They ascended with Aemond’s firm but gentle grip on her arms. He handled her as if she was just learning how to walk again, as if her legs would collapse underneath her if he let go. Her leg had a dull ache, but it was barely there compared to the state it was minutes ago. When they stood at full height, they took a moment to assess each other as if for the first time in years.

Valeana reached out and fixed his eye patch, securing it over his eye, and cleaned up the stray hairs and righted his skewed circlet. Aemond brushed his fingers over her ear, tucking back wayward stands before moving to her neck where he adjusted her simple white gold and ruby necklace.

Once they were satisfied, Aemond's hand found the small of her back and the other took her’s before pulling her body into him. Valeana’s other hand found Aemond’s shoulder with ease and now with her chest pressed against his, she had to crane her neck to look up at him. There was still the hum of music above, subtle enough that they were able to hear their own breathing, but loud enough that they could find a rhythm to their movements.

No words were spoken, just peridot and amethyst staring into each other. There was no extravagance to their waltz; their steps were slow and shallow, but they moved around in a circle before Balerion in grace and poise.

“You’ve gotten better,” Valeana broke the silence, the comment lifting the heaviness of the mood that they had sowed earlier.

“Hm,” Aemond allowed himself to smirk, “I had a good teacher.”

Her lips twitched as her smile broadened, filling his chest with warmth and hope. “You were a terrible student.”

“Mayhaps it was because I was distracted.”

“Distracted by what? We were alone.”

He hummed in amusement, his head bowed slightly so his nose grazed over the crest of her head. She spotted his tongue flick out and run over his coiled lip, causing a ripple of heat go through her body.

“You developed breasts then, and they were so soundly pressed against me–”

“Oh my gods, Aemond,” she buried her face into his shoulder when her face burned. “You were a little pervert all along.”

He chuckled whilst nuzzling into her hair. A rare sound, one that she had not heard for half her life. It was sweeter than strawberries and richer than whipped cream.

“You left bruises, you know,” Val emboldened herself to say, then pulled her face from his shoulder to meet his furrowed brow. “From the other night… You littered me with bruises.”

At the realization of what she meant, his head tilted with a little sparkle in his eye. His lips curved, reminding her of a mischievous little fox. Suddenly Aemond’s hand slid from her back to her front, his long nimble fingers finding the neckline of her bodice.

“May I see?”

“Aemond!” She swatted his hand away, ignoring the spike of excitement that it brought her. His response was more chuckles, a gift to her ears. Then his hand moved to the side of her face where he pulled her head closer to him so he could plant a kiss upon her forehead, thus causing a frenzy of butterflies in her belly.

This was so very strange if she thought too much about it. Who was this man, and what did he do with Aemond One-Eye? He was almost too familiar to the Aemond she once knew.

“He’s the same boy you loved, Valeana. Just older, more scarred, and hidden away.”

Valeana smiled to herself. She supposed she found him then. Lifting her head back up, she moved her hand from his shoulder to cup his cheek. The motion made him hum in contentment, leaning into the warmth of her palm before turning his face so he could place a kiss upon it.

Aemond’s eye flickered then, moving to the side of her face. He blinked a few times before pausing their dancing so he could raise his hand towards her cheek.

“One moment,” his lips pursed, “You have something just there–”

He tentatively reached towards her ear, and then with a flick of his wrist he pulled his hand in front of her, cradling a chromatic black pearl with a green sheen and a little lump at the top between his fingers.

Valeana’s eyes bugged out of her head at the sight of it, her hands flying to her ear as if she would find more hidden behind the cartilage. Aemond’s smile broadened at her reaction, which had never changed after all these years.

“How did you– Did you have that this entire time?”

“It was behind your ear–”

“Oh stop,” she playfully chastised, with a limp smack of her hand.

He quickly took it and gently placed the pearl in the center of her palm, “For you.”

Valeana eyed the precious marble in her palm. She knew its worth, since black pearls were rare, particularly one with this colouring. Though she doubted he cared much for its worth, what made it truly special was how it was given to her, like a promise that they will return to the children they once were.

Aemond’s hands curled around her own, wrapping up the pearl in their fingers. She looked up at him, marveling at his face now that it was so close. He was always so handsome, but now he was ethereal. Angular features cut from marble, crafted by the Valyrian gods. His lips were always her favourite part of his features, next to his unworldly lilac eyes that felt far too soft for a man like him.

They inched closer, bridging whatever gap that remained between their bodies. But before their noses could even bump into each other, an intrusive voice cut through their peace like a Valyrian steel sword slicing through someone’s skull.

“Oh, well, isn’t this a touching sight.”

Aemond and Valeana spun around towards the threshold of the stairwell, both instinctively unlatching from each other at being caught in a compromising position.

Leaning against the archway, his hands clasped in front of him, the older prince peered at them with a mocking sense of beguilement.

“Did I interrupt something innocent, or was dear ol’ Balerion going to bear witness to a deflowering, on Maiden’s Day no less?” Daemon’s eyebrows raised to his hairline, the corner of his mouth tugging into a roguish smirk.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE SNEAK PEAK:

“Who is he?” Valeana asked, narrowing her eyes at him. He seemed familiar, but from this height, she could barely make out his face through all the dirt and sweat. She took a sip of her drink in contemplation. “Dalton Greyjoy.” And then she spat out her drink.

Notes: Hokay *wipes sweat* we've gone over the enemies arc. Now path to redemption...right? RIGHT? I hope you guys liked this chapter, it was difficult to write, because I wasn't sure if it was satisfying enough. But don't worry, for those that want him to suffer a lil more -- he will. We're almost halfway through the story. Or a little less. I honestly don't know how many chapters this will become. So I'm going to slow down updates to once a week, because now I'm writing more than two stories at the same time. For those who missed it, I'm in the middle of making a lengthy fem!Aegon one shot for funsies...cept it's not very fun, it's actually quite sad :') Hopefully I'll get that finished by wednesday or before.

Tag: @queen-of-elves, @keylin1730, @anakilusmos, @weepingfashionwritingplaid, @sugutoad, @desireangel

( if you wish to be tagged for this story, just give me a reply! )

Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

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msbigredmachine · 1 day ago

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New To This - Chapter 15

MASTERLIST

An hour after the hour-long ride from Josh’s house, Delilah was still perambulating around town, her mind filled with everything that she was going to say to Andre. She tried to anticipate his every reaction, mentally preparing herself for anything he could throw at her. What she would do if he cried. What she would do if he yelled. What she’d do if he even became violent. Yesterday in his gym, Josh had taught her a chokehold that she could take down people twice her size with, in the ring and in real life. She even came up with a plan for handling his stoic silence. All bases needed to be covered for a decision this monumental.

