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#meant to post yesterday but the day got away with me
cursedcola · 2 days
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Can I just say that as a writer, the whole AI text-to-speech and fan-fiction being used as fuel to train bots is so discouraging. I saw a post yesterday about an author’s work on ao3 being stolen, voiced by AI, and then uploaded to youtube without permission to be monetized.
Now, back in my day there was still thievery. People’s works have been plagiarized on many occasions. I’ve had the unfortunate pleasure of having an entire story copied word-for-word off of one of my accounts when I was a baby writer. You know, when we used Quotev and Wattpad, although for me it was before the latter had more traction with monetized stories, paywalls, etc. It’s where I got my start at least before moving to AO3 and Tumblr.
So, me being me, goes online and lo behold there is just a sea of AI voiced content. I’ve considered trying voice acting myself, and even debated on narrating some of my own stories. To see AI slowly begin to replace every existing creative process is so unfortunate.
I’ve messed with bots for fun a bit, and they’re fine when *tamed*. I see no reason for people not to enjoy them so long as the bots are trained using the conversations it has alongside the creator’s written input. *Not* existing pieces of literature that authors have poured their heart and soul into. Even here on tumblr, you have to go physically seek out the button that denies allowing your posts to be used for data collecting. I haven’t looked into it, but I bet there’s a way to get around the ‘agreement’ despite saying no.
The more I see, the less motivated I feel to create. I’ve paused working on my Twisted Wonderland Fan-Game because the fear of someone stealing all my hard work zapped my motivation away. Every time I sit down to work on it, I’ll last a few hours before my heart fizzles out and it sits untouched for another week. Since it’s fan work, it’s not as if I can claim it or monetize it myself. I don’t want to. It’s not meant to be that.
It’s so upsetting that this is a fear now tied to being creative. If someone stole your work in the past, it was obvious since most instances were simply copy-paste. Now we have to stress about our art being used to fuel a machine. AI is fascinating, and I think it can become something great. Sadly the cost is very high, as shown by recent events.
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brain-buddies · 1 year
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Not only is Valentine's day for Love, but for People with Epilepsy!!
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mbat · 16 days
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i would like to thank the planet earth that the weather app says itll be in the 50s-60s tomorrow. ive been melting this past week and its led to a chain of events that im still going through
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seraphdreams · 4 months
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SMILE, YOU'RE ON CAMERA. | YUUTA OKKOTSU.
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𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. when taking care of your university finances proves troublesome, the universe grants you your very own savior. but it’s gonna cost you.
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. smut, college au!yuuta / bimbo reader (obvi), filming, lots of porn references… a lot, virginity loss, praise, oral n fingering, slight obsession, pussydrunk yuuta, unprotected love making, yuuta’s rich and unsettling. mdni <3
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 5.3k
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! omg, yuuta? i meant to have this out a few weeks ago but got caught in a little writing slump :( nevertheless, here’s to a new year and a new fic! yuuta’s been slowly creeping his way up my favs list , tehe !! as always, please reblog / comment if you enjoyed this , it’ll fill me with joy. thank u ♡
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you’re a pornstar.
albeit, an amateur one with heaps to learn regarding the ruthless industry, but the weight still stands.
the details in which you came to the jarring conclusion were muddled with the convoluted steps that it took for you to get there, murky in your bubblegum-filled mind. all you knew was that yuuta okkotsu was a force, a gentle one, to be reckoned with.
it must’ve played out once you returned to your campus dorm beyond the dusk of midnight, under an unmitigating fatigue from the twelve hour waitressing shift just prior. through abhorrent patrons and the lack of a spendable paycheck, the excruciatingly long night barely made you enough money to even think about buying those dollish pumps you’ve been yearning for. how cruel.
in between working and haphazardly handing your earnings over to university fees and textbooks, you just couldn’t seem to make ends meet.
you would curse the day you took it upon yourself to branch away financially from your parents under the guise of growing up, since now it’d be a blessing to have even a cellphone bill paid off. whatever the issue seemed to be, lady luck was truly never bothered enough to be on your side.
fortunately for you, though, it was that same arduous night, you had been huddled against your stuffed animals in bed, mindlessly scrolling through the various social media apps on your phone; switching from sites like instagram and twitter to youtube then right back to instagram all over again, only to be met with an offer dusted in pink glitter that caught your eye as if it were made for you.
“stars needed — will pay upfront.”
it was a shoddy story post, one that could be clicked past and forgotten forever — yet, a brisk reminder of your situation in the form of borrowed, used textbooks with pages missing or vandalized, and today’s horoscope that said to take risks; you did exactly that, aiming a swipe up that would ultimately rid you of the worries of yesterday.
there were no reasons as to why you couldn’t be a star. certainly, you had the face for it, and you were told by multiple charmers that you were beyond beguiling to get anything you could ever ask for. what dismay could possibly unfold from contacting .. yuuta okkotsu .. about his offer?
hm, that’s funny. the name rang familiarity as it seeded in your mind.
must be one of yuuji’s friends.
itadori yuuji, your best friend of three years now. out of all the time you’d spent together, you came to realize that he could get along with anyone, despite their true intentions. he spoke highly of his friends as well, which earned him a sacred spot in your heart that couldn’t be replaced by anyone.
itadori had briefly mentioned in a ramen-fueled frenzy that one of his peers were “so insanely talented” and that you’d definitely get on with him. but when you asked for validity on that vague claim, all yuuji seemed to respond with was a mere “just meet him, you’ll see.”
from your recollection, the acquaintance he was boasting about, as if it was his own personal victory, was none other than your yuuta okkotsu. he was meek, stuck to a close-knit friend group consisting of maki and toge from your physics class, and the one time you ever spoke to him was to ask about yuuji’s whereabouts, to which he responded that he went back to his dorm after gojo-sensei’s lecture.
he seemed, normal. average, even. that surely had to be the case since your memory was hazy on his being otherwise.
it was true, though, yuuta was gifted. in a way that transcended words, skillful towards visual aesthetics, and careful with the craft. he would spend most of his freetime fumbling with a camera or recording the works of the mundane. overtly, he’d grown such a strong passion in the field of videography in hopes to capture the reality of humanity, the authenticity within intimacy — what could he possibly need a “star” for?
shadiness aside, you were in a tough spot, willing to do whatever to free yourself from the financial burden that was jujutsu technical university. with a swift swipe in tandem with the soft tapping of the pads of your thumbs on the keyboard, you were taking yuuta up on his offer.
within seconds, he responded back with his address and an appropriate meet-up date to start the project.
if only you were aware of how drastically your life would change from here on out.
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a cluster of days had passed since you last got into contact with yuuta. he had told you to meet him at his place, claiming it would be more efficient than traveling to an unnamed destination with pounds of heavy photography equipment.
where you stood currently, was in front of the bare oak of his front door, hand wrapped in a loose fist as you knocked gently on the wood. a quick moment had passed by before you took initiative to raise your fist and knock once more. before your touch could meet the wood, a muffled “coming!” chimed beyond the door. from what you had heard on the other side; the scuttling behind the door and jingle of the lock, yuuta had opened the door soon after.
with his hand rubbing away the goosebumps that stood at the back of his neck, he beamed. cordially, warmly.
“you’re actually here. hi,”
upon first glance, yuuta had a distinct look. he stood tall, not tall enough to matter or incite intimidation, and although he wore a black button-up (a bit formal for an occasion as casual as today), his lean build shone through under the thin fabric, ripples of veins dancing up his forearms. what you couldn’t miss, however, were the grey eyebags under his emotionless navy orbs, as if he’d forgone weeks of sleep.
yuuta okkotsu was unsettling.
“hi,” your voice sounded as a sweet croon, dulcet enough that you could barely hear it yourself as it escaped in a breathy breeze. his smile grew softer in response, that monotonous gaze in his eyes fizzling away into something of serenity. “come in, please,” yuuta held the door open wider for you to tread past, caught up in observing the bunch of fabric that hugged tightly around your ass, then closed it gently behind you once you stepped completely inside. he silently cursed at himself for ogling — he truly didn’t mean to stare. you’re just a lot prettier up close. “i was just getting set up. you can have a seat if you’d like.”
as you’d expect from any guy your age, his place wasn’t much to gaze at, nor did it have much personality. in a corner to your right was a houseplant, that of the fern variety, and a few steps deeper into the abode was the living room, where yuuta resumed his fumbling with the transfiguration of his tripod.
you decided to sit on the couch across from him, taking in the bleak sight of his home. you would have almost believed it was unlived in had it not been for the scattered midterm review papers decorating his coffee table. it was obvious he had money from the endless rows of space that surrounded the two of you, although a candle or something would be nice.
he peered away from his tripod to look through the viewfinder of his camera, ensuring that the lens was functioning properly. he grew pleased to see the image of you distracted in fiddling with your thumbs reflected back at him. “are you nervous?” his gaze fell upon you through his own eyes, a concerned expression harboring his features.
you were pulled out of your muse of unfamiliarity to direct your attention to the sound of his mild voice, returning a smile to his that eased the worriment trapped behind dull, blue eyes. “n-not really, i don’t think.”
his lips curled up once more at that, in fact there wasn’t a time so far that you hadn’t noticed him without his signature smile. “here, let me help with that,” reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, tapping away at the screen before ultimately turning it back off and settling it back into its place in his pocket.
your phone vibrated beside you, screen lighting up with a bold alert.
[YUUTA OKKOTSU SENT $1000]
before you had a chance to even process the significance of the notification, he started back up,
“i hope i got the right information, wouldn’t want your hard work to get in the wrong hands.” the tilt of his head in tandem with a chuckle resonated sheepishly, and he returned to watch you through his camera lens.
he was right. the money did soothe your nerves.
“i’ve barely done anything yet.” a ditzy giggle followed soon after your sentence, a sound that yuuta couldn’t possibly ignore. you were already starting to pull at his heartstrings.
“and you’ve done it so perfectly,” his praise left you flustered in that moment and you bit down softly on your lower lip to keep your smile at bay. “thank you, yuuta.”
you would’ve never guessed that your introverted classmate had enough experience in him to be such a flirt, or have your cheeks heating up with fervid affection, no less. but maybe yuuta was just like that; maybe this had been natural.
“no, thank you.” his thumb hovered over the record button just as his eyes met your gaze over the brim of the camera. “would you like to start now?”
he took the nod of your head as confirmation to press the record button, finally getting started with the project.
you blinked blankly at him as he tilted his head and flashed a warmhearted grin. “how old are you?” was his first question. he had asked while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. as he did so, you took notice of the silver ring donned around his finger.
he couldn’t have been married, no?
keeping your answer as vague as possible for the sake of matching his comforting warmth, you responded, “twenty-something.” he let out a satisfied huff of air as he nodded and moved onto his next query.
“and what’s your major?”
with the question barely having enough time to linger in the suggestively tense air, he added, “you’re very beautiful, by the way. do you mind taking your dress off for me?”
as much as it should’ve alarmed you, you were swayed by his toothachingly inviting timbre, its gentleness pulling compliancy from you in a matter of a few mere words. you only shook your head, forgoing the short piece of fabric that clung to each curve and dip of your body while your nipples hardened under the glacial, artificial breeze of his home. once the silk pooled at your hips, that, along with your panties were dropped onto the floor, leaving you bare and vulnerable under the camera — and yuuta’s watchful eye.
he swallowed thickly at the sight, remaining as respectful as he could despite the monster growing in his pants; his eyes locked right back onto yours as if he’d get striked down for moving them even a millimeter south. “are you a virgin?” he queried, opting to move his hand from awkwardly at his side to fidgeting with the button at his shirt, ultimately undoing it and revealing another inch of skin at his heated chest.
from the nature of what you had signed yourself up for, you were hesitant to answer his question. of course you needed experience to be a star, and with you lacking the preconceived ability, you could kiss your $1000 goodbye..
yet he looked at you with an expectant gaze. no traces of malice in his eyes or frustration from your quick witted silence, but merely, with patience. and in that moment you couldn’t find it within yourself to lie.
“i am,” out of shame, you curled in on yourself, hoping that the sofa would engulf you, and your feelings, crossing your arms over your bare chest as if it’d create a wall of privacy behind your own humiliation. “is that okay?”
yuuta’s being only grew warmer at the response, you figured he’d be hot to the touch by now, from searing pleasure or unshakeable cordiality, you wouldn’t know. “yeah, that’s okay,” it came out breathier than he would’ve liked, a telltale sign of his aching desire. “that’s more than okay.”
truth be told, he had never met anyone as enchanting as you. you looked up at him with such trust in your eyes that it daunted him — fear that the assurance he wielded from you would shatter beneath him, and he’d be drowning. in a sea of his own wistfulness. now that he had you, he couldn’t let you go.
you were on to make a breathtaking star.
now feeling less coy than before, you relaxed your head into the palm of yuuta’s hand. you hadn’t noticed how long he’d been stroking at your cheek, or when he closed the vexing proximity between the two of you, all that mattered in that moment was the roll of his gentle vocables flowing through your ears and the thumb of his that graciously caressed your cheek.
you came to realize that he was much more handsome this way as your eyes toured his own, then down to the sliver of sweat-sheened skin peeking from underneath the black veil of his shirt, then down to his…
he’s so fucking hard.
confined against his slacks was his cock that leaked an ample amount even while it was untouched. you could make out its silhouette, something girthy, perhaps heavy, but nothing like you’d expect from yuuta. uncharacteristically huge.
