#Body language and expression and angle guide my way

[kodasea]

Flat Color Headshot Sketch Commissions #1

[takes1]

daichi forgetting his manners

hey pookies :O i'm baaack! this is just a drabble i had in reserves that i spruced up when i got back from training! i'm backed up on requests rn so i will be trying to get those up in the coming weeks! thanks for all the interaction while i was away aahh! <3

warnings. lite!nsfw / minors dni. info. fem!reader / kinda wifey!reader / horny kissing / public displays of affection / sweaty!daichi / gruff daichi / 761 words full haikyuu collection/more daichi here. more links. my ao3. masterlist.

You waited, patient in the doorway, your tied up present clasped in your neatly folded hands.

"I'm sure he'll love it," Kiyoko told you at once, when you revealed that your boyfriend had no idea you were going to show up today.

Even though you weren't hiding, he still didn't see you while they finished up their intense practice match. He was lazer-focused into the game. He called some plays, shouted at others to direct and organize the court. You had watched countless matches, but you could never hear him speak so clearly before from the stands - his Captain voice was an exciting sound, to say the least.

It was so impressive on the ground level. You leaned on the entrance, completely satisfied lingering for a while to observe.

They gathered on his command, exchanged a few words, then shouted and dispersed to jog over to their waters.

It looked like a tie, from what you could tell. Neither of the 'teams' looked done yet, but they were all huffy and puffy, with glazed-over expressions and soaked shirts.

You watched from a curious angle, still unnoticed, and drank up the way Daichi slicked his drenched hair back, chest heaving at irregular intervals while he balanced breathing and hydrating.

"They've been really pushing themselves, huh?" You spoke off-handedly to Kiyoko.

She nodded, "It takes a lot."

"Yeah..." You sighed, smiling, "It makes me tired just watching them."

Daichi's glanced over the others, gauging their energy levels. He counted as he did this, then threw his attention over and shouted at two freshmen to get away from the net and drink their water.

It was evident that he had to think the most out of everyone there. He was never off-guard, even when they took breaks.

"(Y/n)'s heerre," Suga was the first to notice your presence.

He gave a smirky, hard elbow to his friend's side and motioned to the door before he could get mad at his unnecessary force.

You waved back to a few guys who heard him too; a smile filled your face at their all of their sweet, small greetings from a few feet over.

Daichi threw his head back, a big, beautiful grin capturing all of his built-up exhaustion well. His shoulders stooped, his body language already more relaxed at the sight of you in your cute little outfit.

There wasn't a time you could recall him looking more happy to see you. It left you very glad that you decided to pop up, today.

"I thought you might need something extra, since you've been practicing longer," You managed to squeak out.

It was difficult now that everyone was watching, sitting, standing, stretching. They drank their waters, all curious to see what you brought their captain.

Though, it seemed like it was only your concern.

Daichi didn't slow down when he walked up on you. You only had a moment to prepare yourself for a kiss.

"Fuuck, I love you so much," He groaned, quiet, but not quiet enough.

He was hot and heavy as he wrapped a strong arm around your middle and pulled you forward into a clumsy, passionate kiss.

There was no option to evade it-- a powerful hand guided you up, up, up to his lips, the other slipping carelessly under the back of your blouse.

"Mmhn," He giggled onto your soft, glossy lips.

He tasted like salt- like liquid salt. You didn't mind that part-- your tenseness derived more so from the fact that he was slipping his tongue past your teeth and fisting your shirt up your middle back.

His shoulders were red-hot to the touch when you pushed back on them. Your heart raced at the risque public display.

Before he finally pulled away, he made sure to suck all the gloss off of your bottom lip.

"Whadd'ya bring me?" His voice was low, and his eyes only something you saw in the bedroom.

"Uh-," You shuddered.

Your delicate top was now a little wet from being pressed into him, and you handed the cute, tied up box to him.

Mouth still parted, your panicked eyes darted around his sleepy-looking face, and you caught your breath, fingers shakily wiping the spit from the corners of your mouth and chin. It was impossible for you to not look to your right, where you met a dozen pairs of eyes before they all looked away at once.

Daichi followed your eyeline straight to Ukai's stern frown.

He cleared his throat and stood up straighter; a soft, "Damn," left his still-glistening lips.

[sevikaswifegurl]

Stained in Your Favorite

Hobie Brown X Black!F!Reader

Synopsis: You’ve never been good at choosing. But Hobie always knows — what suits you, what ruins you, what makes you lose yourself. And sometimes, all it takes for you to pick a nail color… is a video of him, with a cigarette between his fingers and full control in his eyes.

Warning: Explicit content, adult language.

word count: ~ 1200

Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance if there are any mistakes.

I don't know who the GIFT credits go to, I'm sorry. Credits for the great fanfic idea go to: @mcondance

You’ve never been great at making decisions. Something as simple as picking a nail color can ruin your whole day. Bright or neutral, short or long — it never feels right.

But Hobie? Hobie always knows exactly what works on you.

You’re parked outside the nail salon, already stressed about the color wheel waiting inside, when your phone lights up on the passenger seat. Message from him.

A video.

Caption: “this color.”

You press play — and immediately, your entire body reacts.

The video starts with Hobie leaned back on the couch, legs spread, his expression relaxed. You’re in his lap, straddling him, knees on either side of his hips. Riding him slow. Face to face. One of your hands grips his shoulder, the other is behind you for balance, and your hips roll forward in slow, fluid movements.

In his free hand? A lit cigarette, glowing faintly as he brings it to his lips and takes a drag.

Smoke curls around his face while the other hand films — angled just enough to catch the way you move on him. Up and down. Deep, smooth. Your breasts bounce softly with each roll of your hips, brushing against his chest when you press forward.

The camera shifts slightly. You see your nails — bright and glossy — wrapped around the curve of his neck, the color standing out even more against his dark skin and the hazy light of the room.

“Nails match the view, baby” he says, voice low and amused, blowing smoke off to the side before resting the cigarette between his fingers again. His other hand slides to your ass, guiding your rhythm like he’s done it a hundred times — because he has.

You moan softly in the video, rocking a little faster, the sounds of skin meeting skin growing louder. Your tits bounce harder now, moving freely as you ride him with more pressure, more need. He groans deep in his chest, the camera catching every second of it.

“Look at that” he murmurs, eyes focused on where you take him in so easily, so wet, “fuckin’ melting on me.”

You laugh breathlessly in the video, the sound cracking into a moan as you lean in and kiss him. The cigarette stays in his fingers, half-forgotten, smoke curling into your hair as he lets you take over — grinding harder, deeper, each bounce sending a little shockwave through your chest.