But before all that, she made a call to her sister, Simone, to ask if she was home. She needed to talk to her first before anyone else. Her friend and co-worker, Tiwa would be at Simone’s too, as she was the babysitter to CJ, Delilah’s three-year-old nephew. Her mother would also be contacted on FaceTime, so Delilah would be killing several birds with one stone.

It was a somber affair, breaking the news to her family. Over a plate of Simone’s comfort food and a pitcher of Clay’s (Simone’s husband) “famous” iced tea, with Grace on the other end of Simone’s iPad propped up on the kitchen table, Delilah sat them all down and laid out everything that had happened with Andre and Josh and what her plans were. As she unburdened herself, the gravity of what was happening to her life began to dawn on her for the first time maybe since this whole thing started. Overcome with emotion, the tears began to fall as she came to terms with the end of her life as she knew it, which included a decade of devotion to the boy she’d loved since she was a teenager.

Simone and Tiwa sat on either side of her, the latter handing her a tissue, their embrace warm and comforting, their expressions surprisingly understanding. However, her mother did not share the same empathy, and watching her eyes fill with disappointment through the iPad sank Delilah’s heart.

Grace frowned. “Child, what on earth are you doing?”

Dabbing her eyes, Delilah shook her head, refusing to be deterred by the negativity. Not this time. “Something I should have done long ago, Mama. Andre and I’s relationship has been falling apart and I didn’t see it until it was too late.”

“From everything you’ve just said, you’re the reason y‘all are falling apart. You were unfaithful to him and threw away a stable life for some…wrestler,” Grace scolded, ever judgmental. “And you've not even told him! This is ungodly behavior from you, Delilah.”

“Mama, stop,” Simone cut in, “What’s happened has happened. Let’s just be there for her and-”

“I do not accept that, Simone. Your sister is behaving like a child. Your daddy and I did not raise either of you to be so reckless and irresponsible! If he was here-”

“If he was here, he would have supported me no matter what!” Delilah finished for her, more tears falling as the mental and physical exhaustion of telling her truth took its toll. “All I ever wanted since my wrestling journey began was your support and Andre’s, Mama, but neither of you gave it to me and I ended up finding it somewhere else.” Wiping her eyes again, she shook her head, determined to get her point across. “I never meant for this to happen and I’m sorry that it's going to hurt Andre in the process. But I’m not sorry I met Joshua. Ultimately, he helped me reach my goal and I’m forever grateful to him. I don’t expect you to understand. I’m a grown woman, and the decisions I’ve made thus far are mine and mine alone.”

Grace tsked, her nose turned up at the absurdity of this situation. “You have so much to learn about life, my dear daughter. It’s a shame you chose to learn the hard way.” With that, she ended the call, the screen returning abruptly to CJ's grinning face that made up Simone’s Home Screen.

Blowing out a shaky breath, Delilah pushed away the plate in front of her, feeling sick to her stomach. “Well…that went well,” she murmured sarcastically.

Tiwa rubbed her shoulder and rested her head on the other one. “It’s okay, Dee. She’ll come around.”

“She never comes around,” Delilah scoffed. Her mother was stubborn and strong headed and stuck to her ‘principles’ no matter how flawed and traditionalist they were.

“I’ll make sure she does,” Simone promised, peering closely at her little sister. “You do understand why she’s acting out, right? She’s just worried and wants the best for you professionally and personally.” Simone had the same concerns as her mother, adding to her disapproval of this love triangle her sister had deposited herself in. But the last thing Delilah needed right now was more scolding. “Tell you what, whatever happens with you and Andre, I’ll make the guest room available for you. You can stay here until your move to Orlando. I know CJ will be happy to have his auntie around.”

Letting her big sister’s words sink in, Delilah smiled a watery smile, grateful that she had someone’s unconditional support in whatever she decided. “Thank you.”

“You never need to thank me for anything, Lilah Girl. By the way, what does this Josh boy even look like? I wanna see what the fuss is all about.”

Tiwa swooned and made a show of fanning herself. “Sis, he is six different kinds of fine.”

“For real? Lilah, let me see!”

Chuckling softly, Delilah opened up her phone and found one of his photos with his newly won Intercontinental championship belt. Simone did a double take. “Damn, girl! Tiwa’s right. He’s gorgeous! Do he got brothers? Asking for a friend of course.”

“It better be for a friend,” Clay chimed in from the living room, making them all laugh. “Of course, baby, I'm asking for Tiwa over here!” Simone joked.

Leaving her sister’s home feeling just a modicum better about herself, Delilah reluctantly made her way back to reality. The closer she got to her trailer home though, the confidence diminished and the butterflies in her stomach increased as she struggled to get her emotions in check.

What she was about to do, the words she was about to say, would signal the end of the only romantic relationship she had ever known. She was about to put a definite end to the only life she was familiar with and launch herself face-first into a completely daunting one that she, for all intents and purposes, knew very little about in the first place. It had nothing to do with Josh, and very little to do with Andre. This was about Delilah finally doing something for herself, something she should have done long ago.

If she was honest, she was glad that Andre had gone to that audition. She was glad that he had been called back. She sincerely hoped that he would make it far in the competition and be on TV too. She wanted him to be happy. But more than that, she had been looking for the perfect way out and finally she’d found it. Having him around all the time, working out with her and attending her shows, was supposed to make everything right again. But it hadn't.

The only real purpose the last few weeks had served was to increase her guilt over sleeping with Josh. As much as she told herself that she pushed her lover to the back of her mind, the truth was that their affair was never far from her thoughts. She had nearly confessed to Andre on multiple occasions, but couldn't bring herself to break his heart. His announcement about the Idol callback had given her the perfect cover to blow up.

But she was tired of pretending and feeling guilty. There were more mistakes in her life to come, but she wanted to make them on her own without worrying about someone else's feelings. She owed Andre complete honesty. She needed to finally confess and let him go. She needed to move on and so did he.