“yuuta.” you whispered, mainly to yourself, as your mouth began to water at the sight, and his cheeks dusted pink once he realized what you were fixated upon.
“do you wanna,” he started up but faltered soon after when your lidded gaze flitted back up towards his. never had he felt so weak before, it was as if you’d casted a spell on him. “do you maybe want to—” he paused to avert his own gaze and embarrassment. “—put it in your mouth?”
he could’ve sworn he heard the increase of his heartbeat in his ears when you crinkled your brows, pretty face forming into an even prettier pout.
“but i’ve never—”
he stopped you before you could start, interjecting his own voice of reassurance.
“it’s okay. i’ll guide you,” taking his camera off its stand and moving the rest of the configuration elsewhere, he held it in one hand to better capture the scene unfolding before him. “just try your best for me, okay?”
“okay.” when he returned your concern with a small smile, you took it upon yourself to undo the arrangement of his pants, carefully hooking your finger into the elastic waistband of his briefs and pulling down just enough for his length to spring free.
for what felt like minutes, you marveled at his sheer size, wondering how anyone of his nature could possibly be hiding something like that. it curved upwards with a prominent vein or two running up the underside while it continued to leak, so much so, that you had to collect it all at the tip with your finger.
the tip? flushed the prettiest pink you’d ever witnessed and was as bulbous as it was mushroomed, you knew you’d have a bit of difficulty trying to fit into your mouth. it seemed to twitch under the fanning of your breath to which yuuta let out a whine of pure impatience.
“can i..?” your words trailed off when you involuntarily found yourself pressing chaste kisses along the length of his cock until they met with his sticky tip; a recreated scene from the various porn videos you’d seen. the sensation sent a jolt of palpable pleasure through his being, yuuta’s dark hair curtaining over his eyes while he made a damn good attempt at silencing his moans, with his teeth sunken into his bottom lip.
your eyes kept watch at his wavering expression while you wrapped your hand at the base of his length and began to pump slowly, yet another thing you had learned through the fascinating world of porn.
“suck it,” it was clear to you that yuuta had grown desirously impatient from your teasing, looking down at you with a hint of hunger in his beautiful orbs. “please?”
you took his words as an incentive to finally give him what he’s been leaking for, wrapping gloss-sheened lips around the thick inches of his tip, accommodating for the stretch with a dulcet whine that reverberated deeply within him. had you not been caught up in building the gradual bob of your head, he would’ve kissed you, left you with smeared lips and a tongue that ached for only him upon seeing the sinful sight of innocent eyes fixated on his own. you’re beautiful. truly, to die for.
caught all on tape to be watched over and over again.
at the bliss, yuuta’s lip parted open, alotting for a slur of groans turned whimpers to tumble past. “you- you’re already doing, so good.” he praises, the words floating on his breath. his free hand finds itself back at your face, thumbing the warmth of your hallowed cheek while he captured the moment behind his lens. once you came to a comfortable rhythm, you couldn’t stop yourself from dipping your fingers between your thighs to ease the evergrowing ache in your core. in fact, you’d been like this since the moment yuuta spoke a word to you, lightheaded and malleable — what he’s beginning to love most about you.
your digits collected slick at your entrance, the immeasurable amount of essence that you’d pool providing ample leeway for you to sink three fingers inside, pumping at the same rhythm in which you’re sucking yuuta. soft fingertips curling against your gummy walls weren’t enough, though, and when he had caught notice of your weakening resolve, his hips involuntarily bucked into your mouth.
“sorry, ‘m sorry,” he began, with a choked moan. “just- so close, so fucking close. c-can you take me in deeper?”
the hum of assurance that sounded from you sent vibrations coursing through his cock, from tip to base. had you not been preoccupied with chasing your own high, you would’ve missed the pitchy moan he let out just after. with your palm now pressed up against your clit while you worked in tandem to pleasure the nub and your greedy hole, you attempted to swallow another stubborn inch of him.
simultaneous with the bobbing of your head, he matched your pace, abdomen flexing when the white-hot pleasure became too much and he could feel it in his ears. he wanted so badly to throw his head back, completely lose himself in bliss, but he had a job to do. he wouldn’t dare let the sight of your glassy lidded eyes and glossy lips struggling to wrap themselves around the stretch of his dick go unfilmed, unseen.
as his tip continued to prod the back of your throat and your fingers aided you in relieving the discomfort from your cunt, you found yourself just dangling off the dangerous edge of your release, strokes away from making a mess — and yuuta did too.
it wasn’t long until his head started spinning, legs got weaker, and his core coiled tighter; all the signs of a mindblowing orgasm, and blew his mind, you did. “baby- y/n, if you keep doing that- i might cum.” what he was referring to was the way you fondled his balls in the warmth of your soft hands, yet another trick you had learned from porn. “i don’t wanna cum in your mouth but if you—,”
a jumbled slew of curses flowed from his lips as he did the inevitable, shot his load deep down your throat, gently thrusting his cock in shallow strokes to jettison every last remaining drop. the taste on your tongue was nothing like you’d be warned of before. yuuta wasn’t bitter, he went down easy.
hell, you’d use his cum as a condiment for desserts if you could.
in a matter of moments, your own high had washed over you like cold water over a heated body, much needed and refreshing. once he hesitantly pulled out from the heat of your mouth, cock still hard and twitching for more, he gently pushed back strands of loose hair behind your ear.
“can i see?”
you held out your cream-slickened fingers, sopping with your juices as yuuta proceeded to catch how they dripped on camera. he then took your palm, with the cadence of a knight kissing the back of a princess’s hand, and slipped the soiled digits into his mouth. his tongue lavved around your index and middle fingers while he hummed satisfactorily at your taste. “you’re just as sweet as i imagined.” he smiled, finding amusement in your post-orgasmic, dazed state.
“do you do this with a lot of other girls, yuuta?” you queried, taking the time to scan your eyes over his face. it was as if he seemed to get more attractive as your time with him went on. he tilted his head slightly, finding your question endearing. “you’re my first, actually.” yuuta responded softly, as if his normal speaking voice would be too heavy on your delicate ears.
you jumped at the chance to tease him as he did you, placing your thumb back over the slit of his hard-on and lightly rubbing; which resonated within yuuta as a tonal mewl. a little smile pulled at your lips when you got your perfect reaction. “can you be my first?”
“i’d love to be,” he took your request with unadulterated honor as if he’d been tasked by the deities above to serve you. “just- just lay back for me. i promise i’ll take good care of you.”
and that you did; conforming to his call of request with such compliance it made his heart swell. you had positioned your body to rest languidly against the seat of the sofa, shaky legs hesitant to spread fully while your hand roamed up your sternum to find solace in kneading your tits.
he couldn’t deny how beautiful you looked, laid out for him as such. how had he been so lucky to be the only one to have the opportunity to marvel at the scene? with a steady hand, he faintly trails his hand up the expanse of your inner thigh, a silent beckon for you to open your legs wider. involuntarily so, your body had accepted his presence and allowed for the spreading of your thighs.
what you’d come to notice with yuuta was that he was watchful, observant. he seemed to pick up on every detail, even the minuscule bits that were most likely to fly over anyone else’s head, had been taken into account. it’s probably why he’s immensely proficient at what he does. not once had he allowed himself to miss the labored heaving of your chest, or the sheen of sweat thinly coating your body — the twitching of your clit when he stroked featherlight touches at the nub. he couldn’t call himself a true cameraman then.
his fingers had collected remnants of your previous orgasm before they worked in tandem, both middle and ring, to prod at your sensitive hole, slowly sinking themselves in. it was almost embarrassing how quickly your greedy cunt swallowed him in, as if it’d been waiting for his touch for years now. “y-yuuta, ‘m still sensitive.” you crooned in response to his digits exploring your cavern, plush walls gripping him with such tautness that he’d found it difficult to even curl his fingers.
his own mind spun (and cock leaked) at the thought of that same warmth around his length, and when you called his name, all he could think about was how pretty you’d sound moaning it. he wouldn’t mind if you were sonorous, if the neighbors would hear, if inumaki who lived downstairs would come knocking with a mouthful of complaints, if the whole world knew his name; because in that moment, yuuta okkotsu was yours.
yuuta okkotsu was in love.
after some shallow pumping, enough to have your legs attempting to enclose around his arm, yuuta had pulled his digits out and replaced the lost sensation with the fat tip of his cock stroking your slit up and down.
“i’m gonna put it in, okay? if you want me to stop, tell me. if i'm going too fast or slow, let me know.”
he perused your face for a hint of an answer, seemingly nothing going on behind your vacant, large eyes. your initial response was curt, an ode to the simplistic nature of your mind. “mhm.”
how endearing you were to him, just a unadorned reaction weakening his being, causing his heart to figuratively crumble within its confines against his ribcage. he had searched for a heartier answer, something tangible to hold on to, because, lord knows how terrible he’d feel if he took your indication the wrong way. “can you be vocal for me, please?”
you nodded your head. “i’ll let you know, yuuta.”
with a carefulness that only came from the most benign of beings, he had sunken the first inch of himself into your awaiting heat.
he was paused when your hand dashed to his lower abdomen, futilely pressing against the skin.
“wait—” you huffed wantonly. “—‘s too big.”
his eyes wavered with concern, hidden under the veil of pure arousal. in yuuta’s case he had dreamed of a compliment as self fulfilling as yours, for his thoughts of being average were shattered upon first inch. “should i stop?”
you shook your head, reveling in the light of his attentivity towards you and your body. “no,” you moved your hand from his abdomen. “don’t stop.”
one of his arms rested beside your head, helping to prop him up over your body while he dropped his head down to watch the way your bodies connected. gradually, the sight of his length slowly sinking inside, stretching you out further and further until he was in to the hilt flooded his vision. yuuta had caught on to your labored gasps, merely growing harder from your honeyed voice like music to his ears.
he then lifted his head, strands of inky, out-of-place tresses falling over his face and partially covering the depth of lingering eyes, that lingered for a second too long, causing that shuddering sensation you had once felt when you first met him to reappear. he held his camcorder beside his face, an all too cheerful grin masked over his features. “i’m all in!”
creepy.
there was no doubt that you hadn’t felt full. he practically spilled over with how much girth he possessed and throbbed innately within your walls. the swell of your tummy from just how deep he was, was enough to tear away at his composure and drag his length back before driving his hips in at a force unrecognizable to him. the yelp you had let out from his eager thrust dwindled into a blissful moan. “sorry, so sorry.” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off the faultless assortment of breathtaking features that was your face, eyebrows creased together, parted lips and eyes squeezed closed as if you’d been focused solely on the pleasure he was giving you.
his next thrust stroked softer than its predecessor, having no remnants of eagerness but instead, the nuance of a man that’d been simply smitten.
the meticulousness of his ministrations coursed through your body wondrously, each push and pull lathered in lust, savored to be remembered for the rest of his time on earth. it was as if he’d known your body for years, knew every dip and fold, every swell and mast, aware of what exactly it took to leave your body hungry for his touches.
you’d grown comfortable in the pace at which he set, your mind hazing over each time the blunt tip grazed along your gspot. he peppered kisses along your jaw and down your sternum, the fanning of his warm breath against your chest doing the minimum in stiffening the peaks of your breasts. shootable footage forgotten, yuuta took your mound into his mouth, teeth gently rolling against your nipple which caused you to tighten around his cock in response, the sweetest mewl he’s ever heard from you tumbling from your throat.
“at least take me on a date first, yuuta..” the wittiness of your voice had earned a stifled smile from him, finding utmost admiration in the suggestion. he’ll be sure to take you up on your offer, just as you had done for him.
when you felt the familiar coil within you starting to build up once more, you dipped your hand down to rub at your clit in tandem with the increasing vigor of his strokes. the sensation was all too foreign to you, too pleasurable that you couldn’t keep your sounds at bay. “‘m so close, g-gonna cum!” you had warned, yuuta pulled away from your tit with a soft pop. he chose to rest his head at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, mindlessly chanting the words like a mantra.
“i love you, i love you,” his pace faltered, growing sloppier by the second. “love you, love you so much.”
intoxicated by your heat, your scent, just you being you, and being so perfect — yuuta was pussydrunk. incredibly so. never in his life had he ever felt as high as you made him. you were an angel, sent to him from heaven, to defile and mark.
quickly, your release surged through you in torrents of ecstasy, nothing that you’ve experienced before, coating yuuta’s cock in the glorious essence of you. “cumming!” you cry, to no avail particularly since yuuta wasn’t wholeheartedly aware of the situation at hand. his mind was clouded with you, just as you were full of him, wincing in the aftershocks of your fervent orgasm and convulsing around his length with need.
it wasn’t long before his own ununified thrusts came to a sudden close, signifying the warm spurts of cum painting your insides, filling you entirely to the brim and leaking down your ass from riding out his high.