He finally sets the cigarette in the ashtray beside him, freeing both hands to grab your waist. He lifts you slightly, slamming you back down onto him, the camera trembling in his grip from the force.

"This color’s yours, mami. Mark it up real good."

Black screen.

You freeze, staring at your own reflection on the phone screen. Breath caught in your chest, body buzzing.

Choosing a nail color has never been so easy.

[rizztaep]

Through His Lens ( Hoseok Oneshot FF) | Smut Series #1 |

Sypnosis: Hoseok, the world-renowned photographer known for his raw, sensual shots, chooses you as his next muse. But this isn’t just any shoot. With each click of the camera, his lingering gaze and the way his fingers graze your skin blur the line between art and desire. The tension simmers—his voice low, his touch possessive—until the studio becomes a playground for passion. What starts as a photoshoot spirals into a heated, breathless encounter that feels like destiny snapping into place behind the lens.

Genre: Steamy Romance, Erotica, Artist x Muse, Slow Burn, One-shot, Smut

Themes: intimacy, sexual tension, passion through art, dominance and control, obsession, emotional vulnerability, smut

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, intense sensuality, language, mutual desire, unprotected s*x, body worship, fluff, smut; swearing, oral s*x (f. receiving, mentions of m., f*ngering, d*rty talk, public s*x, unprotected s*x (don't do it ffs), cre*mpie, ig

Note: Welcome to my Smut Series. I decided to start this series to test my creativity and hope you like this cuz i suck at writing smut.I'll post the jungkook version soon. Each of them are unique & steamy. Don't forget to like, reblog and comment. I accept requests.

---

( Smut Series MASTERLIST)

Hoseok was known in the underground circles of Seoul as the photographer. The one who didn’t just take pictures—he captured cravings. His art wasn’t clean and pretty; it was messy, human, vulnerable. Skin in raw light, lust frozen mid-motion, emotion in sharp angles. He saw what others couldn’t, and once he found a muse, he obsessed.

You met him at an art gala. Not the type you’d usually attend, but a friend dragged you there. Among champagne flutes and minimalist sculptures, your gaze met his from across the room. His stare was magnetic—bold and unblinking. As if he was already undressing you with his camera.

“You,” he said, approaching you without hesitation. “I want to shoot you.”

Your breath caught. “Excuse me?”

“I mean—photograph you,” he chuckled, licking his lips slightly. “But I won’t lie. You’ve got the kind of aura that belongs on my lens. You’re not just beautiful. You burn.”

You didn’t say yes immediately. It took three more encounters, each one more intense than the last. By the time you agreed, Hoseok already knew your favorite expressions, the tilt of your head when you were shy, the way you bit your lip when unsure.

-

His studio was dim, golden, soaked in warm shadows. Sensual music hummed from a speaker—bass-heavy, slow. He handed you a silk robe and asked if you were comfortable showing skin. You weren’t sure why, but you trusted him.

You slipped out of your top in the dressing room, pulling the robe over bare skin, feeling its cool touch graze your curves. When you stepped into the studio, Hoseok’s eyes flicked up slowly. His pupils were blown. He swallowed hard, then lifted his camera.

Click. Click. Click.

He circled you like a predator, shutter snapping in rhythm with his low, deep breaths.

“Let the robe slide off your shoulder… good… now turn your head—yeah, like that.”

He stepped closer. “Mind if I adjust you?”

You nodded. His hands landed on your hips. His touch was warm, deliberate, just firm enough. He guided your pose, but your breath hitched when his fingers brushed the inside of your thigh. You weren’t sure if it was intentional—but god, it made your skin burn.

“You’re distracting,” he murmured. “I can barely focus.”

Your robe slipped a little more. Your back arched instinctively under his command. He was no longer just shooting a model. You had become his craving.

You gasped when his hand slid up your spine—so slow, so deliberate. There was no pretense now. His fingers traced your skin like it was art, like he was learning the path to your pleasure with each stroke.

“I can’t keep pretending this is just photography,” he breathed, voice low, thick with hunger. His eyes burned into yours, wild and reverent.

“Then don’t,” you said, barely above a whisper.

The moment shattered.

He dropped the camera—let it hang by its strap—then crossed the space between you like a storm. His hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling your mouth to his.

It wasn’t a kiss—it was a claiming. His lips slanted over yours with a hunger that left you gasping. Tongue sliding in, tasting you like he needed it. He moaned into your mouth when your fingers fisted his shirt, tugging him closer, nails raking down his chest.

Your robe slipped from your shoulders entirely, a quiet whisper of silk pooling at your feet. You stood before him bare—exposed, powerful. He stepped back a half-step, eyes dragging over your body like a prayer.

“God,” he groaned. “You're fcking divine. My muse. My sin.”

He dropped to his knees. Worship in every movement. His hands gripped your thighs—firm, possessive. He pressed kisses to your inner thigh, slow and dragging, lips soft and tongue teasing. You gasped when he finally buried his mouth between your p*ssy.

Hot. Wet. Slow. He licked a long stripe up your clit, groaning like you were his favorite flavor. His tongue circled your clit, flicked it, then flattened against it. Your knees buckled as he sucked—deep and rhythmically. One hand pinned your hip down, the other sliding up to toy with your nipple, fingers slick with your arousal.

He devoured you.

Moans slipped from your lips, breath hitching as your thighs trembled. He pulled your leg over his shoulder, burying his face deeper. “You taste like fcking heaven,” he rasped before licking you again—slow and firm, tongue stroking every pulse point.

Your body arched—shaking, unraveling. You felt the pressure coil in your belly, the wave building with every flick, every suck, every filthy sound he made while eating you like a man starved.

When your orgasm hit, it wasn’t soft—it slammed into you. Your body shook, mouth open in a silent scream as he held you through it, licking you through every spasm, every twitch. He didn’t stop. His tongue slowed, gentle now, drawing out every drop of your pleasure.

“Get on the couch,” he commanded, voice gravel. “I need to f*ck you.”

You were still trembling as you laid back, legs open, thighs glistening with his spit and your release. He stripped off his shirt—his body golden, lean muscle defined, veins prominent down his arms. His belt unbuckled with a loud clink. Your eyes dropped to the bulge in his boxers, thick and dripping at the tip.

“See what you do to me?” he growled, pulling his d*ck free. It was big, heavy, flushed dark with need. He stroked himself once, twice, groaning low.

He climbed over you, mouth finding your throat, then your chest—kissing, sucking, marking. His hands cupped your tits, thumbs circling your nips until you were whimpering, hips grinding up toward his.