By the time she parked alongside the house, she had resigned herself to her fate. As agreed, she would crash at Simone’s house for her final few weeks in Pensacola and deal with the weight of what she had done. And then she would move down south all by herself and move on with her life. She would be okay. Andre would be okay.

Somewhat quelled by this, she stepped through the front door of her house.

Sitting on the couch with his feet resting atop a big cardboard box, Andre sipped from a beer bottle. "I think this is everything," he nodded to the other boxes stacked around the room. "I kept the dishes, but your pots and pans are in there," he pointed toward a couple of boxes next to the kitchen island.

A numbness settled into her entire body. Opening her mouth and then shutting it again several times, Delilah leaned against the front door and spluttered, "You're kicking me out?"

"You didn't come home. For two days," Andre stated, his voice surprisingly void of anger. "You somehow managed to get it up in your head that I don't give a fuck about you, Dee, but I do. More than you could ever know.” He took another swig of his beer. "The guys left at around one a.m. When you didn’t come back in the morning, I got worried. So I went to Tank’s gym. You wasn't there. Went to Simone’s. Not there, either. Then I remembered the tracker on your bike," he said.

Delilah's shoulders sagged with relief and something else. She knew where this was going. "Andre," she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears.

But he only held up a hand and continued his dialogue. "You took me a long way outta town, babe," he said, "Luckily, I’ve been to this neighborhood a few times for work, so it was easy to get in. I followed the tracker and I found your bike in some fancy new house parked next to a big ol' Escalade. His security system sucks, by the way. I was able to sneak ‘round the back of the house into the backyard, and who do I see in the pool?" Meeting her eyes, he took another drink, his expression hard. “Y’all were too busy to see me standing there, but now I know who you been learnin’ all your little sex tricks from.”

The bile rose in her throat faster than her body could compute. Rushing down the hall and into their bedroom, Delilah emptied the contents of her stomach into the bowl as sobs wracked her body. She had intended to tell him about the affair. She had planned it perfectly on her way back from Simone’s but now her plan had been blown to smithereens.

As she dragged herself to her feet and flushed the toilet, Andre loomed behind her like a shadow, leaning casually on the doorframe. "How long have you been fucking him? Hmm? My guess is since your tryout," he surmised. It was an image he would probably never forget; not just catching her in the act, but it was the look on her face...the freedom, the euphoria...She had never looked that way in all the years they'd been together. It was at that moment that he made his decision to take this long overdue step.

Splashing water over her face, Delilah rested against the edge of the sink, avoiding his eyes. She couldn't look at him, couldn't bring herself to see the accusations in his eyes. Nodding, she sniffled back another sob.

"I'm so sorry," she managed to choke out when she risked a glance at him through lowered lashes. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

Andre smirked, shaking his head in disbelief. "You don't just fuckin' cheat on your fiancé by accident, Dee. I know it might be hard for you, but can you at least try to respect me enough to tell me the fucking truth now that I know? He's been in our house. Did y'all fuck here, too?"

"No, of course not!" Like a wounded animal, all she wanted to do was hiss, claw, and bite back at him. She wanted to scream for him to understand, to try to act like an adult for once. But she had broken their engagement. She had been planning a life without him. She had no right to fight back.

Squeezing past him, she glanced into their bedroom. The piles of laundry on the floor were seriously diminished, and the candles were gone. The closet was more than half empty, her clothes and the rest of her belongings gone, probably in one of those boxes in the living room. This was really happening, and she couldn’t bring herself to stop it.

"When I met him, he was just Main Event Jey Uso, ya know?" she started, lowering herself to the bed and then standing again. Sitting felt too comfortable. She didn't deserve comfort right now. "One of the most over guys in the business that I wanted so badly to be a part of. He was really complimentary about my talents. And it felt so good."

The look on Andre’s face made her wince a bit. She knew how absurd it sounded. She knew that it didn't make sense. But she knew that there was nothing she could say that would sound valid. There was nothing that made her actions right. "Knowing that somebody thought I was good enough to make it, that he wanted me to succeed? It was easy to convince myself that I was just thanking him for having faith in me."

In disbelief, Andre sat his beer bottle on the top of the dresser and crossed his arms. "You couldn't just buy him a thank you card or somethin’? Gift basket?"

"How? We’re broke as fuck!" Delilah argued without thinking, regretting it instantly.

A wry laugh escaped him as he scratched the top of his head. "Right. Our money issues. Of course," he started, biting his lip and shaking his head. "Ya know what? I'm not even gonna do this with you. We've both known this was coming anyways," he sighed, turning back for the living room. “I’ll drive you to Simone’s. You need to get whatever else you got here before you head out.”

Delilah followed him, her legs as heavy as lead, wondering why she felt so hollow. It was what she had wanted. She had the gun loaded and cocked before she ever walked in the door. She guessed it was just hard to accept that she wasn't the one pulling the trigger. "Can I ask you a question?" she spoke up.

Andre opened the door and lifted one of the heavier boxes into his arms, leaning against the wall for support when he looked back. “Might as well."

"Why pretend all this time?" she asked, grabbing the box closest to her before moving toward the door.

Andre stepped onto the porch and spoke over his shoulder, "I wasn't pretending," he grunted, laying the box on the ground and opening his trunk to place the box inside. Resting his hands on his hips, he offered her the first genuine smile she had seen since arriving home. "You forget who you're talkin' to, Dee? I’ve known you for half our lives. When you go off to the most life-changing event of your life and you don't call me at all? I know somethin' is up, okay? You had already decided that you were goin' to Orlando before you ever got home. So what was I supposed to do? Fight you?

"I figured I'd give it a shot. I decided I was gonna try to give it a shot, try to salvage what was left of us. Cuz ya know what?" Tilting his head to the side, he gave her that crooked grin that had always set her heart on fire in the past. "Believe it or not, this ain't easy. It ain’t easy walkin' away from somethin' that's been your life for as long as you can remember. But this has to happen. We ain't been right for a long time, and every time we try to fix it, we fuck it up even more."

For a moment, she thought that she might throw up again. The way that he was shrugging his shoulders made it seem as though he didn't care. But he was right. They knew each other. She could see it in his eyes. He loved her, more than he was ever going to admit in words. "And you don't think that we can co-exist for another couple of weeks?" she asked, unsure of where the questions were coming from. But at the moment, the thought of leaving him hurt more than she could explain. Not Andre, her fiancé, but Andre, her best friend since high school.