“god, i love you.” he whined, pressing faint kisses to your neck, unable to peel himself away from your fervid body. coming to your senses, his words finally resonated for you. “we only just met.”
he pulled himself up, opting to look down at your flushed face with a vague hint of confusion on his face as he tilted his head. “have we?”
“we have.” you nodded.
to yuuta, he’s known you his whole life. you were the light of his existence, the fire in his heart. had he managed to confuse you with someone else? surely, that wasn’t the case.
once he pulled out of you, he made sure to capture the moment that you leaked his seed on film, but in that time, borrowed jealousy had filled his soul. he couldn’t share the tape as he had planned, no one else deserved to see you in the same way he did. no one.
he tucked himself back into his pants, leaving you bare and oozing for just one second to fetch a warm wet rag to clean you up with. when he came back, you noticed just how chipper he’d gotten, if that were even possible. “you were amazing,” he smiled, gently wiping your folds pristine. “i’m so grateful you came to me.” the smile you returned matched his own, “thank you, you were- really good too.”
he perked up, eyes moving from between your thighs to your face. “really?” and when you nodded to him, you could see the apparent relief flow within his being. “you know,” he started. “i’m very interested in you.”
you tilt your head, jutting your lips in a cute pout. “interested, how?”
the camcorder that now resided on his coffee table, unpresumebly documenting the scene on display was picked up by yuuta, and turned off. he grinned softly, eyes shutting from his ear to ear smile.
“may i take you on a date?”
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be-good-to-bugs · 1 year
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why
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cameronspecial · 1 month
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I saw you were looking for some angst ideas lmao
So rafe and reader are together. Loves her more than life but his addiction gets in the way of that. One night they have a fuming argument and she doesn’t talk to him for a few days. He then makes a plan for them to talk about it somewhere private at nighttime, but when she shows up he’s not there. She waits for him for a while then she gets attacked by the rafes dealers because he owes them money and she was the next bet. Rafe finds her and he’s freaking out but she won’t let him near her and she blames him. You can choose how this ending goes or if you even want to write this but this has been on my mind
You Deserve Better
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Drug Use, Swearing, Stabbing, Blood, and Death
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 2.1K
Masterlist
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The centre of Rafe’s life wasn’t always the white powder that tumbled around the little Ziploc bag that lined his pockets. His centre is supposed to snort or wheeze a little whenever she laughs, refusing to use her inhaler because she doesn’t want to embarrass him. It will stay up past her bedtime because she is in a flow with her work. His sun crosses her eyeballs whenever he presses a kiss on her nose because she knows it would make him chuckle. Y/N Y/L/N used to be his rock and now, all because of an accident, she isn’t anymore. That is something not a lot of people know. They assume his addiction started because he was a bored rich kid who had the money to spare. However, in reality, it began with a torn ACL. One wrong shift of his leg and his football career was over. At first, the oxycodone was only to manage the pain from the ACL surgery. He had the hope that he could recover the way he needed to get back on the field, but then the news came that he wasn’t progressing the way his doctor wanted… That was when the problem started, suddenly the drug he was taking to help ease his physical pain became the one to take away his mental pain too. The pain of not being able to play football. The pain of missing out. The pain of not knowing where his life was going.
Don’t get him wrong, Y/N was by his side the whole time, except a person can’t be everything to someone else and he needed a therapist. He just wasn’t ready to admit that. It was only when he stopped being prescribed oxycodone that he turned to cocaine to fill the mental hole the prescription used to be for.
———
Rafe’s blown pupils are hidden by his eyelids as he lies back on the couch. Y/N is still out with her friends, so he isn’t sleeping. Not when she is not at home. The front door opening and closing makes him jerk forward. His eyelids are just a sliver because the light from the ceiling is too bright for him. Her footsteps approach the living room and the large sigh she lets out makes her arrival known. “You didn’t do the dishes,” she states, her hand resting on her jut-out hip. “And the hole in the hallway is still there.” Yesterday, Rafe, in a high state, accidentally made a hole in the wall when trying to put up a picture frame for her. He promised her before she left for work this morning that he would get what he needed to fix it this morning and in the afternoon, he would fix it. However, before he could get himself to the store, he saw a post from one of his old football teammates, who went pro and he spiralled. 
He doesn’t mean to roll his eyes, yet it happens and this causes her to let out another huff. “I didn’t get a chance to go to the store,” he grumbles like he didn’t care. He really did though. He wanted to be able to do something that simple for the girl who meant everything to him, except his mind seemed to disagree with his heart. It is easier to pretend it doesn’t bother him. Her eyes narrow in on the residue of powder on their coffee table, “Let me guess, you got your nose caught up in some business. Rafe, you promised me you wouldn’t do that shit at home.” He can’t keep looking at the way tears start to appear because he knows how worried she gets when he does drugs, always scared he might overdose. He looks anywhere but at her. “Don’t get on my ass about this again Y/N. You don’t know what I am dealing with,” he argues.
“I don’t and that’s the problem. You need to talk to someone about how you are feeling because you are going to put yourself in an early grave if you keep doing what you are doing now.”
“Seriously, we are going to argue about this again because I didn’t do the dishes or fix a little hole in the wall.”
“No, we are going to argue about it because you aren’t the man I fell in love with anymore and I don’t think if I can do this anymore. I want to be by your side to help you get better but if you don’t want to, then I don’t know if I can be here forever.”
Her words hit his ears at the same intensity as they would if he were sitting next to an airplane engine. They had arguments about his sobriety so many times before, yet those fights always had the underlying understanding that she would be there to help him. She never once mentioned the possibility of her leaving him because she truly did want to help him find his sobriety. His mouth falls open to talk. No words come out. How can he possibly swear that he wants to get better when he isn’t at the self-realization point in his journey? She takes the silence as an admittance that getting clean isn’t on his mind. “I need some time apart. I’m going to sleep at Deliah’s place tonight,” she informs, turning to leave. He doesn’t stop her; he wants to give her the space she needs in hopes that she realizes she can hold on for a little bit longer. The only word he can respond with is “Okay”, right before she closes the door behind her. 
———
She hasn’t answered any of his texts and calls. Her night of taking some space turned into a week and it is driving him crazy. Her non-existence return may have to do with his unwillingness to agree to go to a therapist. After the thousandth attempt at calling her, she finally answers the call. “Normally, when a person doesn’t pick up the call, it means they don’t want to talk to you.” He lets out an internal sigh, “I know, I just need to talk to you. Please, can we meet at our spot, Sunshine?” She could never resist the usage of his nickname for her. “Okay, meet me there in an hour,” she agrees. The call drops right after her response and he gives himself a small smile. Not only does he get to see her again, he gets to try to get her back. 
———
By the time she realizes she is being followed, she is alone under the bleachers, where she and Rafe used to spend their time in high school. It was where they found themselves when they didn’t feel like going to class or they needed to get away from the chaos after his team won a game. It was the place she fell in love with him in because even before they were dating when they were just friends, it was their spot. She spins around at the sound of grass being pressed down by a set of feet, ready to scold him for being late. It isn’t Rafe as she expected; instead, an average-height man with a dangerous air that scares her. The gleam behind his eyes tells her the bald man is up to no good, which is confirmed when he pulls out the hunting knife from his hoodie pocket. She steps back in an attempt to get away from him, but her back hits against a metal beam. The man rushes toward her and presses the sharp edge against the soft skin of her neck. “Your boy owes me money and since he is taking too long to get it back to me, I thought I would hold onto something precious to him until I get what I want,” the man explains with a wicked grin. She refuses to show him fear and looks him dead in the eyes, “Rafe’s dealer is Barry so I have no idea what you are talking about.” “He stopped going to Barry because Barry started getting on his case about how much he is using,” the male growled, not enjoying the bite to her bark. She chuckles like a maniac, “When Rafe comes, he is going to beat your ass.” “Shut up, Bitch.” Angered by his words, her knees find their target between his legs. 
He lets out a howl and doubles over in pain. She uses this as her opportunity to attempt an escape, trying to run past him. Unfortunately, he reaches out to stop her and this results in the blade driving into her abdomen. A gasp passes her lips, causing the dealer to look in her direction. “Shit.” His eyes bloom open and immediately begins to pull it out. “No. Don’t pu-,” she warns, except it is too late. The weapon is already out and he is running toward the exit. She hunches forward and stumbles back against the beam, pressing her hand to her stomach to keep from bleeding out, feeling as though she has been punched. Calling 911 seems to be the logical answer; however, when she goes for her phone, she finds it broken on the floor. She thinks about going to her car and is stopped by the feeling of even more blood gushing out of the wound as she tries to push off the beam. It doesn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. 
“Sunshine,” rings through her ears. Her dizziness makes it difficult to focus on the speaker, yet she knows who it is based on the nickname. She slides down the beam because her legs lose all their strength. Rafe rushes to her side and kneels beside her. “Shit, Sunshine. It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. I’m going to call the police. They are going to fix everything,” his voice breaks as his hand joins hers to stop the flow of his blood. She can hear him relaying the information to the dispatcher, but her body is telling her something Rafe isn’t going to be ready to hear. He places his phone on the floor so both of his hands can press on her abdomen. “They’re coming, Sunshine, just hold on. I promise. I’ll be here the whole time.” Her handshakes as she raises to his cheek, staining it with her blood. Her tears water at the edge of her bottom eyelid, “I don’t think I’m going to make it.” His head shakes vigorously. “Don’t say tha-.” She cuts him off, “Can you please just listen to me?” He nods to let her continue. “It was your dealer. I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad. Just to make sure he gets arrested. But I need you to know that you are more than just your addiction and football. I know you don’t think so, but you are and if you just realize that, then you will see the man that I fell in love with.” “I don’t deserve that though. Look at all the shit I put you through. You deserve more than a druggie as a boyfriend,” he cries, holding her hand against his skin.
She smiles up at him, “You deserve more too. You deserve to be truly happy. You deserve to try to find a new purpose in life. I want that for you.” “How can I find all of that if you are gone?” he questions. Her breathing begins to become laboured, “You’ll find yourself and once you grieve, you’ll find someone who can help heal your broken heart. That’s how.”
“I don’t want anyone else. I just want you. Please, don’t go. Will you please stay if I promise to get sober?” 
“I will be with you every step of the way.”
The words tear his heart in two. He knows what it means. She truly doesn’t think she is coming out of this alive. “I want you to see me get better though. Please. Just hang on a little longer.” His tears cloud his vision. When he doesn’t hear a response, he wipes his eyes to get a closer look at her. The world goes dark at the sight of her glassy eyes only reflecting back his face with no recognition or life behind them. The rise and fall of her chest have stopped. The universe decides to answer his calls for help at a cruel moment as he hears the siren finally approach. There is no use in their hurry if the person who needs saving is the one to do it because Rafe isn’t going to let her last words die with her. He is going to get better, not only for her but for him too. He deserves more than a life of chasing his pain away with drugs and he is determined to achieve that.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura
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tteokdoroki · 9 months
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Aali!!!! I was gonna put this in the tags of your training scenario but got shy :(
but i immediately thought of Gojo!! And like he's not surprised you flipped him over due to you're strength, he has no doubts about how strong you are but it's the fact that he trusts you so much he unconsciously turned off his infinity for you <3 so now he's like !!!!!! because what!!!! but also you're on top of him and you look so pretty so now he's short circuiting double the amount!!!!
Like !!!!!!!! my brain is going crazy thinking about it - 🍓
☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. neither strong, nor weak - just in love.
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about. combat training with gojo makes him realise just how strong you really are. inspired by this silly post i made yesterday, it wasn’t meant to become a whole thing but it did and now it’s…sad. im sorry. also pls don’t be shy ily :(
warnings. minors, ageless and blank blogs do not interact. sfw, angst, mutual pining, slightly unrequited romance, mentions of violence (they’re combat training), death mention, canon!verse, gn!reader.
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you’re pissed. 
over the years satoru’s seen a colourful array of emotions splayed against your features. he’s seen joy, laughter, happiness — all of which are his favourites. he wishes he could have seen them more. but also sadness, anguish and a pain so deep he felt like he was dying right alongside you. 
he’s died once before, nearly, but it never could have compared to the feeling he got when you looked at him with pure hatred. because gojo had been the one to hurt you, then. 
you’ve never been one to hold grudges, you’re too good of a person for the world to hold anyone in such a negative light for way too long — but when you do experience these emotions, you feel them all too much and all too hard and everyone can see it too. maybe that’s why gojo picks up on your spike of anger so easily during training today, it could be the sick reason behind how much he’s enjoying you being pissed off too.  
because you wear your heart on your sleeve and your emotions on your face, so gojo knows exactly how he makes you feel — all of the time. “c’mon sweetheart, don’t lose focus. don’t you wanna beat me?” he taunts you, a cocky smile stretched over his lips as he dodges each of your blows, though the shades over his eyes hide the admiration he has for you.  