When he lined himself at your entrance, he paused. “Look at me,” he whispered.

Your eyes met his. He pushed in—slow, deep, stretching you inch by inch.

You moaned loud, head falling back. He groaned at the feel of you around him, thick and buried to the hilt. “So f-kin tight. So perfect. You were made for me.”

His thrusts began slow—deliberate, deep, body rolling against yours in slow-motion rhythm. Each stroke rubbed against that spot that made you cry out. He kept his gaze on you, watching every flicker of pleasure in your expression. “That’s it,” he whispered. “Let me see all of you.”

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down for another kiss. This one was softer—sweet, slow, tongues brushing in sync with the slow, grinding thrust of his hips.

Then he grabbed your thighs, pushed your knees up, and slammed into you harder.

The pace changed—deeper, faster, rougher. Skin met skin in sticky slaps. Your moans grew louder, his grunts deeper. He grabbed your ass, angling you just right, hitting your — with every ruthless thrust.

You were lost—sweating, gasping, body thrashing beneath him as he fck into you like a man possessed.

“You’re gonna come again,” he growled.

“Come on, baby. Let me feel it.”

You shattered.

Eyes rolling back, fingers clawing his back, you came with a scream. Your body pulsed around him, squeezing, milking him. That set him off.

With a loud groan, he drove in once, twice more—then buried himself deep, shaking as he came, moaning your name. His warmth spilled inside you in hot, slow waves.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you trembling, spent, slick with sweat and each other.

---

The first round left you both breathless. But the hunger in Hoseok’s eyes hadn’t dimmed—it had deepened. His touch became gentler, more reverent, but laced with simmering intensity.

You lay together on the velvet couch, your skin flushed, your breath slowing. He trailed his fingers down your side, eyes fixed on every tiny reaction you gave him. The goosebumps. The twitch of your thigh. The way your chest rose when he leaned close.

“Still with me?” he asked, voice hoarse.

You nodded, lips parted. “Don’t stop.”

His hand slid lower.

“I wasn’t going to.”

He kissed you again, but slower this time. Like he was memorizing the shape of your lips, the taste of your breath. His mouth moved down—along your jaw, the slope of your neck, the dip of your collarbone. Each kiss made your body ache more, your hips shifting toward him instinctively.

Then he sank to his knees again, spreading your legs apart slowly, reverently. His eyes darkened.

“You’re trembling,” he whispered. “So f—king beautiful like this.”

He didn’t dive in right away this time. No. This time, he kissed the inside of your knee, then your inner thigh. His breath fanned over your heat. You whimpered.

“Hoseok…”

He smirked against your skin. “Say it again.”

“Hoseok, please…”

“Good girl.”

Then his mouth met you again—and this time, he took his time.

His tongue moved in slow, languid strokes. Deep and purposeful. His mouth sucked, licked, circled you until your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. He groaned into you, the vibration shooting through your core. You gasped, arching.

He held your thighs apart, strong and commanding, eating you like he had nowhere else to be, like worshiping your body was his new religion. Every moan, every shiver you gave him only made him hungrier.

“I want to feel you fall apart,” he growled, pulling back just enough to speak. “Right on my tongue.”

And you did.

Your climax ripped through you, sharp and blinding. Your legs clamped around his head, your back arched, your moans shameless and wild. He didn’t stop—not until you were twitching, breathless, wrecked.

He kissed your thighs one last time before rising.

But now it was his turn to be undone.

He grabbed your wrist gently, pulling you up. “Your turn to touch me.”

You pushed him back onto the couch, straddling his lap. You kissed his neck, his chest, tracing every line of his abs with your tongue. You could feel his hard, hot, throbbing d*ck pressing against your thigh. He groaned, head falling back as you reached down and stroked him, slow and teasing.

“You’re evil,” he growled, breath hitching. “You’re going to ruin me.”

You smiled.

“Good.”

You sank down on him inch by inch, and both of you gasped. This time, it was deep, slow, intimate. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your rhythm. Every thrust, every roll of your hips was deliberate—dragged out, sensual. The room was filled with wet sounds, gasps, moans, the slap of skin.

He leaned up, kissed your tits, sucked your nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking as you rocked harder. You threw your head back, grinding, chasing that high again.

“You feel so good,” he groaned. “So f—king tight… I could die like this.”

You rode him faster. His hands roamed your back, your ass, gripping you like he couldn’t believe you were real. You were soaked. Slick. Each bounce made you both cry out. He wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your neck, kissing your skin between filthy, whispered praises.

“Mine,” he muttered. “You’re mine now.”

You lost control when he reached down and rubbed your clit in sync with his thrusts. Your body shattered again, trembling violently, muscles clenching around him. He cursed, throwing his head back.

“I’m—f—k, I’m gonna—”

You kissed him hard as he spilled into you with a broken moan, hips stuttering, his hands gripping you like you were the only thing anchoring him to earth.

He held you afterward like you were made of glass. Pressed soft kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your lips. Whispered things into your skin he wouldn’t say out loud.

“You’re the only one I see now. The only one I want.”

You fell asleep wrapped in each other, bodies still warm, hearts still racing. And in the quiet, Hoseok looked at you like he’d found the one image he’d never stop chasing.

---

(Fin) ( smut series MASTERLIST)

[lila-lou]

✨Obsessed - Pt. 2✨

Summary: After weeks of searching, you finally found Dean. However, he was no longer the man you had been in love with- but more importantly, no longer the man who never returned your love. Because now, in his twisted state, he was somehow obsessed with you.

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, Angst, Hurt, Violence, Humiliation, naive reader

Word Count: 6577

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

When you woke up, the room was filled with the soft light of dawn. Dean was still beside you, his breathing steady and deep. You watched him for a moment, taking in the peaceful expression on his face.

Suddenly, Dean shifted, his eyes cracking open slightly. He caught you staring at him and grumbled, “Stop staring at me”. His voice was rough with sleep, but there was a teasing edge to it.

Before you could respond, he reached out and gave your ass a hard squeeze under the blanket, making you wince. “Ow!”, you exclaimed softly.

You were ready to talk about last night, but before you could say anything, Dean seemed to sense what you wanted to discuss. To prevent the conversation, he pulled you with a firm grip onto his lap, urging you onto your knees. You gasped, completely caught off guard as he grabbed his erection and brushed the tip over your clit.

“Dean, wait”, you tried to protest, your voice shaky and uncertain. But the sensation of his touch, combined with the surprise of the moment, left you breathless.

“Shh”, he murmured, his voice low and commanding.