"No," he said without hesitation, stepping past her en route to the house to grab the last box. "You need to go, Dee. You need to follow your dreams. I've seen you wrestle, and you shine brighter than a damn diamond. You light up, and the crowd loves you. It’s where you're supposed to be. Not in this house," he explained.

Stepping back over the threshold, she wordlessly helped him carry the rest of the boxes to his truck. Once they were all loaded, she turned and looked at him, slightly amazed by how peaceful all of this was going. "I was gonna leave today," she informed him.

Andre smiled, unsurprised. "I was going to ask you to leave today," he said, "I guess we’re both doing what needs to be done."

At that, a sense of calm filled her beyond all reasoning. She was seconds away from abandoning the union they had worked so hard to maintain, yet both were happier than they had been in more than a year.

Glancing down, she spotted the final piece of her connection to him, the sparkling diamond ring still on her finger. Sighing heavily, she slowly tugged it off her finger and took his hand, pressing it into his palm. Andre locked eyes with her the entire exchange, the sadness, the relief and resignation in his eyes reflecting the emotions she was feeling too.

After rolling her motorcycle onto the back of his truck, Andre opened the passenger's side to help his now ex-fiancée in before moving to his own side, kickstarting the vehicle to begin the ride to Simone’s house. In the rearview mirror, Delilah cast one last look at her former life, heaving a heavy, cleansing sigh. The first chapter of her new journey had been completed, and despite the bittersweet sensations she was currently experiencing, she couldn't wait to crack on with the next chapter.

--------------

Thoughts?

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#jey uso #main event jey uso #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso imagines #jey uso smut #jey uso x black oc #new to this

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honeyjars-sims · 10 hours ago

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3.37 Soulmates

Today I’m spending some time with Pops. While I was camping, he found out that the LGBT center where he’s been working forever will be closing in just a couple weeks and he’ll be out of a job. It wasn’t unexpected–they’ve been having funding issues for a while–but it still sucks. Unfortunately, Dad is in San My for a gig this weekend, so I figure Pops could use some company.

“I’m really sorry about your job,” I tell him as he finishes washing the dishes. “Are you guys gonna be okay?”

“We have a good amount in savings, and I’ve already been in contact with someone at the LGBT center in Del Sol. They’ve all but offered me a position there that pays more and has more flexibility.”

“Wow, that’s great! So I guess you won’t have much of a reason to stay in Evergreen Harbor, then.”

“Not really. We could probably find a smaller place closer to the LGBT center.”

I know what that means. There’s no reason my parents should have to pay for another 3 bedroom house when their kids are grown. “I guess it’s time for me to find a place, too.”

“I’m sorry to spring it on you like this, but I think you’re ready for it.”

“Yeah, I am. I really appreciate you guys taking me in for as long as you did.”

“You’ve come a long way, Johnny. You’ll be just fine.”

“What about you? You’ll be all alone when Dad is traveling.”

“That’s the good thing about this job. I’ll be able to work remotely some, so I can travel with Dad sometimes.”

“Oh, that’s good then. I know it’s not easy for you two to be away from each other.” I pause. There’s something that’s been on my mind since I came back from my camping trip, and Pops seems like the perfect person to help me figure it out. “Do you think you and Dad are soulmates?”

“Soulmates? Hmm.” He stops for a moment to consider. “No, I don’t think we are,” he finishes.

“Really? Why not?” I'm taken aback by his answer. What does he mean, they're not soulmates?

“Well, you remember how Dad and I met, right?”

“Yeah, you saw each other at a protest and sparks flew or something cheesy like that.”

“Mm-hmm. But I don’t think I’ve ever told you the full story of what happened that night. Before I ended up at the protest, I was at your mom’s apartment–she told me she needed to talk to me about something. Instead, I told her I was gay and couldn’t be in a relationship with her anymore, and I left–without finding out that she was pregnant.”

“Oh. She was going to tell you that night?”

“Yes, until she decided that I wasn’t the kind of man that should raise children. If things had been different–if she had told me she was pregnant before I came out to her–I would have stayed.”

“You would’ve kept pretending to be straight?” I can't imagine what his life would have been like but it sounds pretty terrible. And to think he would have chosen that because of me and Chantal?

“For a while at least. And who knows, maybe eventually I would have found someone else to love and I’d still be happy. But I wouldn’t have met your dad that night.”

“Ok, but that didn’t happen. What does that have to do with being soulmates?”

“Because, Johnny, if I’d stayed with her a little longer then the things that happened to you and Chantal at your mom’s house wouldn’t have happened. I would have been there to keep you safe and well cared for. I just can’t believe that your Dad and I were meant to be together when the circumstances that led to us meeting were also the circumstances that led to my children being hurt and neglected.”

“Well, maybe it’s fate and you would’ve met a different way.” I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around what Pops is saying. A world where he and Dad aren't together just doesn't make sense.

“Maybe. But I don’t think any of these hypotheticals really matter. Like you said, that’s not what happened. What matters is that today, in the here and now, I can’t imagine my life without him. Any reason in particular why you’re thinking about soulmates?” He raises his eyebrows knowingly.

“I guess it’s more that I’m wondering how you know if someone is the right person for you, but it kind of sounds like it’s not that simple.”

“Well, a sign isn’t going to drop down from the heavens that says ‘This person is the one,’ but it doesn’t have to be complicated. Find the person you can’t imagine your life without. I don’t know if that’s what you were wanting to hear, but I hope it answers your question.”

Find the person you can’t live without. Maybe there aren’t signs falling from the sky, but those words are about as close as I’ll get. “It does," I tell him. "It may not be the answer I was expecting, but I think it cleared something up for me.”

“I see. Do you want to talk about it?"

Normally I would jump at the chance to get some input, but now I don't feel like I need it. I shake my head. “No, I think I can handle it from here.” The thought makes me nervous, but I can’t avoid this. I need to talk to Lacey.

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#hmm what do you think he's going to tell her?#ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 story #simblr #sims story #sims storytelling #simlit #sims community #show us your story #stksafeharbor #safeharborstory #sh:chapter3 #sh:johnny #sh:solomon

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violetsaffron5 · 3 days ago

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Beautiful Disaster (13)

← Chapter 12 • series masterlist • Chapter 14 →

13 | Glass

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

A party at Satoru's house ends in disaster.

words: 3.9k

AN: Hey guys! Not sure if anyone is even reading this story anymore, but I fell of the face of the planet for a while, sorry about that. Things IRL were crazy with work and my personal life, and I just didn't have it in me to write anything. Things are much better now and I was in the writing mood, so decided to give this one a little update, since I already had the chapter mostly written already.