“fuck you.” you spit back harshly, as if the words scald your tongue. shifting your weight onto your back foot, you take a chance and swing your leg up high, just narrowly missing the silvery mop of satoru’s hair where his infinity goes up to protect him. 
for gojo, it’s easy for things to lose their meaning, slipping away from him like fine grains of sand through his fingers. at times when he should, he finds himself without a care — it’s easier to walk through life not giving a shit than to tie emotions to actions, people and places. if the strongest cares too much then people have to die. that’s why the wielder of the six eyes holds you to such high regards. you’re strong because you’re able to care — no matter what’s in your path or who might stand in your way, and what they might make you feel, you are able to be strong for those in need. 
you feel what satoru can’t. 
“i’ve been waiting all day for that, honey.” he quips back, lifting his shades just a little to bare the full brunt of your aura through his technique. “c’mon, let’s put in a little more effort, shall we? if i were a curse, you’d be dead by now.” 
everything gojo sees is magnified by one hundred, he could detect the smallest of changes no matter how close or far he was from you — and being able to witness frustration build up in your core along with stacks of your cursed energy elicits a pleasant reaction out of him. his head flops to the side, almost bored, despite how the corner of his lips quirk up into a lopsided grin. satoru loves how you’re just teeming with anger, from the top of your head right down to your toes — spreading into your fingertips as your cursed energy balls powerfully around your fist. 
and even though he catches it between his larger hands, the thin invisible veil of his infinity quite literally stopping you from killing gojo — he can still feel that you’re pouring your all into this, into him. even though you’re tired and dripping with sweat while your muscles burn so hot you fear they might melt away, you’re still trying. you still won’t give up. you’re still stronger than he ever could be. 
and he’s practically a god. 
“you would be the dead one if you didn’t have the cheat code to life.” rolling your shoulders, you step back with a menacing snarl and start again — fists flying in the direction of the six eyes as you’re  fuelled by the passion of taking him down. making him hurt. people like gojo piss you off, their existence serving as a reminder that your life is not promised and every step you take is a sacrifice to help them live on. though deep down, you know that you don’t hate him for it. it’s nothing that he could have helped. 
once again, satoru snags your fist before it can even leave a mark on him and draws you in by his infinity. for a moment, you’re scared that he might use it to repel you, harm you  — he catches the flicker of fear in your eyes before you steel your nerves and keep on fighting even as he grabs at your wrists, sweeps your feet out from underneath you and pins you to the hard ground below. 
leaning over your frame as you squirm beneath him, gojo tuts down at you in faux disappointment. “so sad, and here i was, thinking that you were strong enough to beat me.” he says, cruelly. “give up already, princess.” 
in response, you bare your fangs and dig your nails into his wrists — not letting up. “i’ll give up when you’ve killed me.” 
that makes satoru falter. 
it’s only training, really, it shouldn’t even be that serious. but his mind can’t shake the idea of one day sacrificing you for the good of others. for everyone satoru gojo has ever cared about, there has been a day where he has to choose between letting them meet their end and protecting the jujutsu world. that’s the way it’s always been and always will be. it’s not that he thinks you’re weak, that you can’t handle yourself — you’ve proven yourself capable of that time and time again. you’re strong, physically and resilient in your emotions, mentally but you’re only human.
and humans don’t last as long as gods do. 
seizing the opportunity at hand, you squeeze your thighs around satoru’s slender waist to switch your situation and rip your wrists free from his steady iron grip. so now, your positions are reversed, and he’s the one with his arms above his head — exposing all of his vulnerable vital organs. he could have easily kept himself in control and have you squirming below him for hours, but he lets you. he trusts you enough to let you prove yourself to him — just so he can have that moment, that lets you know that the great satoru gojo is not immune to the likes of you. 
he is weak for you. 
his infinity slips away unconsciously just as his back his the the floor with a dull thud — wisps of his snow white hair flying about the place with the motion. satoru lays still beneath you, unmoving like a tree rooted to its spot, and peers up at you through the thickness of his lashes. he watches how you try to control your surprise and how shocked you are at yourself for pinning him down — truth being told that if he didn’t have infinity to hide behind, if he was human, you probably would have been able to from the start. 
“think again,” you breathe, the dip in your voice doing nothing to help satoru’s crazed mind and how insane he is for you. “princess.”
you’re so pretty like this. your eyes are frenzied and and astonished, your chest heaves with every breath you take in desperation to fill your lungs with air and your skin shines with light perspiration from your training. and even then, to satoru, you’re the most precious form of life he’s ever seen. a rarity amongst unpolished gems. every emotion you have right now is laid bare against your features, coursing through your veins and it’s because of him. 
it’s nice like this, to feel weak in the knees and in the heart for someone. to be able to feel your pulse rather than see it as nothing but a flicker of a blue flame with blue eyes. 
he wants to touch you, subconsciously reaching out to brush a thumb over your cheek. “you’re so beautiful.” satoru whispers, his voice low and uneven — causing goosebumps to rise over the expanse of your skin and a soft gasp to lay wet on your lips. 
exasperated tears begin to well up in your eyes, sitting pretty in your lower lash line. you’re so angry at gojo and how you think he sees you but you don’t dare to push his hand away, instead turning your head to look elsewhere. you don’t want him to see you cry. 
“turn your infinity back on. i could kill you.” 
“you’re beautiful,” satoru repeats adamantly, not caring if he sounds like a broken record. “you’re strong. stronger than me.” you’re pissed at him too , for looking down at you. for all the things he’s said that hurt you without meaning to. your grip on his wrists loosen along with your hold on your emotions. “i wish i could be weak enough to love you.”
“i said turn it back on, gojo.” 
“look at me, please.” 
“gojo.” 
“please.” 
your shoulders sag with a shaky exhale, all of the fight you had leaving you as you sit on top of him — looking down at him. “what?” comes your quiet mumble, not daring to flinch away as his thumb traces over your bottom lip without the gentle hum of his infinity.
“i love you.” 
if you were at any other point in time, satoru’s words would have had you melting over him like butter in a pan. you would have been weak enough to say it back and let him overwhelm you with longing. because if this were any other point in time, you would have needed satoru gojo like you needed air to breathe. like you needed him to live. 
but things are different now, there’s a concrete wall built around your heart to fortify it and you’ve grown to become immune to him. like gojo says, you are strong and while you know that you always have been — hearing him admit that makes you realise you don’t want to prove your worth to him anymore. 
you would much rather have him kill you instead. 
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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moonhoures · 6 months
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Kiss Me Thru The Phone
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🕷️ kinktober — day 23: phone sex 🕸️
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pairing: felix (stray kids) + reader (afab/fem)
genre: idol!au, smut
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, phone sex, masturbation
word count: ~950
synopsis: sure, having an idol bf isn’t exactly ideal, and having phone sex with said bf at 4am is definitely less than ideal. but you make it work 👍🏻
a/n: sorry again for the delay. hope you guys enjoy 💋
posted: october 27, 2023
kinktober masterlist
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Dialing . . .
That word taunted you for the third time as you waited for your boyfriend to answer the phone. He was several thousand miles away from you, in a different timezone, so he was just getting ready for bed. Meanwhile, you had set an alarm for 4 a.m. so that you could tell him goodnight. Though, that was starting to seem like it wasn’t going to happen as your third attempt to call him caught his voicemail. You decided then to give up. Maybe he already fell asleep, you thought as you let your phone fall back onto the empty space beside you where his body would usually be snoring softly.
But just as your eyes were closing, your phone buzzed. You picked it up, the lit-up screen showing his contact photo.
“Sorry I missed your call, baby. I was in the shower,” Felix said once you answered.
“S’okay, how was your show tonight?”
“It was fucking amazing. The fans were so loud and their energy was great all night,” you could picture the wide smile on his freckled face as he spoke. The thought made you smile.
“That’s awesome. I can’t wait to see your show in Australia soon.”
“Trust me, it’s all I’ve been thinking about. I haven’t been home in so long, and I can’t wait to have you meet everybody.”
“Not too much longer,” you reminded him. You let out a groan as you stretched yourself across the bed, and your boyfriend laughed softly.
“Tired?”
“Tired? Why would I be tired? It’s just four in the morning,” you replied sarcastically.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t be tired, but I understand. I’ll let you get some sleep, babe.”
“Wait, why’s that?” you asked, but you knew Felix well enough to know exactly what he meant.
“I just . . . miss you a lot. And I’ve got this room all to myself, unlike yesterday,” he explained, making your heartbeat speed up. Your body was heating up at just the thought of him, so you peeled the sheets back.
“You miss me?” you repeated, “How much, Lix?”
“A lot, baby. I’ve thought about you all day.”
“What have you been thinking about?” your hands moved over your body, fingertips gliding over your bare thighs and up your stomach. Your skin broke out in goosebumps.
“Coming home to you in a few days,” his voice was a little deeper than normal, the lust evident in his timbre, “Wanna spend every second with you.”
“You will,” you agreed, hands sliding under your shirt to cup your breast, “You can have me for as long as you want.”
“Yeah? Can’t wait to fuck you when I get home. Been dreaming about your pussy for weeks,” you swore you could hear his hand pumping his cock on the other end of the line. You instantly became wet at the mental image of him in some nice hotel bed, fisting himself to the thought of fucking you. Having his way with you in your bed, your scent filling his nose. Your lips on his. His hands holding onto you tight, wordlessly promising to not let you go anytime soon. “Are you touching yourself too, _______?”
“Yes,” you squeaked out, hand sinking under the band of your underwear to play with the space between your thighs. Your skin was slick under your touch, making it easy to rub and massage your sensitive clit.
“Good, get nice and wet for me. Can you do that?”
“Mhm,” you couldn’t focus on answering, you put it all into aiming for pleasure. You were in a rhythm now, and it felt good. Not as good as when Felix touched you, but it would do for the circumstances.
“I’m so hard right now,” he confessed, his breath becoming heavy, “All for you. Can’t stop thinking about how good you would feel around me. How tight you would be. How wet.”
“Felix,” you moaned, dipping your fingers into your hole, thrusting two of them in and out. You wondered if he could hear the sounds of it from his side, but you got your answer sooner than you thought when he let out a moan.
“Fuck, say my name again, baby.”
“Felix,” you cooed his name, legs fidgeting as the pleasure between them grew. You heard a faint disgruntled noise on the other end, and a smirk sat on your lips at the idea of him cumming from just you moaning his name. “It feels so good. Wish it was your fingers.”
A groan sounded from his end, “I know, baby, me too. Are you gonna cum?”
“Mhm.”
“Good, cum all over those pretty fingers. Let me hear you,” his voice came out breathlessly. You could tell he was close too. A few minutes passed and the sounds your boyfriend was making on the other end of the call were making you go crazy. Your body was buzzing with anticipation for an orgasm that was getting so close you could practically feel it already. Your muscles tensed and moans ripped from your throat.
Unbeknownst to each other, you both came at the same time. Your thigh twitched from the impact before your legs fell limp. Felix’s hand continued to milk his softening erection, now coated in his own cum. He was really thankful he decided to put a towel down just in case, because he did not want to have to face the hotel maids in the morning with such obvious stains on his duvet cover.
“That was a nice way to get to sleep,” he mumbled to you through his post-orgasm haze.
“And a nice way to wake up.”
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— taglist #1
@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite @k-drizzle @iguanas-world
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beforeimdeceased · 8 months
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✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚ bbf dealer!ellie
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a/n: there’s three different versions of this and i fought with myself about posting one so here you go! credit to @seattlesellie who i believe brought bbf!ellie to tumblr!
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑
‧₊˚ ⋅ જ⁀➴๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑ Vacationing before the stress of your college classes fully consumed you sounded good at first. Then your older brother decided he wanted to come, and bring his best friend. Ellie Williams, who according to you, is the most annoying person on Earth. She never failed to eat up all your snacks, purposely hide around the house with your brother to jumpscare you, and steal your things to make you chase her around the house to get them back.
This has gone on for what feels like forever. Since the very day they’d met 10 years ago, and they’ve been a menacing duo ever since. And to top it off, she was his supplier. That meant she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. That also meant that while you were enjoying the shade and splayed out on the chaise, she was purposely canon balling in order to splash you. You pull your sunglasses off to shoot her a glare. “Ellie, don’t make me drown you.”
“Threats like that’ll get the cops called on you.” She retorts, arms crossed on the edge of the pool. Her swim trunks puffed in the water as her eyes gleam in the sun. The water was dripping down her freckled face and you’d never admit it but she looked so fucking pretty.
“Where’s my brother?” You change the subject, eyes wandering around the pool. It seemed to just be you and an elderly couple. One playing sudoku while the other flips through a newspaper. Ellie pushes herself up out of the pool, bikini top displaying a playful array of space themed patterns. Something she’d paired with plain black swim trunks. She sits on the chaise next to you, arms on her knees. “He went to go smoke.”
“Are you guys going to be high the entire week?” You ask. “You both ate all of my snacks yesterday when you got the munchies.” Ellie is rarely ever sweet to you, especially not when your brother around, so this is the rare occasion she says something that doesn’t make you want to roll your eyes to the far side of your head.
“Yeah, sorry about that. We’ll buy you some more…” You look at her, raising an eyebrow, and she rolls her eyes. “What? I can’t be nice?”
“You can, it’s just that you rarely ever choose to be. Not to me atleast.” You turn your head when you hear your phone chime with a notification and don’t notice her face fall.