Dean used the hot tip of his erection to brush over your clit, each movement sending shivers of pleasure through your body. He was relentless, knowing exactly how to get you wet and ready for him. Your breath hitched, your hands gripping his shoulders for support as your body responded to his touch.

“Dean”, you gasped, your voice trembling with a mix of protest and desire. “We need to talk about—”.

“Not now”, he interrupted, his voice firm.

You bit your lip, torn between the need to address the previous night and the overwhelming sensations he was eliciting. As he continued to tease you, your body began to give in, a slick wetness forming between your thighs. The tip of his erection moved with expert precision, brushing against your clit in a way that made you arch your back and moan softly.

“See?”, he murmured, his lips grazing your ear. “I know what you need”.

Without warning, Dean grabbed you by your hipbones and pushed you down onto his thick cock. The sudden, intense angle made you cry out, a mix of pleasure and the lingering soreness from the night before overwhelming your senses. He filled you completely, stretching you in a way that was both painful and exquisite.

“Dean”, you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders. The fullness, the pressure, the heat of him inside you—it was almost too much.

He groaned, the sound deep and primal, his hands tightening on your hips. “Fuck, you feel so good”, he muttered, his voice thick with desire. He began to move, lifting you slightly before pulling you back down onto him, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

You tried to brace yourself, your hands gripping his shoulders as he set a relentless pace. The soreness and the pleasure blended together, creating a heady mix that left you breathless.

"Dean”, you moaned, your voice trembling.

He stopped his movements, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. “Move”, he urged, his voice a low growl. “I want to watch you ride me”.

Your breath hitched at his command, but you nodded, willing your body to comply. Slowly, you began to move, lifting yourself slightly before sinking back down onto him. The sensation was overwhelming, the mix of soreness and pleasure almost too much to bear.

Dean’s hands stayed on your hips, guiding you as you found a rhythm. “That’s it”, he groaned, his eyes dark with desire. “Just like that”.

You moved with him, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. Each motion sent waves of pleasure through you, building steadily until it was all you could focus on.

Dean’s grip on your hips tightened as he watched you intently. “You’re so good at this”, he groaned, his voice filled with a mix of amazement and lust. “For someone who wasn’t fucked until yesterday, you’re damn perfect at it”.

His words sent a new wave of heat through you, making you moan louder as you rode him. The combination of his praise and the intense sensations of being so deeply connected to him was intoxicating.

“I can’t… it’s so much…”.

“You’re doing so good”, he murmured, his hands guiding your movements. “Just let go, Y/N. Let me see you come again”.

You felt yourself teetering on the edge, the pleasure overwhelming. With a few more thrusts, you were pushed over, your body convulsing as your climax ripped through you. You cried out his name, your nails digging into his shoulders as you rode out the intense waves of pleasure.

Dean followed you over the edge, his own release shuddering through him as he buried himself deep inside you. His hands gripped you tightly, holding you close as you both came down from the intense high.

Breathing heavily, you collapsed against his chest, your body still trembling from the aftershocks. You felt beyond weak, your face flush against his naked chest as he held you close, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

Dean chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear. “Damn, Y/N, you’re already a natural”, he teased, his voice a mix of amusement and pride.

You winced slightly, the soreness making itself known as you shifted against him. “I didn’t think it would be this intense”, you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Dean’s grin softened into something more tender. He leaned in, biting your neck gently, just enough to make you shiver. “You’ll get used to it”, he mumbled against your skin, his breath warm and tantalizing.

His words, combined with the feel of his teeth and lips on your neck, sent another wave of heat through you. Despite the soreness, there was something incredibly comforting about his confidence and the way he held you. “Dean…”, you started, but your voice trailed off, unsure of what to say next.

He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes with a mix of affection and amusement. “Trust me, Y/N”, he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “It’ll get easier".

You nodded, feeling reassured by his words. “Okay”, you whispered.

Over the next few days, you and Dean spent almost all your time together. Mostly, you spent it tangled in each other’s arms, exploring the newfound intensity of your "relationship". Dean showed you a lot, teaching you about pleasure and pushing your boundaries. Though he tried hard to hold back and control himself, your body was now covered in bruises. The marks were a testament to his passion and your vulnerability.

He seemed to lack any real sympathy for the bruises, and your days together were devoid of genuine feelings, soft kisses, and tender moments. The coldness in his demeanor during the day contrasted sharply with the way he sometimes watched you at night, brushing his fingers gently over your body while you slept.

Still, you stayed, because having Dean’s attention solely on you was intoxicating. His possessiveness, his raw desire, and the way he looked out for you made you feel needed, even if the emotional connection was strained.

Sometimes, you caught glimpses of the old Dean, the one who cared deeply, but those moments were fleeting.

During the nights, you often woke up to find him watching you with an unreadable expression on his face. His touch was gentle then, almost reverent, as if he was afraid to break the fragile bond between you. But come morning, the tenderness would vanish, replaced by a cool detachment that made your heart ache.

Despite his coldness, Dean ensured you were always looked after. He made sure you ate, rested, and had everything you needed. His way of caring was practical, but it was there nonetheless.

Unknown to you, the new Dean, the twisted version of him, was obsessed with you. If he could feel love, he would be in love with you. This obsession drove his actions, his need to possess and protect you in his own, often harsh, way.

One evening, you and Dean decided to go to a bar. It was a rare outing, a chance to escape the intensity of the motel room for a little while. You hoped that a change of scenery might help ease some of the tension between you.

The bar was dimly lit and crowded, a typical dive with the smell of beer and faint smoke lingering in the air. Dean found a table while you went to the bar to get drinks for both of you. As you waited for the bartender to fill your order, you felt a presence behind you, too close for comfort.

“Hey there”, a guy said, leaning in. His breath smelled strongly of alcohol. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone?”.

“I’m not alone”, you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m here with someone”.

The guy ignored your words, his hand sliding down to grab your ass. You gasped, freezing in shock.

But before you could react further, Dean was there. His eyes darkened with a deadly intensity, and without hesitation, he grabbed the guy by the throat, lifting him effortlessly. With a guttural growl, Dean slammed the man through the window, glass shattering around them as they crashed onto the pavement outside.

You stood still frozen, watching in horror as Dean followed with heavy, threatening steps. The cool night air hit your face as you stepped through the broken window, your heart pounding in your chest.

The man lay on the ground, dazed and bloodied from the fall. Dean didn’t hesitate. He loomed over the man, fists clenched, and then he began to punch, each blow landing with sickening force. The guy’s face quickly turned into a bloody mess, his cries for mercy growing weaker with every hit.

“Dean, stop!", you screamed, rushing forward. “You’re going to kill him!”.