I will be going through it to proofread/edit before I do the last two chapters (which will probably be posted together).

Ao3 • Discord 18+ • Social Media • Series Masterlists

April 2012

Taking a deep breath, cinching the robe around your waist a little tighter, you step into the class. There’s a murmur from students setting up their supplies, getting their easels into position, and canvases ready to draw on.

The walls are covered in art from various classes and years passed - even some portraits of past nude models hang on the wall as examples of creative liberties and proper proportions. Something many artists have a hard time getting a handle on.

As you stand in front of the class, a little stool next to you so you can sit on occasion while the other students draw, you look around the room, making eye contact with Choso.

He gives a small, shy smile, like he always does and you swallow thickly - feeling the way your chest and neck heat with the flush creeping up to your cheeks.

Satoru wasn’t particularly… pleased when you told him you were taking an extracurricular art class this semester. Less pleased when he realized Choso was in your class.

And even less so when you told him you offered to be the nude class model.

The decision was easy though, despite his grievances. His only real one was jealousy and not wanting everyone in the class to ogle you - which you assured him wasn’t likely going to be the case. You have no reason to be ashamed, and everyone who’s taking this class knew this was an assignment. Besides, the professor has made it very clear that if anyone says anything or makes you uncomfortable, they’ll fail and be removed from the class.

You offered to be the model when you found out it’s a paid gig, and you’ll take an opportunity that arises to get your own money - money your mom doesn’t need to know about and money she won’t have any reason to grill you on how or where you spend it.

Once you explained this, Satoru relented a little, though you’re confident his problems have more to do with Choso than anything else. Which is ridiculous considering there hasn’t been anything more than a friendship between you two. It’s not like you have a history with Choso like Satoru does with Mei.

“Whenever you’re ready,” the professor states after closing the classroom door. You look around, taking in the overhead string lights giving the space a warm glow - the shades are drawn on the windows, stopping anyone from outside the room from witnessing what’s about to happen.

Licking your lips, and looking up at the ceiling, you draw the ribbons on the robe, letting the soft, fluffy material fall to the floor. The air is cold in the room, immediately perking your nipples as you purse your lips, feeling a wave of goosebumps cover your flesh.

The rustling of utensils being grabbed and the scratching on canvases immediately fill the room. Gaining a little more confidence, you look back at the class; Choso’s deep black eyes are the first - and only - you see in the room. At the beginning of the class, you thought it might be more awkward with him here, being the only person you know outside of class and seeing you vulnerable in front of everyone. It’s more comforting than you could have imagined.

In reality, you don’t know him all that well, but he’s always been kind, and he hangs around Suguru a lot. You also don’t miss the way his eyes trail the length of your body before he busies himself with what he’s supposed to be doing.

There are several times during class when your eyes meet, you give a little shrug and smile and he grins full-on, laughing to himself quietly as he continues drawing your form.

When class comes to an end, the professor allows you to leave to dress in the bathroom down the hall and come back since he has a few announcements.

Once you’ve changed you take your place next to Choso as the teacher drones on about maintaining professionalism from seeing a classmate naked and urging everyone to continue working on their canvases on their own time, turning in their finished work at the next class.

Except for you, of course, being exempt from having to draw anything and getting an automatic A on this assignment.

“Thanks for drawing me naked and not being a perv about it,” You whisper to Choso, nudging his shoulder gently with yours.

He flashes his brows, chuckling, “That’s kind of my thing, you know - trying not to be a creep.”

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you wait for Choso to finish packing his art supplies, slipping the canvas under his arm, gesturing for you to walk ahead of him out of the room.

“Are you coming to the party tonight? Haven’t seen you around the last few.”

Choso gives a wistful smile, “Yuji’s grandpa is sick, in the hospital so I’ve been joining him on his visits. But I think he’s hanging out with his friends tonight.”

“Great!” Smiling widely, you turn and walk backward toward your next class as Choso stops in front of the stairs, on the way to his, “Then I’ll see you there!”

Steam rolls out from the bathroom door when you open it, the cool breeze from Satoru’s room hitting your skin, immediately making you shiver. He’s lying on the bed, arm relaxed by his head, long legs crossed at the ankles.

As soon as you emerge, he lets his phone drop to his chest, a heated gaze watching as you meander around, combing through your hair and deciding what to wear for their house party tonight.

Per usual, there’s a fight tonight starring yours truly. How the higher-ups at the school haven’t figured this out, even with Toji acting as an “inside man” - for lack of a better term - is beyond you. You’d think schools would want to investigate why several students show up with black and blue bruises and cut lips and eyebrows every so often, but apparently, they have better things to do.

Satoru has gotten off the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist and slipping them under the towel until it becomes loose enough to drop to the floor. He pulls you close to him, one large hand splayed on your stomach, the other playful tweaking your pert nipple while he kisses down your neck.

You let out a soft sigh when he nibbles your lobe, before whispering, “You smell so fucking good,” pushing his hips into your ass so you can feel his growing length.

With a sharp gasp, he spins you around, setting you on his dresser, wrapping your arms around his neck as he continues nipping and kissing your neck. And almost inadvertently, as soon as he slips his hand between your thighs, you close your legs a little tighter.

Satoru pulls away, brows knitted as you sigh and purse your lips. His tone comes out harsher, more exasperated than you think he really means, “What’s wrong?”

The truth is your heart fucking aches at the state of your relationship. Things were so great, until they just weren’t anymore - there was a part of you that always thought people who described being in a hard relationship felt like they were drowning were just being dramatic. But it honestly feels that way.

Your chest is heavy and your heart beats so loud that sometimes it’s the only thing you can hear; your throat feels so tight you can’t catch your breath. There are nights where you’ve stayed up wondering if he feels the same way but in reality, you’re not sure he’d ever tell you.

He avoids conversations like the plague and is so much better at hiding his feelings and playing them off than you are.

Since the Okinawa trip, there’s been a lot weighing on your mind about how realistic this relationship with Satoru is. He’s fun and makes you feel alive with his silly ideas and schemes, makes you feel heard and seen. And along that same vein, there are times where you feel simultaneously loved and unwanted.