It’s your brother informing you, and telling you to inform Ellie, that he will not be returning because he’d met up with some friends he hadn’t seen in a while. You shoot Ellie an apologetic look, but she reassures you that she’s his best friend and none of the people he’s met up with can compare. It makes you laugh as you begin packing up your things and walking back to the vacation house.
You’d thought that Ellie would stay but she goes with you. The short walk is silent. You pretend not to see her eyes wander, and she pretends not to see yours do the same. Your hands brushing up against each other but never intertwining.
You both can’t contain it anymore when you reach the house. She nearly pushes you down trying to get you inside, before cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss. You grab at her hips wanting her closer, and it causes her to moan into your mouth. Her knee pushing between your legs and brushing up against your cunt.
“We’re gonna have to tell him eventually.” You breathe after breaking away from the kiss. She looks at you, soft green eyes piercing into yours. Triangling your face in a dazed and hungry stare. “I know. Fuck—” You cut her off with another kiss and almost go weak with the way her hands trail down your body. Fingers pulling at the fabric of your swimsuit. They rub at your clothed cunt while her mouth finds it way to your neck, trailing kisses and leaving rough hickies. She felt depraved, but she’d grown to need you. To need to hear you cry out her name.
The moment is sweet. Your heavy breathing and her soft whispers of “You like that?” and “Want me to touch you here? Use your words baby.” You can feel yourself growing close, legs barely keeping you upright when the sound of a key in the door stops you both in your tracks. It’s too late to run and hide, you hear a murmur of voices as it pushes you both. One of them distinctly being your brother’s.
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nhlclover · 7 months
Text
wish you were sober pt.2 | mark estapa
summary: mark works up the courage to finally tell you his long kept feelings. part one here!
request: yes / no
warnings: the second part to a previous story, i recommend reading the first part before this one. semi proof read, couple instances of cursing, little bit of angst + fluff
a/n: sitting here pretending he didn't just get hurt yesterday😃 also sorry for lack of posting it’s midterms and i’ve got lots of school work so bear with me!
word count: 1.08k
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It had been a full day and a half since you’d heard anything from Mark. Although you had told him off, saying you were done, you had hoped he would’ve come to some sort of senses sooner. You missed him. You missed having him in your life, to the point you wished you’d said nothing. You honestly would’ve rathered staying in your limbo of friendship as long as that meant keeping Mark in your life.
The past couple of days had been miserable for you as you were stuck in your dorm room, doing homework and getting ahead on readings. Normally, over a weekend, you would have a hockey game to go to. You’d watch Mark play, and hopefully watch Michigan win. But you couldn’t bring yourself to go to Saturday’s game, so you instead watched online from the comfort of your bed, missing Mark's hold.
When your phone buzzed, you’d expected a text from you and your friends' group chat. Your heart did a leap when you read Mark's name on your screen. A text from him asked if he could come over. You wondered if it was just going to be Mark pretending as if nothing happened, as per usual. The smart and right thing to do would be to say no or ignore his text. But the prospect of having Mark back, hanging out with him in your dorm again, made you blindly pick up your phone and agree, telling him to come over. 
He was there within a few minutes, a soft knock signifying his arrival. When you opened the door, his appearance was not one you’d expected. His normal smile-dressed face, eyes lighting up with excitement even if it was just another normal day, was absent. He looked somber.
You stepped aside, allowing the boy to walk into your room. He sat in your desk chair, leaning back. The space was void of any words.
You stay by the door, wanting to maintain the distance between the two of you. You know that if you’re within reaching distance and you fall into his arms, Mark won’t need to say anything because you’ll succumb to his touch.
“How was your weekend?” He asks. It’s suddenly as you feared, with Mark brushing past what had happened on Friday.
You scoff at his question. “Uh, it was fine, Mark. I did some homework.” You answer bluntly.
Mark nodded, picking at the skin around his fingernails. “We had a game on Saturday. I was hoping you’d go, but I kind of figured you wouldn’t. We won. Four nothing. Rutger had this awesome play where-”
“What’re you doing here, Mark?” You cut him off.
He licks his lips, looking away from you. He’s silent as he looks out your window, the orange leaves slowly dropping from the tree just outside.
“I thought about what you said…on Friday.” He finally says. 
Your mouth goes dry, anticipating what his next words will be. You figure it goes one of two ways; he tells you he feels the same way or he tells you he doesn’t feel the same way and it’s the end of your friendship as you know it. You pray it’s the first.
“I was a douche.” He says. “I like you. I do. I really do.”
His words seem sincere but you don’t feel wholly convinced. “You said that, Mark.” You say. “But I don’t know if I believe you.”
“I understand that, but please try to.” He says softly. You stay silent, going to sit on your bed, giving Mark the chance to speak. 
“Okay…I’ve liked you for a while now. Like, last homecoming, y’know?”
You do know. It was the first time he’d kissed you.
“That…that was…sober thoughts becoming drunk actions,” Mark says. “Y’see I liked you a lot but I was scared…I didn’t know what to do. So when I got drunk, I wasn’t scared anymore so I just kissed you. And then the next morning, I was sober and the fear was back.” “Okay but Mark, I don’t understand what you were scared of. You say.
“I was scared you wouldn’t reciprocate, y/n.” He says. 
You can’t help but chuckle at his reasoning. “Why would you think that? I did reciprocate.” 
Mark bows his head, shrugging his shoulders. “Y/n… you’ve been in my life for too long. If I fucked up our friendship…I don’t know what I’d do.”
You run your hands over your face, processing his words. 
“And you’re you! I mean, y/n, you’ve always been this straight-A student, and you’re so god-damn smart and I’m a fucking fourth liner with more penalty minutes than shots on net.” Mark says, chuckling as he reaches the end of his sentence.
“Mark…” You say. You finally lock eyes with him, his brimming with tears. You hop off your bed, standing in front of him.
“And I’m not trying to give excuses I’m just trying to explain why the hell I’ve been the way that I am.” He tells you.
You reach forward, running your hand through his hair. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in. His hands find the back of your thighs, his head resting on your stomach. The pair of you stay there momentarily, holding one another close. 
“Y/n?” Mark finally says. You pull back slightly, looking at Mark. “I want you. I want to be with you. Please.”
He pulls you down so you’re sat on his right knee. “If you’ll have me.” He adds.
You chuckle, bringing a hand to his cheek. Mark doesn’t hesitate to close the space, pressing his lips against yours. The comfort of his lips swaddles you as his hands grip your hips to hold you on his lap. The lack of sloppiness his sober kiss brings realizes the truth of his words. You’ve also known Mark since grade school and you’ve come to recognize when Mark is being genuine and not. And right now you have no doubt in your mind of how genuine he is.
When you break apart, you wipe away a stray tear that had escaped Mark's eye. “So, you’ve liked me since last year?”
“Maybe more like high school…” Mark says.
“High school? You’ve been hiding this since high school?” You ask.
“Yeah, well you didn’t like me then!” Mark defended.
You chuckle, brushing back a piece of hair that fell over his face. “Honey, I’ve liked you since the day you destroyed my sandcastle in the sandbox.”
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maxsimagination · 1 month
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Hope you have a good day,could you do a Hayley Raso one were reader gets injured and Haley gets overprotective but after that she comes over and checks if your alright? Thankyou:)
𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙝𝙚𝙧 - 𝙝.𝙧𝙖𝙨𝙤
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warnings: major injury (concussion, mention of blood), angry!hayley, mancity!hayley
a/n: no hate to chelsea or its players, it’s just for the fic
------
chelsea vs manchester city.
the two strongest sides in the super league.
all the passion and power both teams had was coming to a head today, in the cup final.
to say i was nervous was an understatement, it wasn’t my first major game with the club but i got the jitters before every important fixture.
gareth had published the starting lineup yesterday at training, which i’d immediately looked over and noted that he’d put me in first. starting at centre back, lucky number eight.
when we arrived at the stadium, there was people all around in the stands. you could hear the crowd, not yelling, but the sheer amount of them made all the talking reverberate and was heard from the changing rooms.
eventually, we all ran out to start warm up, spending time running basic drills, gareth shouting instructions here and there, psyching ourselves up to play in our biggest game yet.
you could hear over the loudspeakers throughout the stadium, they announced each player one by one, as we each came up on the big screen. when we were called back into the tunnel, hayley came up next to me, bumping my shoulder with a grin.
“you excited?”
“yea, you could say that. nerves are buzzing in my stomach though.”
her laugh was light and sweet, her eyes sparkling with humour.
“you’ll do great. best centre back we’ve got.”
i could feel the blush spread on my cheeks. it was then that gareth herded us all in the change room, wanting to give us a pre match pep talk.
“go out there and crush them, girls. we got this.”
with one last cheer, we all walked out, the starting eleven lining up behind steph houghton, the experienced defender leading us out.
when we first kicked off it wasn’t an exciting start.
i didn’t get much ball time within the first ten minutes, kiera and georgia kept the ball up in the middle, occasionally passing back to defense who promptly kicked it back up.
chelsea’s first break came in the 25’ minute with sam kerr. she was lightning fast and had the ability to head in goals from anywhere.
lauren james had given her an amazing pass from the mid, and kerr was bolting for the ball down the left wing. i knew that jen was meant to be there, but she was too far up the field to make it back and still defend.
that’s where i came in, sliding along the grass to kick the ball away from sam’s foot at the last moment. it was a brilliant save, if i did say so myself, and ellie in goal was punching the air at my moves.
finally, we broke the stalemate, kiera landed an unexpected but amazing shot from outside the box. it was 1-0 to man city.
the whistle blew for half time shortly after and i dragged myself down the tunnel. chelsea was definitely making us work for it.
a fifteen minute break only seemed like five when we had to walk back out there. gareth had subbed hayley onto the field to play in striker, hoping we had another lucky break.
quite the opposite happened, however.
chelsea had the ball up our end, before it was tackled away; they had a corner kick. guro took that shot, and props to her because it curved beautifully. i had leapt up to header the ball away, but at the same time, lauren james was there.
her body had smashed into mine, knocking me back. however, it wasn’t the crash itself that had caused damage. when i had fallen back i was too close to the goal and my head had been hit on the metal post.
i heard the crack, and an audible gasp, although i couldn’t determine who that came from. a wave of pain consumed my body, from my head down. the first thing i did was reach a hand up to my head. when my fingers pulled away, the tips were covered in blood.
my blood.
i could barely make out what was happening around me, it was a fight to keep my eyes open and my ears were ringing, but what i did see was hayley going toe-to-toe with lauren james.
the medics had reached us then, but for me it was already too late, i closed my eyes and let my vision go black.
hayley was almost screaming in lauren’s face, this was her fault, she pushed me into the goal post and now i was unconscious. our teammates had to physically restrain her before things got out of hand. the ref handed lauren a yellow card for her dangerous play and hayley got a warning for her words.
i was stretchered off the field and taken in ambulance to the nearest hospital before the girls could restart their game.
when i woke up, the first thing i noticed was the white room. everywhere i looked there was white. then i saw hayley sitting next to me. i didn’t know how long she’d been there, but she was currently asleep in the chair so my guess was long enough.
hayley had always been a light sleeper, so when i moved my hand, it was no surprise that she woke up immediately.
“you’re awake.”
she stood up and called for the nurse. a younger woman walked into the room with a clipboard and some paperwork.
“yn yln?”
“yea-a.”
my voice was all croaky from not having spoken in a while.
“how are you feeling? took quite the fall on the pitch today.”
i didn’t have a clue what she was talking about so i just answered the question.
“my head hurts a bit. i don’t remember anything happening. what happened?”
hayley was the first to speak up this time, recounting what had happened on the pitch earlier.
“your head was whacked against the goal post.”
turns out i’d split my head open, even if it was only a little bit, and gotten a concussion.
slowly i took in everything that had happened within the last couple of hours. i didn’t say anything just say in silence trying to process things.
the nurse ended up leaving after a bit, telling me i was free to go, as long as i had someone that could supervise me for a couple of days. that left me and hayley in the room alone again.
“i was so worried that you wouldn’t remember me.”
i don’t think she expected me to answer, or even hear what she said in the first place, but i knew.
“i wouldn’t forget you, ribbons. i’d never forget you.”
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mariposa-writes · 1 year
Text
Stressed - Travis Kelce
Travis Kelce x reader
Summary: Travis just wants to help you.
Word count: 1.5k
A/N: Trying to put more Travis fics out there, since there are barely any. This is my first time ever posting on here, please let me know what you think. Thanks and have a great day!
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You sat at Travis's dining room table, looking over your stack of bills. It felt like they were never-ending, and it seemed like no mattered how much you worked there was never enough money.
You were constantly stressed, over everything. You couldn't even remember the last time you'd felt even slightly relaxed. The bills you received yesterday, were much higher than expected. Then you had to find time to work at your job while interning at KPMG, one of the top accounting firms. Not to mention you had 3 essays due soon along with multiple assignments. Plus Travis had some event he wanted you to attend, where you would officially be showing up as a couple.
You guys had decided to keep your relationship on the DL for the past year and managed to keep your relationship hidden from the public.
Travis placed a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. You hadn't even noticed that he'd gotten home. "Hey, it's just me." He chuckled, finding your reaction funny. You got up out of your chair, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. "Sorry," you mumbled before cleaning up the mess you'd created on his dining room table.