Dean’s eyes flickered to you for a brief second, but he didn’t stop. The rage and obsession had taken over, his need to protect and possess you blinding him to everything else.

You grabbed his arm, trying to pull him away. “Dean, please!”.

It took a moment, but your voice finally seemed to reach him. Dean paused, breathing heavily, his fists covered in blood. He looked down at the nearly unconscious man, then back at you, his expression a mix of anger and confusion.

“He touched you”, Dean muttered, as if that justified everything.

Before you could respond, a few other men from the bar rushed over, trying to pull Dean away from the beaten man. “Hey, back off!”, one of them shouted, grabbing Dean's arm.

Dean's rage reignited instantly. He turned, swinging his fist and connecting with the man’s jaw, sending him sprawling. Another man lunged at Dean, only to receive a brutal punch to the stomach, doubling him over in pain. Dean was unstoppable, his anger and strength overwhelming anyone who dared to come near him.

“Dean, stop!”, you cried, desperately trying to pull him away. Your hands wrapped around his arm, but he was like a force of nature, shaking you off as if you weighed nothing.

One more man stepped forward, but Dean's punch landed before the guy could even react, sending him crashing to the ground. The scene was chaotic, people shouting and backing away, afraid of getting caught in the crossfire.

“Dean!”, you screamed, tears streaming down your face. “Please, stop!”.

Summoning all the strength you had, you launched yourself at Dean, pushing him with everything you had. He stumbled, caught off guard by your sudden force, and fell to the ground. For a moment, his eyes were wild with rage, but then he looked up and saw you, tears streaming down your face, desperation etched in every line.

“Dean, please”, you begged, your voice breaking. “We need to leave. Just leave with me. Please”.

Dean was still fucking furious, but he followed you, his steps heavy with residual rage. Once back at the motel, he went straight to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. You heard the water running as he began to clean himself from all the blood. He didn’t pay any attention to you, leaving you standing alone in the small, dimly lit room.

You lingered in the doorway, your heart still racing from the night’s events. Your phone buzzed, drawing your attention. It was another message from Sam, asking where you were. For days now, you’d been ignoring his messages, knowing that if you told him the truth, he’d come rushing to save you both. And then, everything would change. Dean would go back to being your friend, and you’d lose the intense, albeit twisted, connection you had with him now.

Even though this version of Dean was far from the man you fell in love with, his attention was something you craved. It lacked gentleness, but it was still him, and you couldn’t bear the thought of losing that.

You typed a quick response to Sam, a vague excuse about needing space and time to figure things out, and sent it off before you could second-guess yourself. Then, you leaned against the wall, trying to gather your thoughts.

Dean emerged from the bathroom, his hair wet and his face clean, though his eyes still held a storm of emotions. He glanced at you briefly before grabbing a towel to dry off.

“Are you okay?”, you asked softly, your voice trembling slightly.

Dean snapped his head toward you, his eyes flashing with irritation. "Stop asking stupid questions", he growled. "Get your clothes off".

The harshness of his words stung, and you flinched. He was already pulling off his bloodied shirt, the muscles in his arms and chest tense with residual anger. You hesitated, the conflicting emotions warring within you. Part of you wanted to reach out and soothe him, to find the gentle Dean hidden beneath the rage, but another part of you feared provoking him further.

"Dean…", you started, your voice wavering.

"Now", he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Swallowing your apprehension, you slowly began to undress, your hands trembling. Dean watched you intently, his eyes dark. You knew this wasn't the way you wanted things to be, but the need for his attention, for any connection, overpowered your doubts.

Once you were undressed, Dean stepped closer, his hands rough as they gripped your hips. He pulled you against him, his breath hot and heavy against your neck. "You're mine", he muttered, his voice a low growl.

You nodded, your heart pounding. "Yes, Dean".

He pushed you towards the bed, his movements urgent and commanding. You lay down, the cool sheets contrasting sharply with the heat of his body as he climbed over you. His touch was rough, his kisses demanding, but you clung to him, needing the intensity of his presence.

"Don't ever leave me", he murmured against your skin, his voice a mixture of anger and desperation.

"I won't", you promised, your hands tangling in his hair. "I won't".

As he moved over you, the passion and need between you were overwhelming. Despite the roughness, there was a moment of connection, a fleeting glimpse of the Dean you loved. You held onto that, hoping that together, you could find a way through the darkness.

The night passed in a blur of heat and intensity, leaving you both exhausted and tangled in each other's arms.

It had been over two months since you had blocked Sam, fully immersing yourself in this dark and twisted relationship with Dean. The intensity of your love for him had clouded your judgment, making it impossible for you to imagine life without him. You knew it was selfish and wrong, but you couldn’t help it. Your love for him was too strong, and you were addicted to him in a way that consumed you entirely. And he was addicted to you, though his addiction was not born of love but of possession and control.

Over the weeks, Dean had grown even more violent. His sexual needs had become more humiliating and bloody, leaving you with cuts and bruises that you bore like marks of devotion. Despite the escalating violence, your feelings for him didn’t wane. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave him, and the pain had become a part of your existence, almost comforting in its familiarity. You had become used to being naked in front of Dean, your body a canvas of his rough affection.

Now, you sat on the edge of the bathtub, trying to fix your arm that Dean had probably broken just minutes ago as he pinned you to the mattress. You hissed at the pain, the sharp ache a reminder of the night’s brutality. You were still naked, your skin marked with fresh bruises. By now, the pain was something you had come to expect, and in a twisted way, you had learned to find a perverse comfort in it. It was all you had ever known with Dean—sex that was intertwined with pain, not love.

As you tried to stabilize your arm, Dean walked into the bathroom. He stood in the doorway, watching you with a mixture of satisfaction and something darker.

“Are you fixing yourself up, sweetheart?”, he asked, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.

You nodded, wincing as you moved your arm. “Yeah, I think it’s broken”, you admitted, your voice trembling slightly.

Dean stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “Let me see”, he demanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. He reached out, his touch rough as he examined your arm.

You winced as he pulled on it too harshly, a sharp pain shooting through you.

“Careful”, you whispered, biting back tears. His grip on your arm tightened momentarily before he eased up, his expression unreadable.

“You’ll live”, he said flatly, releasing your arm. “Just wrap it up”.

You bit your lip, trying to do as he said, but each attempt sent sharp, agonizing pain shooting through your arm. Your fingers fumbled with the bandage, your vision blurring with unshed tears. The pain seemed to grow stronger with every failed attempt, your frustration mounting.