Afterall, he’s the one who wanted to keep things casual but relented only because you wanted a relationship and it almost feels as if you forced his hand with that. Sure, he made his own choice, but even then, there are things you can’t deny or look away from.

There’s no hiding Mei is a point of contention in your relationship. She has been since before it even started. And it was something you thought would go away - that she would see the two of you together and go find someone else to sink her claws into but she just keeps coming back, and for whatever reasons, he won’t let her go either.

Satoru told you their relationship was primarily physical - that there’s no real interest in one another beyond that, and the only reason they were involved to begin with was because of their family businesses being tied together. More convenient than anything.

So why won’t he let her go? And is it fair to even ask him to? Outside of Suguru, Shoko and even Utahime, she is one of his oldest friends.

You’ve also been wondering recently how much Satoru respects you. Considering how many times you’ve talked about how uncomfortable you are with this… relationship with Mei and how it hurts you, nothing has changed despite his repeated promises.

And it’s not logical to think he’d change.

Satoru groans when you hop off the dresser, grabbing your shirt and slipping it on, “I’m fine. Just not in the mood, I don’t feel great tonight.”

“You’re never in the mood anymore.” There’s no mistaking the annoyance in his tone as grabs his glasses to shield his eyes, no doubt rolling them behind the dark glass.

Despite the lie you’ve been telling, you want nothing more than to have him, let him have his way with you as he has so many times before. But you’re not emotionally ready to go there right now - you need time to think and you can’t do that when he’s buried ten inches deep in you almost every night.

So the physical aspect of your relationship has taken a hit. You’ve tried talking about Okinawa with him, bringing up everything with Mei once again - but just like always, Satoru says you’re being dramatic, making a mountain out of a molehill.

But it’s clearly not nothing since it bothers you and it’s clear as day to everyone around.

Satoru doesn’t bother staying by your side during most of the party, opting to meet up with some of his classmates. You try not to pay too much attention to him, but you sneak glances over every now and again.

He chats, a drink in hand while laughing and animatedly waving his free hand around while telling a story.

“Hello?” A pale hand waves in front of your face, snapping a few times, breaking you out of your trance - apparently you were staring longer than you thought.

Blinking a few times and turning your head, you look at Choso, “I’m sorry - what were you saying?”

He gives a soft smile, glancing between you and Satoru for a moment, “Everything okay?”

Pursing your lips and sighing heavily, you nod slowly, “Yeah… It’s just…” You trail off, not sure how much or what to actually say. It doesn’t take long to make a decision though, since looking back over to Satoru shows Mei has joined his little soiree. “He says nothing is happening, but he’s always with Mei.” You nod your head in that direction.

Choso purses his head and nods, “Yeah. I was wondering about that.”

“Great.” Your voice is monotone. Because this just confirms you’re not the only person who sees them together constantly - that it’s not just you being high maintenance or a pain in the ass. It is a real problem, and one Satoru refuses to acknowledge.

“Why don’t we,” Choso starts, eyes flickering between yours for a moment before pointing off to the side, “take some shots?”

Your eyes trail to where he’s pointing - a small group of people around a small table, just big enough for someone to lay on and take a body shot. A smile spreads across your face with amusement for two reasons: Shoko is currently taking a shot glass out of Utahime’s mouth and tipping it back and because you’re feeling a little petty tonight.

Maybe it’s the alcohol you’ve already consumed, your inhibitions are lowered but you don’t care. If Satoru gets to have someone other than you hanging with him all the time, going on family outings during the holidays and hanging on him twenty-four seven - then why can’t you do the same?

Choso’s questioning stare is innocent, so there’s a chance he won’t be up for this - there’s a part of you that wonders if he meant just regular shots, and not specifically body shots. You get your answer however, when you agree and a wide smile spreads across his face.

While you walk to the table and lay back on it once Utahime has gotten up, Choso busies himself with getting salt, a lime and a shot of tequila.

Shoko is off to the side, staring daggers at you before asking, “What the hell are you doing?”

You smile and shrug, “Playing his game. I’m tired of being the one that gets hurt all the time.”

“This is a really stupid fucking idea,” Utahime chimes in to your surprise. It’s not often she adds her two cents on your relationship - normally she just adds how stupid she thinks Satoru is.

Choosing not to answer, you lay back and turn to face Satoru. He’s not paying attention, however Mei is, you glare, lick your lips and lift your shirt just enough to expose your navel.

“Ready?” Choso asks and you nod, but he keeps a hold of the tequila shot, rather than putting it in your mouth.

Small grains of salt hit just below your belly button and then the feel of a small metal ball and cool tongue trail up. The reaction your body gives is normal; stomach clenching, breath hitching and thighs closing ever so slightly - like a reminder of all the times Satoru has done the same to you.

Looking down at Choso was a mistake - he has a mischievous smirk spread across his lips and heat in his eyes. And rather than take the shot in his hand, he presses his lips to yours. Your eyes widened in shock, because this was not part of the plan - it was supposed to just be a normal body shot, just something to make Satoru a little jealous and hopefully realize how he’s been treating you.

Panicked, you sit up and fix your shirt - Choso winks, placing the glass to his lips just as a fist connects with his jaw in a deafening crack. Satoru is seething, nostrils flared as he grabs a fist full of Choso’s shirt and pulls him in for another punch to the face.

Choso isn’t caught off guard this time, landing his own blow on Satoru’s cheek, and then his ribs.

“Stop!” You scream hysterically, covering your mouth with your hand, because this was not the mess you wanted to cause - this wasn’t supposed to happen!

Before you can take a step forward, a large hand grips your shoulder. Suguru is next to you, shaking his head before stepping in to separate the guys. Panicked, you look at Shoko who has a look of disappointment written on her face, Utahime is shaking her head, watching as Suguru stands between the two.

Satoru runs a hand down his face, Choso wipes his lip with the back of his hand as Suguru says something to them - when he’s done, Satoru stalks out of the room and up the stairs without so much as a glance in your direction.

“Why,” it’s a small noise that leaves your lips, not loud enough for anyone to hear other than yourself. Looking at Choso with upturned brows, you shake your head slightly. If you had known he planned on kissing you, there’s no way you would have agreed to do this.

He must have seen you mouth the word because Choso walks over to you, brows bunched together. “Because he treats you like shit. And you just let it happen time and time again.”