You quickly hid the bills under some of your notes, not wanting Travis to know you were struggling. You knew Travis all too well, knowing he would want to do anything he could to help you, whether that meant paying off your student debt or paying all of your bills. Hell, he'd probably even higher someone to write your essay's for you if you asked.
You were his world, and he was willing to do anything to make your life easier.
You quickly shoved the papers into your backpack, "I'll get started on dinner. I didn't realize what time it was." You said, getting ready to head into the kitchen.
"Hey," Travis grabbed your wrist, leading you back to him. "What's wrong?"
You blinked a few times, "Nothing, everything's fine. Just tired." You plastered a smile on your face, trying to be convincing. His eyes narrowed, clearly not believing you.
He sighed, deciding to let it go. "Why don't I cook tonight." He suggested, "You can go take a relaxing bath or something."
"Are you sure?" You asked knowing Travis didn't normally cook, "I can help if you want?"
"Babe, don't worry, I actually can cook, believe it or not." He laughed slightly.
"Not," you mumbled. You'd guys been together for a little over a year, and he hardly ever cooked. If you didn't feel like cooking, then you'd guys either order in, or he'd have his private chef come cook up a meal.
He slapped your butt as you turned to walk away, "I heard that." You laughed before rushing up the stairs to take a shower.
You loved Travis's shower, especially when he was with you. Sadly he was cooking dinner, so you had to enjoy the waterfall shower alone. At least you got to make the water scolding hot when you were alone, Travis always accused you of trying to burn your skin off with how hot you liked the water.
After your shower you changed into one of his shirts, that went to mid thigh on you and threw on some shorts you had in the dresser Travis had gotten for you 6 months ago.
You ventured down stairs with a smile on your face, feeling slightly relaxed after your shower. You could also smell the food from down stairs and it surprisingly smelled delicious.
Your smile quickly left your face when you turned the corner and saw Travis standing over your bag, with papers in hand. "What are you looking at?" You asked, despite already knowing what he was looking at.
Travis dropped the papers on the table, "Why didn't tell me you were struggling to pay your bills? Is this why you've been so distant lately?" His words were unexpected, you didn't think you'd been distant lately. You always tried to be in the present when you were with him.
You snatched the papers up and shoved them back into your bag. "You had no right to look through my stuff." You seethed. You couldn't believe he actually went in your bag and looked through your personal belongs.
"Well, I feel like I have to cause you'll barely talk to me anymore." Travis threw his hands up, frustrated at the situation.
You walked to the kitchen and grabbed your keys from the counter. You hated fighting and all you could think about was getting out of there before it got worse. "I have homework, I need to go home and finish it." You stated, walking out of his front door and to your car.
"Y/n" He called, following you. You ignored him, opening you car door and getting in. He caught the door before you could slam it shut. "Babe, don't leave please. We can talk about this."
"Trav," you pleaded. "I don't wanna fight right now. I just wanna go home."
"Bab-" you interrupted him by closing the door, starting your car and backing out of the driveway. He stood there watching you the whole time.
_____
The next day you had gotten up and went to your classes. Travis had been texting you all day, but you weren't responding.
You didn't know what to say, you felt like Travis had invaded your private information. Travis was an open book, he would tell you anything you asked. But you were more closed off.
You didn't trust people as easily as him. Maybe, because of the way you grew up. You learned to be independent form a young age and your mom always taught you to never trust anyone.
This caused some issues between you and Travis, even if you didn't realize. Like the time he bought you a car because, he didn't want you driving your old beater that had trouble starting up during the winter.
He worried that it would break down and you'd get stranded somewhere. Well, you're still driving that car and Travis has a spare car parked in his garage since he refused to return it.
You walked up to your apartment, feeling even more tired than normal. You hadn't been home all day, after your classes ended at 2 you went to the place you're interning at and worked until 6, then you went to your other job and worked till close.
It was now 11:15 and when you opened your door, you didn't expect to see Travis sitting on your bed. His head snapped up when the door opened and you walked through. "Trav, what-"
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have looked through your stuff. I don't wanna fight, I love you so much baby and it kills me when you're mad at me." He was now standing in front of you cupping your face with his hands. "I just want to make your life easier. You could've told me you were struggling. I would've helped you pay your bills."
You sighed, leaning into his hand. Travis loved physical contact, while you were the opposite. You hated hugging your friends, or anyone for that matter. But when it came to Travis you craved his touch. "That's why I didn't tell you. I knew you would want to pay for everything and fix it. I can handle it myself, I've been doing it for the past 22 years. "
"Just cause you have been doing it doesn't mean you still have too. I'm here now, you're not alone anymore." Tears started to well up in your eyes.
"But what happens when I become dependent on you, and you leave me" He tried to cut you off, to tell you that'd never happen but you kept going. "Trav, you have literal super models in your dm's. What if you wake up one day and realize you don't wanna be with me and you want to be with one of them." You were crying now, you'd never voiced these fears to Travis. He wiped every tear that fell away with his thumb. "Then I'm alone and I don't know how to function on my own anymore, because I'm so dependent on you."
"Babe, I'm never gonna leave you." He knew where these thoughts were coming from. "I'm not your father, I would never leave you because I thought I found something better."
"How do you know?"
"Because I already know that you're the best there is." He took your hand in his. "Babe, we fit together so well. You fit with my family so well. Jason and his family love you, my parents love you, and most importantly I love you. So I'm begging you to stop shutting me out. Turn to me when you need help."
"I love you too Kelce." He leaned down, his lips meeting yours. His tongue slipped between your lips, making you moan. You were certain that he was the best kisser in the world. This continued for a few minutes, you growing wetter by the minute.
"Move in with me." He said, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes widening, "and before you say no, just know that I've been thinking about this for a while. This isn't a split second decision."
Your mind told you no, but for once you decided to listen to your heart. "Yes." He smiled, before his lips meet yours again. He lead you over to your bed and you two had the best night of your life.
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amsgrey · 8 months
Text
Domestication
Kia Ora! It's been forever since I posted anything and it feels like forever since I've had the motivation to sit and right, but this came to me all of a sudden and I wrote it in like two hours so it might suck (not that I care) but no more writer's block!! Ka Pai!!!
synopsis: A Typical night with the Bastard of the Barrel. Or, the Bastard of the Barrel behind his locked door.
warnings: major fluff yall, not proofread yet because we all know I suck at that, I can't think of anything else oops
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Kaz was almost always reading in his spare time, from ledgers to novels to the latest Ketterdam newspapers on stocks or whatever else the press thought worthy of ink. Every night when you climbed the stairs to his room, you would find him busy reading through one thing or another.
Tonight was no different. When you finally got off your shift in the Crow club, you found Kaz sitting on his bed with a book in hand. You let out a sigh, toeing off your worn boots and walking to the basin to wash your hands and face.
"How's the club?" Kaz asked, not taking his eyes from the page.
You splashed water in your face, "Plenty of Pigeons.”
You dried your face and joined Kaz on his bed, leaning against the headboard, mirroring his own pose.
"How was your day scheming?"
Kaz turned to look at you, entirely unamused by your cheeky smirk.
"It was fine," He replied, slowly.
The two of you sat silently, enjoying the quietness for a while. For the last few weeks, you had been staying in Kaz's room more and more. You had jokingly told him it was because his bed was bigger and more comfortable, but you both knew it was because you enjoyed waking up beside one another.
You noticed Kaz must have cleaned while you were away, tidying off his desk and drawers. Kaz was a stress cleaner, you had learnt. He liked this space to be tidy, everything in its rightful place. You learned rather quickly to keep things where they were meant to be.
"I cleared a drawer," Kaz said suddenly, you turned to look at him with a frown.
"Okay?"
Kaz put his book down on the table beside him, "For you."
It took a moment for his words to register, Kaz watched as your eyes lit up and a grin spread across your face.
"For me?"
He nodded once.
You leaned forward, gently placing your hand in his, "Have I finally succeeded in domesticating the Bastard of the barrel?"
Kaz made a big show of rolling his eyes, "It's one drawer."
You shrugged, cheekily replying, "One more than I had yesterday."
Kaz had been a lot better with touch lately, in the safety of his room, where no one other than you entered. It took months, years, to get to this point. With your hand in his, mindlessly rubbed circles with his thumb, tracing a pattern only he knew.
"What are you reading?"
Kaz had yet to put his book down, holding his page with a finger wedged in the pages. He opened to where he was, displaying the tiny cramped print for you to see.
"A book about stocks," He said.
"Oh."
"Oh?"
You giggled, "Sounds... boring."
Kaz gave you an annoyed side glance and went back to reading. Admitting defeat, you unthreaded your fingers from his and slipped off the bed. You padded over to Kaz's chest of drawers, well aware that he was watching you in between the words on the page. You pulled open the draw, seeing that Kaz had cleared you a space. A smile broke across your face again, pleased at the sight in front of you. Kaz's drawers were heavy and sometimes finicky, much like all the furniture in the Slat. You lifted the draw a little and slid it back into place, making sure it was shut tight like Kaz had it before.
Instead of returning to Kaz, you opened the next drawer down. Sliding it open as carefully as possible, the drawer revealed pristinely folded shirts and tunics. You ran your fingers over the fabric, almost all of Kaz's shirts were soft and clean, he took such care of his clothes and appearance. It was one of the reasons you loved him, his attention to detail and his immense care for the small details. You found the shirt you were after, one that he never wore but kept folded neatly in his drawer for you.
You unbuttoned your own shirt, it smelt of the Crow Club. A strange redolence of beer, jurda and the distinct smell of the wooden tables after years of use. You lay your dirty shirt over the back of Kaz's desk chair, making note to add it to your own washing in the morning. You pulled on Kaz's shirt, immediately greeted by his scent that was woven through the threads. Kaz shirt felt like pure silk after spending the day in your scratchy blouse, the fabric soothing away any irritation left on your skin.
You looked over your shoulder at Kaz for a moment, spying him nose-deep in his book again. You both knew he wasn't actually reading.
You rid yourself of your belt next, one that you had pinched from Nina months ago. You undid the buckle and carefully laid it over the chair, trying to keep your belongings in one space. You did the same with your skirt and tights, leaving you in almost ready to slip into bed.
You rounded back around the bed, pulling back the covers and slipping underneath. This was your nightly routine now, you slipping under the covers before Kaz, promising to stay awake with him and almost always falling asleep anyway. Kaz loved it, you knew. He would pretend to be exasperated, watching you yawn and fade slowly, but after you fell asleep he would put his book away and watch you rest peacefully.
Curled up under the covers, you watched him read. Watching his eyes scan the page and his lips ghost the words as he read. Sometimes, when he got invested, he would make comments to himself out loud. Oftentimes, "Saints Sake," or "Fool," depending on who or what he was reading about. If you were lucky, Kaz would read quietly and the furrow in his brow would ease, smoothed away as he relented to his book. Those were your favourite moments. Watching the Bastard of the Barrel vanish and Kaz Reitveld appear again. Each time, you cherished them like it was the last.
You shifted again, pulling the blanket over your shoulder to keep your warmth trapped. Kaz's eyes shifted over to you, a silent question within them.
"Read to me?" You whispered.
Kaz smiled, a gentle, loving smile that sent butterflies to your stomach and tingles down your spine.
"Of course."
Kaz took one hand from the book, finding your own under the cover.
You didn't care about how boring the current stock market was or whatever it was Kaz was reading, but you loved hearing Kaz read to you. The sound of his voice, calm and patient after a dangerous and tumultuous day. The sound of his fingers drumming on the hardcover, a steady beat. When he turned the page, he would hang on to the last word of the page, so as to not forget what it was.
You loved every part of these nights with every part of your soul.
As you started to relax more, your mind sinking into sleep, you pulled his hand to your chest, pressing your lips to his knuckles and whispering, "I love you, Rietveld."
Kaz placed his book away, blowing out the lantern and joining you under the covers.
"I love you too," He whispered, his lips pressed to your hairline.
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thatacotargirl · 17 days
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Shadows and Surprises (1)
This is Part 1 of an Azriel x Reader fanfic - I hope you enjoy! PS. future chapters will be longer, this is just a short introduction to the story.
This is set after A Court of Mist and Fury.
Summary: Azriel meets y/n at Rita's and spends a single night of passion with you before heading your separate ways. Only, the Mother had different ideas.
Azriel POV
4 months earlier
Azriel woke with a start, and a searing headache. A night well spent at Rita's meant he had found himself scorchingly drunk and waking in the bed of an unknown female's home. He swore to himself as he rose from the bed, holding his head with his palm and pausing to breathe away the nausea. When he finally cracked his eyes open, he found the bed empty and, after laying a hand on the left side, discovered it was cold. Whoever had brought Azriel to their bed had decided to not stay for the morning. He decided not to overstay his welcome and clambered out of the bed, slowly, gathering up his clothes and pausing every so often to take big gulps of air in an attempt to not hurl on himself. After locating everything except his left shoe, he walked through the house to find the front door and make his big exit - but not before his eyes came across a glass of water, a hangover tonic, and a post-it note on the kitchen island. He picked up the post-it, which read "had to dash - thanks for a great night!", swallowed the tonic, and headed out the door before taking to the skies for a slow flight home.