“Damn it”, you muttered under your breath, wincing as you tried once more to secure the bandage. The movements were awkward and clumsy, your broken arm refusing to cooperate. The fabric slipped from your grasp again, and you let out a small, involuntary cry of pain.

Dean, who had been watching your struggle with growing irritation, finally had enough. “For fuck’s sake”, he snapped, stepping forward. “Give it here”.

You hesitated, looking up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. His expression was hard, but there was a glimmer of something else—perhaps a shadow of concern. Reluctantly, you handed him the bandage, your hands trembling.

“Sit back down”, he ordered. You obeyed, sitting down gingerly, your arm cradled against your chest.

Dean knelt in front of you, taking your injured arm with a rough but surprisingly steady grip. “Hold still”, he muttered, focusing on the task at hand. He wrapped the bandage around your arm with practiced efficiency, his movements swift and precise.

Despite the pain, you couldn’t help but notice the care he was taking, even if his touch was rough. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. You winced again as he tightened the bandage, but he didn’t pause, working quickly to secure it in place.

“There”, he said finally, tying off the bandage with a firm knot. He looked up at you. “That should hold”.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Thank you”, you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Dean’s gaze softened for just a moment before the hardness returned. He stood up, his expression unreadable. “Don’t make me have to do this again”, he warned, his voice low. “You need to toughen up”.

You nodded again, not trusting yourself to speak. The pain in your arm was still sharp, but the bandage was secure, holding it in place. You could feel the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin, a confusing mix of comfort and fear.

Dean turned away, his attention already shifting to something else. “Get dressed”, he said over his shoulder. “We’ve got things to do”.

Slowly, you stood up, moving to get dressed. Each movement sent a jolt of pain through your arm, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through it.

Getting dressed was proving to be just as difficult as wrapping your arm. The pain made every movement a struggle, and you could feel Dean's growing impatience. He had already finished dressing and was standing by the door, watching you with irritation.

You had only managed to pull your panties up to your mid-thighs when you felt his eyes on you, burning with frustration. Your fingers fumbled with the fabric, your injured arm throbbing with every movement. You bit your lip, trying to push through the pain, but it was clear you were struggling.

"You can't even dress yourself?", Dean growled, stepping forward.

You looked up at him, tears of frustration and pain welling in your eyes. "I'm trying", you whispered, your voice shaking.

Dean's jaw tightened, and without another word, he knelt down in front of you. His hands were rough as he grabbed the waistband of your panties, yanking them up with little regard for your comfort. You winced, biting back a cry of pain.

"Stand up", he ordered.

You complied, standing on unsteady legs as he pulled your panties the rest of the way up. He then reached for your jeans, holding them open for you. "Step in", he commanded.

You did as he said, lifting one leg and then the other, trying to ignore the pain that shot through your arm with every movement. Dean pulled the jeans up, fastening them quickly. His touch was rough and impatient, but there was an efficiency to his movements that spoke of someone who was used to taking charge.

Next, he grabbed your shirt, helping you slide your uninjured arm through the sleeve before carefully guiding your broken arm through the other. You winced as the fabric brushed against your bandage, but Dean didn't pause, buttoning the shirt with quick, practiced motions.

"Now let's go".

You nodded, swallowing hard. "Thank you", you whispered again, your voice barely audible.

Dean didn't respond, just grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. You followed him, your heart pounding. Despite the pain and the roughness, there was a strange comfort in knowing he was taking care of you, even if it was in his own twisted way.

As you walked out into the cool night air, Dean's hand gripped your wrist tightly, leading you with a sense of urgency. You didn't know where he was taking you, but it didn't matter. You would follow him anywhere, endure anything, as long as it meant staying by his side.

The night was dark and filled with the sounds of the city, a stark contrast to the intensity of your relationship. As you walked, you couldn't help but wonder how long you could continue living like this. But for now, you were his, and that was all that mattered.

Again, you found yourself in a bar, the dim lighting and stale smell of alcohol a familiar backdrop to the chaos that had become your life. Dean's grip on your wrist was firm as he led you inside, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on someone sitting in a dark corner.

"Go, get yourself a drink", he ordered, his voice low and commanding. "I got something to do. Don’t interrupt me".

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. Dean released your wrist, and you watched as he walked over to Crowley, who sat in the corner with his back turned. Crowley didn’t see you, and you knew Dean didn’t want him to spot you, not wanting Crowley to spill any beans to Sam.

As Dean approached Crowley, you made your way to the bar, your movements slow and deliberate to avoid aggravating your injured arm. The bartender glanced at you, raising an eyebrow as you settled onto a stool.

"Whiskey, neat", you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you.

The bartender nodded and poured the drink, sliding it over to you. You took a sip, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through your chest and helping to dull the pain. You kept your eyes on Dean and Crowley, watching them from a distance while trying to remain inconspicuous.

Dean leaned in close to Crowley, his posture tense and aggressive. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but you could see the intensity in Dean's expression, the way his fists clenched at his sides. Crowley seemed unfazed, a smug smile playing on his lips as he listened.

You took another sip of your whiskey, trying to focus on anything but the pain in your arm and the gnawing worry in your gut. The bar was noisy, filled with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses, but it all felt distant, like you were watching it through a fog.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours, and you began to feel restless. The urge to go to Dean, to make sure he was okay, was almost overwhelming, but you remembered his order. Don’t interrupt me.

Finally, Dean stood up, his movements sharp and decisive. Crowley remained seated, his expression still smug as he watched Dean walk away. Dean's eyes flicked over to you, and he gave a slight nod, signaling you to follow him.

You downed the rest of your whiskey and slid off the stool, your legs feeling unsteady as you made your way over to him.

As soon as you were outside, the cool night air hit you, a stark contrast to the warmth of the bar. Dean's pace was quick, and you struggled to keep up, the pain in your arm flaring with each step.

"What did Crowley want?", you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Dean glanced at you, his expression hard. "Nothing you need to worry about", he replied curtly. "Just stick close to me and do as I say".

You nodded, swallowing hard. "Okay".

He stopped suddenly, turning to face you. "I mean it, Y/N. No more questions, no more interference. Just do what I tell you, and everything will be fine".

You could see the intensity in his eyes, the underlying anger and frustration. You nodded again, more firmly this time. "I understand".

"Good", he muttered. "Let's get back to the motel".

Two days later, your arm had gotten noticeably worse. It was definitely broken, the pain now a constant, throbbing reminder of your predicament. Having Dean screw you all over the cheap motel room didn’t help at all. In fact, it only exacerbated the injury. Every thrust, every movement sent jolts of agony through your arm, but you bore it without complaint. You couldn’t risk upsetting Dean.