A scoff leaves your lips, “I love Satoru - you know what, I can’t deal with this right now.”

Onlookers move out of your way as you make your way to and up the steps to Satoru’s bedroom. The room is quiet, light off except the illumination of the lights peeking out from the partially closed bathroom door.

For the first time, probably ever, you knock on the door to make your presence known before poking your head inside. Satoru’s standing, head hanging between his shoulders, leaning on his palms on the cool countertop.

“Satoru,” a step forward with your hand outreached for him, wanting to check on the cuts on his lip, and the bruise blooming across his cheek, “I -”

“Stop.” He interjects, tone raspy, lifting his head to look in the mirror but not looking in your direction.

A sigh leaves your lips, because of course he doesn’t want to talk about this. He would rather let his emotions show physically - through sex or fighting - rather than sit and have a two minute conversation to talk things through.

“Okay…” You’re really not sure what to do in this situation, stay and potentially make it worse or leave him to cool off and come try and talk to him later. Opting for the latter, you take a step back - you really need to talk with Choso about what happened too, you just needed a second to take a step back and see Satoru. To make sure he didn’t need any bandages or some other medical care. With the exception of the few scrapes and bruises, he seems physically fine.

Turning and opening the door, a large hand reaches over your head and pushes the door fully closed.

“Where are you going?” Satoru asks, voice annoyed.

“To check on Choso.” It comes out quieter than you intend, which Satoru’s body heat radiating against your back, his hand still firmly pressed against the door, yours on the knob.

“Why? Kissing him wasn’t enough?”

Heat flares through your veins at the comment, because he’s acting like you asked for him to kiss you. And that was never the intention - you would never do anything like that, and he knows it - especially with your history.

He’s just trying to piss you off too.

Turning around, you snap at him, pointing a finger in his chest, “Maybe because my boyfriend went insane and beat the shit out of him,” he grins slightly at that comment, teeth pink from fading blood. “And because -”

Because you saw the way Choso looked at you when he suggested body shots. Knew it would piss Satoru off to no end. Because you were already questioning what Choso was wanting to do before you agreed. It was like you lost your mind in the moment, in all of the feelings and anger and hurt at everything that has happened, and continues to happen in this relationship.

“Because this is my fault.” Your voice is quiet, shoulders slumped, guilt written on your faces as tears well in your eyes.

Satoru’s arms are around you the moment the first tear drips from the corner of your eye, holding you close and rocking side to side gently.

“Don’t leave me,” He whispers into your hair and you’re sure he doesn’t mean physically, in this moment.

“I’m not - I won’t.” You say between sniffles, pulling back to look into his ocean blue eyes, showing his own uncertainty in this situation - a look you’re not used to from him. “Satoru, that was scary. It looked like you were trying to murder him.”

“I wanted to.”

Your brows pinch together at his admission, “You’re insane.”

“In a good way?” The teasing tone to his voice is starting to come back.

A small laugh leaves your lips, “How is there a good way to be insane?”

He thinks for a moment, pulling you back into his muscular chest before shrugging, “Dunno just, don’t go to him. Okay?”

Closing your eyes, you nod against him, taking in the warmth and safety you feel in his arms, hoping he’ll explain his reaction to that, “Why did you punch him?”

It takes several minutes of standing in silence, holding one another to realize he’s stopped swaying you back and forth, a motion you found comforting when he was doing it, and the odds of him answering are lower and lower with every passing second.

After another few minutes you pull away and sigh, wiping the smeared makeup under your eyes away.

“I don’t want him touching you,” Satoru says hurriedly when you open the bathroom door again, grabbing your free wrist, “Let alone kissing you.”

That’s not a real answer - just some fucked up possessiveness he feels he needs to display because another guy is clearly interested in you. Which is ironic considering he said the two of you could see other people before he agreed to try dating.

And clearly he forgets is attached to him at the hip anytime she’s around, but how dare anyone but Satoru do that with you. It’s a stupid double standard and one you’re tired of.

He lets your arm go when you shake your head slowly, which breaks your heart. Wishing he would fight for you right now, for your relationship - not physically fight, but actually listen to each other and work together to make things better.

Maybe it is time to call it quits. Having these feelings in your relationship continuously is not healthy and it’s taking a toll on you. At this point you’re not sure what’s worse - finding your boyfriend cheating on you with your own mother, or this cycle you found yourself in with Satoru.

There’s a deep stuttering sigh behind you, to your surprise, “Things haven’t been great between us recently,” he says quietly, clearly unsure how to say what’s on his mind, “And I - fuck -” he groans, running his hands up and down his fast several times, “I don’t know, okay, but I don’t want to see you with anyone else.”

Your brows are raised as you turn to look at Satoru with surprise, not having anticipated getting any sort of answer. It’s not much, but it speaks volumes that he’s admitted your relationship isn’t in a good place right now - honestly you weren’t sure he was even aware of it. He never wants to talk about these things, he’d rather have sex and show you how he feels by the way he delicately spreads your legs, teasingly kisses up your thighs and makes love to you.

But it also hurts that the only time he says he loves you, with the exception of the first few times, is when you feel like you have to force it out of him, or when he’s buried deep in your cunt.

“Are we gonna make it?” You whisper back. And for the first time in your relationship, find yourself wondering when this relationship will meet its inevitable end.

But maybe there is hope. He’s admitted this - maybe it’ll just take more time for him to find the words and continue learning to open up.

Satoru kisses the top of your head, opening the restroom door and pulling you gently to his bed, laying down behind you and covering you both with a throw blanket before whispering back, “We’ll make it... Just don’t leave me.”

So you don’t.

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imaluvsj7 · 4 hours ago

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緑 ──── SECRET GLANCES & SWEET CONFESSIONS ; sunghoon enhypen

SYNOPSIS: sunghoon has a deep rooted crush on the reader but is too afraid to confess

GENRE : fluff ; WC: 1,403

WARNINGS : english is not my first language, not proofread yet, mention of reader being a little shorter than hoon, stalking term mentioned only once but there is no stalking plot in the story, that's all ig please inform if you find any.

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

written in third person pov:

Entering the class you look out for your table where you usually sit only to see, Jake sitting there. Which was weird since you guys had your own fixed places, not through the professors but due to the daily sitting arrangements and habits.