Present day
"Why do I have to go?" gruffed Cassian, pushing a spoon around in his porridge, "I can barely bring myself up to the roof for training after the session I had yesterday".
"Yes, well, whose fault is that for sparring against Azriel when you knew you were still recovering from getting pelted at with arrows last week?" Mor retorted.
Cassian glared across the table, and flicked his spoon in Mor's direction, a dollop of porridge flying across the table and landing neatly on Mor's light blue top. She squealed in frustration, scooping off the porridge and hurling it back at Cassian, before stepping from the table and heading back to her room to change. Cassian laughed and continued eating his breakfast, the dollop of porridge which landed back on his side of the table included.
"I'll go", offered Azriel, making to stand from the table. "I don't mind heading into Velaris today anyway, I could do with one of those blueberry buns they sell in the little bakery on the Rainbow". Azriel thanked the House with a silent nod as his breakfast dishes vanished, and walked to the door of the dining room.
"Don't forget a chocolate marble sponge slice for me!" Cassian called from the table as he watched Azriel leave.
-
Azriel stopped by the bakery, picking up a blueberry bun, a chocolate marble sponge slice, and a small box of cupcakes to share with the rest of the Inner Circle tonight. He then made his way along to the Apothecary where he needed to pick up Rhysand's order of extra medical supplies, in the event that they ever needed them at the House. Given how prone Azriel and Cassian were to getting injured, or injuring themselves, they had gone through almost all the bandages and creams they had in just a few short weeks. Azriel shook his head, smiling to himself as he replayed memories in his mind of sparring with Cassian and taking him to the ground.
Azriel walked into the Apothecary, the bell dinging above the door, and stood to the right to let a young fae male exit - his hands gripping so tightly on his tonic Azriel thought he was likely to break the glass bottle before he got it home. He could hear Madja speaking behind the beaded curtain to someone, so waited near the door, gazing at all the bottles and vials that filled the shelves of the Apothecary from floor to ceiling. How Madja remembered what each tonic did, he would never know.
His gaze turned as he saw a female back out of the beaded curtains, still in deep conversation with Madja. Madja glanced at Azriel over the female's shoulder, a brief smile on her face, before returning the female in front of her.
"Take this tonic up to three times a day as you need it, you'll find it really helps. If you feel you need to take it more often, please pop back in and we will try to adjust the formula for you" Madja advised the female, handing over a bottle of red liquid.
"Thank you, Madja, I really appreciate it".
Azriel froze, recognising the female's voice instantly. It was the female he had met at Rita's 4 months ago whilst out with the Inner Circle, the one he had bedded and not seen again. Part of him wanted to flee, not sure how he could handle facing you again after that night and the 4 months of silence, especially in Madja's presence, but the other part of him wanted to stay rooted to the spot and see your face again, your smile, make you laugh one more time. His shadows coiled around his shoulders, making excited zigzags around his head, and he decided in that moment that he wanted nothing more than to stay, even if just to smile at you, and let you know how much that night had meant to him if only for the few hours.
The female turned to leave, eyes widening in shock when she saw Azriel standing in the Apothecary. Azriel felt your tension, your panic, and took a step forward to try and help, offer something, anything to calm you in that moment. But he stopped. His eyes roamed, following your shaking hands, and landed on your abdomen. Eyes wide, his bag of baked goods fell to the floor as he stared at you; because at your abdomen he saw a small, but unmistakable, baby bump.
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yourlocallygrowngay · 1 month
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Kiss of Purple, Blue and Green
Summary: After a drunken night together, Arthur sees a love bite on your neck and mistakens it for a bruise.
Warnings: bit of angst and a whole lot of fluff, suggestive themes
Word count: 2,361
Ask and you shall receive. Here's a one shot of the scenario I posted a few days ago ;)
Check this out on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54854827
Last night was still a bit of a blur, pieces of it manifesting disorderly, like trying to fit puzzle pieces into the wrong spots. All you knew for certain was two things: the pounding headache that was making you wince at each sound, and… that you and Arthur Morgan had been up to no good.
You shivered in the cold morning air, pulling the blanket over your trembling shoulders as you sat down in front of the last embers of the campfire, a steaming cup of coffee in your hands to warm you up. You could tell the sweet nectar was doing its job, as you were feeling more awake already. You thanked the Lord for coffee.
But you cursed him out the very next second, because you felt someone sitting next to you and you froze, your entire body stiffening. It wasn’t nice company.
“Hello there, cowpoke!” The mustached man roared, sending a wave of pain directly to your already aching temples.
“Micah… not now” you begged, features scrunched up in pain. Turning away from him, you downed the rest of the coffee in silence.
But you knew Micah. He wasn’t resisting the opportunity to have his fun with you in one of your rare vulnerable moments. He spun you around rudely, and grinned under his blonde stache when you recoiled and slapped his filthy hands away.
“Geez, does the liquor at least make you gentler? I’d have to ask Mr. Morgan about that!” he sneered loudly, prompting you to look around, alarmed.
“What do you want?” you hissed, moving in closer to shush him. Micah’s expression relaxed.
“Me? Oh, nothing, nothing at all!” he got up and paced in front of you, grabbing his belt. “If you want the whole camp knowing what you got up to, that is.”
His stupid, cocky smile made you want to punch it off his face, but you tried to keep your composure. Micah was Dutch’s second in command now, you didn’t think it smart to attack him like that. Inside, anger was boiling in your chest, filling your gaze with venom. The mere thought of him knowing what you did (something that was nebulous even to you, and so very private) made your skin crawl. Was he in Valentine too yesterday? Did he spy on y’all?
The man approached you, lowering his voice condescendingly. This would stay between the two of you, if… you did something for him. You were sitting there, trying to interpret his ominous request, you heart beating steadily faster as you felt cornered by this damned fool.
“What is it?” you sighed, wondering if being blackmailed by Micah was worth it, if it meant your foolish actions remained concealed.
This time, he got so close you could feel his foul breath on your nose. You grimaced and tried to suppress a gag. Man, he was disgusting, both inside and out. He cupped your chin, squeezing it firmly. He had just parted his lips to speak when you heard loud, thundering footsteps get closer and closer to your position. Next thing you knew, Micah was tumbling backwards, narrowly avoiding the campfire.
“DON’TCHA DARE TOUCH ‘EM, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”
You tilted your head upwards in shock. There he was, the man you spent the night with; Arthur Morgan, a man you knew for years and who you never saw lose his temper was there, fists clenched and a murderous rage obscuring his usually sweet blue eyes. A man you had witnessed murder, steal and intimidate, yet his violence always felt calculated, measured in a way, but not this time.
And it was gone in seconds. He turned to you, his fury fizzled away into a worried expression as he asked you if you were okay. You nodded, dazed, still processing what had happened.
You both glanced at Micah, who was still trying to regain his balance after the fall, wiping away the mud and grass from his pants. His expression was his usual, douchy one, but you saw the genuine panic and the fear in his eyes when he was on the ground: he was scared of Arthur. It was clear as day, from the way he kept a safe distance from the both of you, his wounded ego showing. Arthur put on his intimidating gaze and scowled at him until he disappeared into his tent.
“So, what did the bastar-“ he interrupted himself, noticing something on your neck. There it was again, the rage. You saw his face become completely red with anger as he gently hovered his fingers on your bruise, the contrast between the two baffling. You tried to think of some words to defuse him, but before you had a chance to say anything, he shot up and started yelling at the whole camp.
“Okay, which one of ya bastards did this?! Jus’ lemme find out…” Arthur snarled, quite literally growling the threat like a rabid animal. He frantically looked around for the culprit, only finding tired eyes and people still in their night clothes blinking at him, incredulous and concerned at his unusual display of anger.
“Arthur…” you tried to get his attention, but his mind was miles away from you. He wanted justice for whoever dared to put their filthy hands on your precious skin. He was pacing menacingly, glaring at the other men in the gang.
“Come out, ya goddamn coward!!” he shouted, spelling the word “goddamn” even more harshly and slowly than usual. Boy, was he angry… he was starting to scare you, too. You sat there, frozen, pondering what to do.
Javier, Sean and Bill exchanged confused looks, standing each in front of their tents. Sean was the only one who darted a look at you, and you widened your eyes at him, shaking your head in disbelief. But Arthur interpreted that differently and marched towards the Irishman threateningly.
“I’m watching you, boah” he threatened, but Sean was difficult to intimidate, and kept that dumb smirk on his face. The older man grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, but Sean assured him he didn’t know what he was talking about.
“Leave the boy alone, Arthur” Javier intervened in his usual pacifying tone. “Besides, wasn’t you out with them last night?”
Arthur kept his grip on Sean, but his expression softened a bit, his scrunched eyebrows trying to remember the events of last night. Little by little, it came back to him: you had been out on a mission, robbing a stagecoach, and then… he vaguely recalled stopping at the saloon in Valentine.
He let go of the kid and you sighed in relief. You approached him, grabbed his arm and walked him to the edge of camp, where you two could have a private conversation.
You thought you were hiding it well, but Arthur still noticed the fright in your eyes. He realized he had gone too far.
“I’m so sorry I scared ya, darlin’…” he apologized, his tone softer than you’ve ever heard it, his eyes firmly on his feet. “That was way outta line… it’s jus’…” he gestured aimlessly, struggling to find the words. 
You took one of his hands in yours, gently kissing his bruised knuckles. You got was he was trying to say. When it came to you, all rationality went out of the window. He was sweet on you for a while now, and he was incredibly protective… this was just the first time you’d seen his feelings in action.
“I know. If someone hurt you, I’d probably do the same” you said gently, and his face relaxed into a smile.
You pointed at your neck, smiling in amusement. “This, however? All you.” you laughed, and then cracked up some more at Arthur’s sheer panic.
“Did… did I hurtcha?!” he gasped. He couldn’t stand the idea, not even for a second. It would destroy him if it was true. He’d never forgive himself.
“No, you fool!” you elbowed him in his ribs and explained that that was no bruise. It was a love bite.
“A… what?” he repeated, blinking rapidly. He never heard of such thing. You tried to explain that when he kissed your neck, he did it so… fervently, that he left a small mark just under your jawbone.
“Oh.” His cheeks lit up in a bright, tomato red and his pupils dilated in realization. You two kissed last night? He was starting to remember now…
The stagecoach robbing went exactly as planned. Of course it did: you and Arthur were a great team, excellent criminal minds that foresee every possible outcome and handle everything expertly. You made off with quite a lot of money and jewelry, so you both decided to celebrate the successful heist with a few drinks in Valentine.
“Just a couple, we still have to go back to camp to deposit the loot” you reminded your partner, putting a coin on the counter and gesturing towards the bartender.
“Of course, no crazy business tonight” the cowboy promised, downing his first shot.
Of course, you were both full of shit. The drinks kept coming, and coming, and coming, until the next thing you remember was you waking up in Arthur’s tent, his arms wrapped around you.
And there was a room… it had a bed, so maybe it was at the saloon?
“Did… did we share a room at the saloon?!” you asked Arthur, alarmed. He was staring straight ahead, hand on his chin, as the scene revealed itself to him.
He saw your exposed neck, head tilted backwards into the pillow as he peppered kisses all over your collarbone and chest, stopping at the edge of your jawline to suck on the tender skin that bruised so quickly, so easily. He heard your moans and his name repeated over and over in delight, as you went deeper and deeper, the friction of skin against skin delicious and exasperating at the same time.
He felt breathless now, his face burning unbearably in what? Arousal? Shame? Maybe both. He didn’t dare to look you in the eye, but seeing him that flustered was enough to prove to you what had happened. You did drunkenly sleep together in that room in Smithfield’s saloon. Some recollections came back to you, making your stomach flutter and your abdomen warm with desire. You saw Arthur in his entirety, remembering his touch on your bare skin, his tongue on your neck and chest, the hair a tangled mess that covered his face. His figure revealed itself in all its vulnerability, the mask of tough outlaw crumbling to reveal a tender, passionate lover that, even in his inebriated state, made sure to put your pleasure first. You silently watched him now, trying to piece together the two sides of him: the side that you always knew, and the new one that opened up to you last night.
Arthur looked back at you, interpreting your surprise as hesitation.
“You regret that, don’tcha?” he asked, an almost imperceptible note of sadness in his tone. “I do too, in a way.”
You were not sure whether to take that as an insult. “What do you mean?”
Arthur walked towards you, taking your hands in his. He lowered his voice into a whisper that covered you in goosebumps. His expression was hard to interpret.
“I regret not making our first time special.” He rubbed his thumb on your hand lovingly, smiling at you. There they were, the eyes you always knew, those breathtaking blues you would lose yourself in every day.
You tucked a hair strand behind his ear and lingered there, caressing his scruffy cheek. Arthur leaned right into your hand, melting under your touch.
“Oh, Arthur” you smiled at him, radiant. “It was special, because it was you.” You grabbed his collar and gently pulled him closer, then put your lips on his for a brief, chaste kiss.
“Nah, I could’ve done it right for ya” he shook his head, as always rejecting the compliment. One of these days you had to make him accept one, you promised yourself.