This time, you found yourself bent over a creaking table, trying to shift your weight as Dean pounded into you from behind. Your broken arm made it difficult to maintain your balance, and the pain was becoming unbearable. As you attempted to brace yourself against the table, you slipped, your stomach smashing right against the edge of the desk. The impact left you gasping for breath, tears springing to your eyes.

Luckily for you, Dean was close to finishing. Seconds later, he spilled his cum on your back, groaning heavily as he withdrew. You remained in place, your body trembling from the pain and exhaustion.

Dean stepped back, zipping up his jeans as he glanced at you. “You good?”, he asked, his tone lacking any real concern.

You nodded weakly, trying to steady your breathing. “Yeah”, you lied.

Dean didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t press the issue. “Clean yourself up”, he muttered, heading to the bathroom. “And get dressed. We’ve got to head out soon”.

You tried to stand up straight, but the pain in your arm and stomach made it nearly impossible. Every movement was a grim reminder of the severity of your injuries. You steadied yourself against the table, taking slow, deliberate breaths to manage the pain and quell the nausea that threatened to overwhelm you.

Once you felt slightly more stable, you began the arduous task of cleaning yourself up. You reached for a towel with your good arm, gently wiping away the remnants from your back. The simple action caused your broken arm to throb painfully, and you winced, biting back a cry.

Dean came back from the bathroom, his expression unreadable. He found you still naked, but at least clean. He paused, his eyes scanning over your bruised and battered body.

“You’re still not dressed?”, he asked, his tone carrying a hint of annoyance.

You bit your lip, looking down at the floor. “I… I think I should stay here”, you mumbled, your voice barely audible. “I��m too sore to walk, and my arm… it’s really bad”.

Dean’s gaze hardened, but he didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he took a step closer, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. “You’re saying you can’t handle it?”, he asked, his voice low.

You shook your head quickly, panic rising in your chest. “No, it’s not that”, you stammered. “I just… I don’t want to slow you down. My arm hurts a lot, and I’m afraid I might not be able to keep up”.

For a moment, you thought he might lash out, but then he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Fine”, he muttered. “Stay here and rest. But don’t think this means you can just take it easy”.

Relief washed over you, and you nodded.

“I’ll be back in a few hours”, he said, heading for the door. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone”.

You watched as he left, the door closing behind him with a heavy thud. Once he was gone, you let out a shaky breath, the tension in your body slowly easing. The pain in your arm was still intense, but at least you had a brief reprieve.

Carefully, you made your way to the bed, lying down and cradling your injured arm against your chest. The mattress felt surprisingly soft beneath you, and you closed your eyes, hoping that a bit of rest might help ease the pain.

By the time Dean got back, you had drifted into a fitful sleep, still naked and vulnerable on the bed. He stood in the doorway for a moment, watching your bruised body lay there, his eyes narrowing in a mixture of annoyance and something else—something almost like concern. He rolled his eyes at your weak appearance and walked over to you.

Without caring if he would wake you up, which he of course did, he grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you into a sitting position. The sudden movement made you gasp in pain and confusion, your eyes fluttering open to see Dean's stern face inches from yours.

"Get up", he muttered, reaching for one of his shirts. Despite his rough demeanor, he handled your broken arm with a surprising gentleness, slipping the sleeve over it carefully before pulling the rest of the shirt over your head. The fabric was warm and smelled like him, providing a small comfort amidst the chaos.

"Dean, what—", you started, but he cut you off with a sharp look.

"You're not lying here naked when I get back", he snapped. "You're gonna get dressed and be ready for anything".

You nodded, biting back the questions and pain that were bubbling up inside you. His hands surprisingly steady and almost tender as he buttoned the shirt.

"There", he said gruffly, stepping back to look at you. "Now you don't look completely useless".

"I'm sorry", you whispered, feeling a mix of shame and gratitude.

Dean's expression softened just a fraction, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face. "Just… don't make me worry", he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't deal with that right now".

You nodded, your heart aching at the rare glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes. "I won't", you promised.

"And I can't have you falling apart on me".

"I'll be okay", you assured him, though you weren't entirely sure if you believed it yourself.

Dean looked around the room, his eyes scanning for some fresh panties among the scattered clothes. He found a pair and walked back over to you. You were more hanging there than sitting, your body barely holding itself up.

“Lift your legs”, he instructed gently, his voice a low rumble. You complied, your movements sluggish and pained. Dean slid the panties over your feet and up your legs, his touch surprisingly careful as he pulled them into place.

“You look like hell”, he muttered, not unkindly, as he adjusted the waistband.

“I feel like it”, you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so tired, Dean”.

Dean sighed, his hands resting on your hips for a moment before he stood back. Without warning, he pushed you half gently, half roughly back into the mattress. The movement made you wince, but you could see the concern flicker in his eyes, however briefly.

"Sleep", he ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

You lay there, feeling the exhaustion and pain weighing down on you more than ever. Today was different. You felt worse, more vulnerable, and a desperate need for comfort bubbled up inside you. Swallowing your fear, you decided to take a chance.

"Dean", you whispered, your voice trembling. "Can you… can you hold me? Just for a little while?".

He stared at you, his expression hardening. You knew he hated this kind of vulnerability, hated being asked for tenderness. But you couldn't help it. You needed him, needed to feel some semblance of care and safety.

For a moment, you thought he might refuse. His jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed, but then he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "Fine", he muttered, clearly reluctant.

He lay down beside you, his movements stiff and awkward. Slowly, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his body and the strength of his embrace made you feel safer, despite the roughness that usually defined your relationship.

"Just for a little while", he said gruffly, as if needing to remind himself.

You nodded, burying your face in his chest. "Thank you", you whispered, feeling a tear slip down your cheek.

Dean didn't respond, but he didn't push you away either. His hold on you was firm, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to relax. The pain in your arm and the bruises covering your body seemed to fade slightly in the presence of his embrace.

As you drifted off to sleep, you couldn't help but wonder if this small act of kindness could be the start of something better. You clung to that hope, letting it carry you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

And for now, that was enough.

It wasn’t until 4 in the morning when you were startled awake by a hand pressing firmly over your mouth. Panic surged through you, but before you could fully process what was happening, there was a sudden, disorienting sensation and a flash of light. In an instant, you found yourself in the familiar yet foreboding interior of the bunker.

The cold metal of chains around your wrists bit into your skin, and as your eyes adjusted to the dim light, you saw Dean struggling against his own restraints within a devil’s trap. His face was contorted in rage, eyes wild with fury. You were chained up too, but at the side, where you could see everything clearly. Sam and Castiel stood a bit off, watching the scene unfold with a mix of determination and sorrow.