Shrugging the thoughts you make your way to the last bench while getting comfortable you remove your required materials for the respective class.

Soon the profesor walks in and starts to teach while everyone follows him noting down whatever he was teaching but to be (not so) unknownst there was a pair of eyes who was busy admiring diagonally a certain person rather than focusing in front of him.

That certain person was you while the curious pair of eyes belonged to Sunghoon, the shy but loud introvert of the class. He was busy admiring the details of your today's hairpins and the style of outfit you chose to wear.

Admiring from afar Sunghoon did realize after noticing for months, how you love to style your outfits and add some accessories. Some days they are pearl jewelleries, other days it's a bow but today it was a cat paw printed hairpin.

At this point Sunghoon knows your favorite food from the cafeteria but he is still curious about what you like outside the cafeteria. Sunghoon knows your favorite subject, Sunghoon knows your favorite book from the library, Sunghoon knows everything you like or dislike during college hours.

Although he never tried to look out after college hours to not make you uncomfortable or put himself as a stalker but he was curious how you live outside the college, surely he was a whipped guy but way too scared to make a move.

His bestfriends, Jake and Jay tried to convince him and motivate him to confess or maybe just make a small move but he becomes a stuttering mess as soon as he speaks about you— oh the flushing cheeks oh his that turn crimson red when you both make eye contact.

The reason Jake sat on your seat was to give Sunghoon and opportunity to talk to you but the guy was lost between the overflowing river of thoughts. He wondered if anyone knew about his ‘admiration’ for you.

But only if he knew, it was not unknown to anyone in the class that Sunghoon has a deep rooted crush on you, even you know. It was pretty obvious, he was really bad at hiding through that toothy grin which showed his natural fangs and flushed cheeks.

Some people even questioned why he was stuck at you but couldn't make a move, don't think it in a negative way. It wasn't anything related to your popularity or face but many people liked him and some also had a crush on him not only for his visuals but his kind gestures. He ended up politely rejecting them.

People were just curious and concerned if he doesn't make a move then what if he loses the opportunity to be with you. Sometimes these thoughts scare him too, what if you end up liking someone else. Shaking his head he pushed the thoughts aside while focusing on you— opps, your hairpins.

Feeling someone's gaze on your back you turn your head and catch yourself in eye contact with Sunghoon, who soon lowers his head with a flushed cheeks feeling embarrassed getting caught. Soon he scratches his adam apple while looking up only to realize this time you're looking at him.

‘Hi’ – you whisper to him while slightly waving your hand along with a small smile that lights up Sunghoons eyes. His eyes began to sparkle, shooting you his toothy grin showing his fangs while returning your small wave muttering a small ‘hi’ while his cheeks flushed crimson red.

Your smile widens into a grin while raising your left eyebrow at him, he shakes his head in response, his grin never fading. You turn your back at him while his eyes lose the sparkles and his grin turns into a flat line.

Soon his grin returns after you look at him but this time throwing a small piece of paper ball near his foot pointing him to pick it up. ‘Meet me after the class ends in the lobby’ — the paper read. Sunghoons ear turns deep red while he looks up and nods his head at you.

Impatiently waiting for the class to end he bounces his leg, as soon as the bell rings and the professor leaves he jolts from his seat while walking into the lobby waiting for you to come outside.

Arriving in the lobby you search for him soon meeting his eyes, ‘Shall we go to the parking lot, the lobby is very noisy?’- you ask him the question after reaching him. He looks behind you to inform Jake about his absence but the boy who was observing the scene already along with Jay who has walked out of his own class, they both eagerly nod their head for whatever reason while Jake squeals for his friend with his big smile.

‘Sure’- is all he mutters as you grab his wrist and walk down to the parking lot while Sunghoon looks at his wrist blinking to make sure he is not dreaming. Soon after arriving at the parking lot you make him stand near your car while looking at his height.

“I'm not gonna twist my words so let's talk straight Sunghoon”- your statement settles a negative feeling in his stomach but he nods his head. “Till when are you gonna keep looking at me in every corner of college or you are going to make a move I'm tired of waiting okay.” His eyes widen at your boldness but he soon smiles and says “Uhh,,,, you know about my admiration.”

“You stupid — you flick his forehead with your fingers while he winces and rubs his forehead — me, you and everyone in our class knows about your obvious ‘admiration’ which you can call crush you know.”

“Oh,,, so do you,,,you know,,, you also” there he goes as a stuttering mess in front of you. “Before my answer I want you to finish your sentence and tell me how you feel while looking at me.”- you demand while looking at him with a small frown and a small pout.

“I have seen and observed and even some of our classmates have told me but I want your words Sunghoon, I need the confirmation before we move forward with anything.” - sensing your concern he quickly clears his throat and gains his confidence and looks at you properly while slowly holding your hand in his.

“___ I have liked you for almost a year now, sounds pathetic I know but I never dared to make a move because I was shy to stand near you and say anything but I really admire you, I always want to know you and your habits outside college. I want to be the person you send your daily ootds and ask me for the hidden details in them. I want to be the person you feel proud to call your boyfriend. I know I have my flaws but I can always work on them if you want to help me. I will try my best to be the best version of myself for us. Please give me a chance and accept me as your boyfriend.”

His eyes shine with tears of relief, he has finally confessed his feelings for you. He looks at your smile while you place your hand on his cheeks wiping his tears away. “Why are you crying oh my god you are adorable and of course I want you to be my boyfriend. Gosh I was waiting for this day. I like you too hoonie.” “Thank you for waiting for me”- he says softly while trying to reach out for a hug but to make sure you're comfortable.

Observing him you pull him close while hugging him and placing your chin on his chest. You both smile to yourself while not noticing the 2 pairs of eyes who were peeking to look out for his friend but now they both are hugging each other with big grins while Jake puts his phone in his pockets after the recording ends, Jay pulling his hands while they both walk out of the parking lot happy for their bestfriend.

꩜ .ᐟ NOTE : i hope you liked my first written fanfiction i have started writing after approximately 2 years so let's see what's more coming although i will be very slow with postings,,,, also i just wanted this fic to be hoon being a secret admire with title ‘subtle glances’ but here we are i wrote the whole story with a different plot ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

꩜ .ᐟ NOTE : comments to be added into my permanent taglist (i haven't made the taglist yet)

˙ . ꒷ 🍰 masterlist taglist. 𖦹˙—

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