“Now I’m curious. What would you have done differently?”
Arthur took a moment to think. “Well… for starters, I wouldn’t have been that drunk!”
You chuckled. “Then, I’d book a nice bath for the two of us, with some good wine…” as he talked, he fidgeted with the collar of your shirt, resting his hands on your chest. “Then we’d have some dinner, maybe a walk… and then we’d go back to our room, to sleep in a nice, comfortable bed.”
“That does sound nice…” you remarked, almost disappointed that it wasn’t how it actually went. “Although that’s where it did end. In that nice bed.” You joked, making the man grin.  “I guess you’re right” he laughed, pulling you closer.  
“Besides,” you continued, lowering your tone, “there’s always the next time, y’know…” you purred, putting a lot on emphasis on the word “next” and giving him a playful smile. Arthur’s eyes lit right up, and he licked his lips.
“S’that so? And when is that?” he asked, his voice so deep it boomed inside his chest, so filled with desire that the warmth in you lower belly returned unannounced. Before you could answer, he was kissing you again, taking his time with it. His stubble tickled your skin, so thick and rough compared to his soft lips. You put your hands around his neck, one cupping his nape as he pushed you against the tree, lost in his affection for you.
“Get a room, you two!” you both jolted at the voice, realizing you weren’t as well hidden from the group as you’d thought. You smiled, embarrassed, watching Hosea wink at you as he walked away.
“Well, there goes our little secret, Arthur” you exhaled, laughing nervously.
“A secret? Who do ya think is responsible for pairin’ us up on every damn mission?” the cowboy laughed, pointing his thumb at Hosea’s back.
“C’mon, let’s go get some breakfast, darlin’.” After placing a kiss on your forehead, Arthur took your hand as you both went back to the group, relieved to not have to hide your love anymore.
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xuchiya · 2 months
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freaky deaky [c.jongho]
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₊˚.༄ || filth valentines m.list || hongjoong || seonghwa || yunho || yeosang || san || mingi || wooyoung || jongho || ₊˚.༄
₊˚.༄ Got the mirror on the ceiling You're in the mood to please me ₊˚.༄
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Here’s the thing, Jongho is horny, like right now. Let’s get it straight as he is really in need to release his desires or else he’ll explode but he couldn’t do that, not especially when he’s with you, his girlfriend who he can’t corrupt its innocence unlike his sister but that's a different story. 
  You were both back inside the hotel; immediately you belly flop yourself on the circular queen size bed, squealing at the softness of the bed making you relax instantly. The day really started with a coffee breakfast date then walking around the park and touring around the town of Italy but after the lunch you shared with Jongho, you noticed he was acting slightly out of his character.
   He would remove your hands that were wrapped around his arm or he would shake his head when you want to take a selfie with you whenever you reach a certain part of the town that is so beautiful that you want to have a nice capture with Jongho but he isn’t cooperating with you or he would just have a distance as you look around.
Your mood sours and declares that the sun is setting low (even though it's just 2 in the afternoon) and you want to sleep instead. You groan, eyebrows frown as you turn on your back to see tiled like mirrors; surprising you as you have never seen the mirror ceiling since yesterday that you have settled in.
  You took the opportunity to do just what you like to do and enjoy the moment of yours while you let your boyfriend do whatever he needs to do; reflect what he had done to make the day so bitter for you.
  It was nearing golden hour and the sunlight had hit your room igniting a symphony of dust motes dancing in its warm embrace, casting the room in a luminous golden glow. As the camera captures your figure posing on the mirror ceiling; you decide to enliven your gallery and to what you can post on your platform. Underneath your sundress, you wore a matching set of lingerie, just for Jongho but you were not in the mood to talk to him just yet.
You started taking pictures in your lingerie, minding your own business until you felt the bed dipped on the other side, you knew who it was but chose to ignore him and continued zooming in and out of the pictures, posing, “Jagi .. I’m sorry.” Well it was genuine but it meant something else. He had enough of today’s agenda that had him igniting more and added to his fuel? You are in bed, taking pictures and in his favorite.fucking.lingerie.
Your head turned to him, aligned with your raised eyebrows until you huffed, returning the straps back on your shoulders until you felt a tight grasp on your wrist, stopping you from placing the straps back in. your head snapped at him ready to explode but with his hooded eyes and chest heaving, you knew immediately why he acted this morning.
Sudden rush to the bathroom? Hiding something under the pillow when you walk out from the bedroom as he waits in the living room? The hands on your lower back that are always above your bra line? And whenever you cling to his arms, does he go nuts when he can entirely feel your boobs on his? Yes entirely, crazily and horny yes!
“You smart jagi~  know what’s on your mind.”
Here’s the thing, you are also horny. Just as much as Jongho is; you were at the worst of your horniness that you started to imagine things that you never thought you would do in your history of sex. You love Jongho so much that asking for intimacy is a problem.
THAT is the problem. To you and to Jongho. You were quite aware of the fact your closest friends always tell you were gifted with an innocent face but a devil in mind. You speak filthy words yet the face says otherwise; that’s why you always get away with things like website history on your computer with the look ‘i don’t know maybe someone did.’
   And Jongho fell on your innocent face too.
“Am I Jongho? Is my presence too much for your desires? Or is your dick aching to get wet right now?” Jongho was taken back when you grabbed his hand and hover it on your breast. His hand trembles underneath the soft flesh of your boobs, his hand curled on the slightest and he is sent to heaven how he imagined they will be. Soft and jiggly and fits perfectly in his hand.
His eyes trailed on what he thought was innocent but with your actions, he doesn’t think of it anymore. Jongho had held back for so long to not surprise or traumatise you by pouncing at you like a wolf on heat.
Maybe he is on heat. The burning desire of wanting you is too much for him. His tongue glazes his dry lips, eyes trailing down to your lips to your blooming pushed up cleavage on your lingerie, “Angel face yet so vicious.”
Jongho moves closer to you, diving his head on your cleavage; his nose nudging on the flesh and he is met with the scent of sweet flowery lotion he loves. Jongho’s warmth hand clasp around your waist and pulls you on his lap, he laid down on the soft bed, looks up at you with lust yet affection can still see in them. You pull your hair up in a messy makeshift ponytail as you grind your hips on his hard boner poking uncomfortably in his pants.
His grips tighten as he buck his hips on yours, groaning as he can feel the wetness pass through your panties, “I can already feel you so wet jagi.” You moan before leaning your arms on his thighs,moving your hips smoothly over his crotch; hard and uncomfortable against his slacks.
Jongho’s head leaned back diving in the pillows, eyes suddenly catching an erotic scene on the mirror on the ceiling. His lips went between his teeth, the image of you bare  and exposed to the reflective image on the ceiling while riding him messily had him groaning, wanting to ram himself inside your velvety walls. Bend you over, screaming on the sheets as he takes you from the back.
“If you really want to fuck me so bad .. What's stopping you?” Your voice echoed in his deafening ears. Your words had triggered something before you both knew it, his calloused hands reached up to you, hastily removing your lingerie and his pants off. 
“Oh? Nothing is stopping me … I can fuck you as much as I want. Cum in this pussy as many times as I want no matter how many times you tell me to stop, oh baby, I got all day and night to paint these walls white and reach every inch of you on my dick.” His words shocked you as you have always thought Jongho to be the conservative, even, in his words and wants to express them in a clear manner.
Well it seems clear now.
You watch as Jongho removes his clothes one by one, not breaking eye contact as you sit there bare, tits hardened as the cold room nips on your skin and the erotic smell coming from Jongho has you in your own high. 
“Come here jagi, ride me.” His straightforwardness had always questioned him as he tended to shy away with his words. Sometimes during your kiss, you were the one who opened up and he was too shy to even utter a single word. 
Now, seeing another side of him is not terrifying but intriguing as to why he has never shown this side to you, not even once. 
You moved closer to him, sitting on his lower stomach, your ass near him, wanting to test him for a little bit, “Is this what you’ve been hiding from me, jagi?” You purred, moving your hips, your folds leaving slick on his stomach making him groan, palms so hot on top of your thighs, “You’re one of those innocent looking yet so lewd.” You move a little backwards towards his stiff dick and let your clit glide on his size, your bundle of nerves throbbing each time it hits his tip.
Jongho was left speechless too, considering you were one of the angelic faces amongst your group yet why is he not surprised when he heard you speak so sinfully to him.
“I could say the same to you but enough talking and let me fuck you.” Jongho pushes himself up and wraps his arms around you before rolling you around.
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“That’s right jagi~ Taking my cock so well.” His hand on your back is like a dream, light as a feather yet so viscous that it makes your back arch as his cock slides back in and out of your cunt. Your manicured nails clawed the sheets below you as you meet Jonho’s hips in a motion that had you feeling every inch of his cock, gliding nudging your walls so feverish; looking over your shoulders to already see he has his eyes on you, hooded with lust and dominance, “Do you want me to go faster? Just tell me and I’ll make you see stars.”
You were bent down, your tits brushing the sheets as your ass were prompted up just for him, to smack, to fuck and use to pleasure himself. His hips snap every time he bottoms out, he halts to pull you closer and make you grind on him before pulling a few inches and thrust back in, “So~ good jagi!”
His arms crossed to grip each side of your ass as his hips thrust deeper and faster, making you whimper clawing back on the sheets as you near your climax, “U-uGH jagi! That’s it! Fuck!” The bed creaks, your muffled moans and Jongho’s curse of pleasure. 
“Jo-Jongho!” His hips halted, pulling out before flipping you on your back, he tapped his dick on your puffy cunt before slamming back inside without any warning. Jongho grabs on the headboard of the bed whilst the other wraps around your throat. The pressure sent you to orbit, seeing stars as his hand fit perfectly around them and the way his hitting the spongy spot inside you had you creaming his dick; creating a ring of your cum near his pelvis.
“There! Right there! Shit shit!” Jongho chuckles darkly as he watches you twitch underneath him, he feels your walls clenching him; a queue that you were nearing your climax and Jongho wanted to cum inside you deeply. He leans down, removing his hands to place them on each side of your head, “Put your legs on my shoulder jagi~” He demanded.
Shakingly, you place them on his broad shoulder and with the new position make you squirted. A long string of ‘oh’ left your lips as Jongho abused your squirting pussy to lube himself as he speeds up, he chuckles near your ear, “You like that?”
You nodded, grabbing his cheeks and pulling him in a messy make-out session. Jongho hums to the kiss as his hands move to your legs, squeezing them before pulling away. He leaned back, spreading your legs open in ‘V’ shape. 
“Squirt for me again jagi, wet yourself for me.” You bit your lip, your fingers running down to rapidly circle your clit. The overwhelming pleasure had you returning to the stars as you felt your walls clamp on his dick, “I’m gonna cum jagi! I’m gonna squirt my cum on your dick!” 
A smirk display on the corner of his lips,”Like I said jagi~ No one is stopping me, I can fuck you as much as I want . Go ahead.” With the last spring snapping, Jongho pulled a few inches back as your hole squirted out your juices. He taps them, making you squirm from the sensitive activity for the past hours and the amount of orgasm he gave you.
When you finally rest up, Jongho slams back in taking you by surprise, “I haven’t cum yet jagi~ Let me cum inside that pussy, please!”
His hips stuttered and faltered so did his breathing as he was reaching his climax, just like you, his hips halted and a deep groan broke from his throat as a string of his cum spurted each corner of your walls. Your eyes rolled back from the warm feeling, making you squeeze your tits.
Jongho pulled your hands away from your tits and replaced them with his. Twisting, pulling and circling them and even going to the point of slapping them to make them bounce before he pulls out. His chest heaves and so does yours.
Jongho’s eyes laid on your dishevelled naked body before chuckling half-heartedly, “I’ll get the bath ready.” He grabbed his disregarded boxer and went towards the bathroom. You turn to the side as you watch his figure disappear from the bathroom and a few minutes later, he comes back to pick you up.
He places you down on the bathtub, scented candles and sweet-smelling bath bombs. Jongho places himself behind you, “Is this okay? Do you need something? Did I go too much on you?”
You shake your head, cupping water to fall on your shoulders when you feel a warm lips on your back then hands wrapping securely around your torso and pulling you close to his chest. You instantly relax from his hold, releasing a relieved breath as you close your eyes.
“I’m sorry.” Jongho spoke. You hum in acknowledgement, “I understood you jagi~ No need to apologise.” It must be hard on Jongho to open up this kind of topic since he might scare you off with his sexual desires or how high his sex drive is but with how you understood him without even explaining had him crying from the inside from being lucky to have someone to accept this other side of him. 
“But what I did to you this morning is something I want to make up to you.” You can imagine him pouting and making you chuckle; playing with his fingers, “Oh jagi~ You already did. Multiple times.”
“Oh …” He tilted his head to look at your smirking face, “Is that your way of accepting my apology?” You turned away from him but his hand had already gripped your jaw, turning you to look at him. He stares down at you, his eyes flickering down to your eyes to your lips. 
“Kiss me you freaky deaky.” His eyes disappear, laughing at your comment. His gummy smile showed as his cheeks flared, “Yah! Don’t call me that!”
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