Dean was yelling, screaming, and cursing, his voice echoing off the walls of the bunker. “Let me out! I’ll kill you! I’ll rip you apart!”.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you took in the chaotic scene, finally rallying fully awake. The reality of the situation hit you hard, and you felt a wave of emotions—fear, confusion, and a twisted sense of relief.

“Dean, stop!”, Sam shouted, stepping closer but staying outside the devil’s trap. “This isn’t you! We’re trying to help you!”.

Dean’s response was a guttural growl, his muscles straining against the chains. “Help me? You call this helping? I’ll make you pay for this, Sammy. I’ll—”.

Sam, unable to bear any more of Dean’s vitriolic threats, stepped forward with a flask of holy water. “Sorry, Dean”, he muttered before spilling it over his brother. Dean screamed, his flesh sizzling where the water made contact, the sound tearing through the air like a banshee’s wail.

“Sam, no!”, you yelled, struggling against your chains. “Stop it! Let me go! You have to let me help him!”.

Sam turned to you, his expression a mixture of anger and sorrow. “I can’t, Y/N. You’ll be free when Dean’s Dean again”.

“Please, Sam!”, you begged, tears streaming down your face. “I can’t just watch this!”.

He shook his head firmly, his eyes hard. “What the hell were you thinking?”, he demanded, his voice rising with emotion. “Playing Dean’s sick games, blocking me, and not reaching out? Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?”.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Sam cut you off, his voice trembling with frustration. “I don’t trust your decisions anymore, Y/N. They’re obviously not rational”.

He gestured towards your broken arm and the bruises that marred your visible skin. “Look at yourself! You’re hurt, you’re battered, and you let it happen. How could you let it get this far?”.

You sobbed, feeling a mix of guilt and helplessness. “I didn’t know what to do, Sam. I thought I could handle it, but I couldn’t leave him. I love him”.

Sam’s eyes softened slightly, but his resolve remained firm. “Loving him doesn’t mean letting him hurt you. We need to save him, but we also need to save you”.

Dean, still reeling from the holy water, managed to lift his head and glare at Sam. “You’ll regret this”, he hissed, his voice filled with venom.

Ignoring Dean’s threats, Castiel stepped forward, his expression calm but resolute. “This is the only way, Y/N. We need to exorcise the demon within him. You need to trust us”.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

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Part 3

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Taglist: @spnfamily-j2 @kr804573 @kylersgirlfriend34 @spncupcake @woooonau @winchesterwild78 @anacarolinadasf @suckitands33 @thesilmarillionblog @supernaturallyedsheeran

[the-monkeies-girl]

someone said they didn't like my writing because it's too descriptive and i said they can get fucked i like my writing and that should be all that matters

It was a quiet evening in the Colony. Nothing more than the chattering and howls from a few Apes as the released exaltations but other than that, hands were signing between lingerances in wicker bowls for food. The usual spread of trout freshly caught that morning from the stream, berries picked from the group of Female Apes you wanted to associate with more closely, but found it difficult at times when you were the only human amongst them. The sun cusped on the horizon that was blistering your sight with the tree line that amplified the rays of light in the right angles, illuminating aspects of your face that to the Chimps in front of you were nothing more than distraughtly ugly to the point of minor distrust.

Not that you could blame them, looks were a two way street and since arriving at the Colony, it was hard to stake out the reservations you had in your mind that they were all evolved and were more suitably placed bi-pedal, expressing more Humanly than yourself at times. The last eight years alone did wonders in conditioning you to think otherwise.

Scooting your eyes to your right, you let a sliver of satisfaction coarse through the forefront of your mind but it was a sensation that did not last and was ultimately eclipsed by a wash of self-deprecation. Sure, you’d only recently found your place here amongst them all, choosing to eat with Lake, River Blue Eyes and Ash during the bustle of the evening meal, never making it early enough to join during the meal that was shared before the Sun made its presence against the horizon at dawn. Mainly Lake as you had been instructed by Caesar that she would be your essential guide to learn the ways of how they lived.

The way that they ate was one of those things that did not come naturally to you. Sharpened canines tumultuously carding themselves out of their gummy enclosures and tearing away at the fish meat and stripping it away from the tiny bones, intricate to watch as if it were ceremonious and it left you feeling less than adequate that you had to tear the meat with your fingers instead. Tentative chews were followed with a shiver of primal fear around the edges of your brain that you needed to run. Forget your meal, forget the safety here that had been so generously offered by the Ape King and take off.

There was nothing stopping them from doing the same to you as the roasted fish, there was nothing stopping them from taking you by the neck and trudging a mouth against the more delicate flesh against your pulsing jugular and taking what they rightfully felt inclined to, blood shading down your neck, tracing around your collarbones as the vein was torn away from your body---

Lake… You tried to pull your mind back into focus. Lake had shown you things that revolved around the daily in-and-outs of Colony life, including and not excelling in… Their choice of language. Your gaze was fluttering between the three sets of hands in front of you, their fingers long, stocky and even in the bustling firelight provided by the communal fire, it was hard to deduce what was being said as you clutched your wickered bowl of fish bones, wiped clean by your hunger, against your stomach which felt bustled with anxiety.

You smiled when they chortled in amusement, you nodded in agreement when they did but conversationally, it was difficult to keep up or contribute and that in and of itself left you feeling more than isolated against the slaten rock that provided the safety shield for the Colony itself. There was always the concept of speaking, you knew that. It was immature to think otherwise when you had been spoken to before but it felt sparsely used amongst the younger Apes who never had any reason to verbalize.

It was easier to sign.

It was an isolating existence you found yourself in regardless, feeling at times like the Colony’s perimeter was nothing more than a gilded cage of protection gifted to you by their leader. By… Caesar. Drawing a deep breath in, you sat your finished bowl to the side and allowed your eyes once again scan the setting sun off in the distance, forgetting for a moment the circumstances of what brought you to the moment you were so blessed to be living in.

The hues of orange that had bustled there at the beginning of your evening meal were tainted now, drawing down into harder pinks and purples as the Sun began its wave goodbye before circling down the skyline. At least you were alive; most of the Humans you had seen in the last eight years were either hostile enough to drive you away or were trying to form radical parties against the Apes.

Either way, you felt like staying with them would get you killed and it was just happenstance that you stumbled, quite literally, onto your knees in front of the Hunting Party that alloted the presence of a crazed and hateful Bonobo who looked at you with one milky stare and one that captivated nothing but despise, two young Chimpanzees which you now knew were Ash and Blue Eyes. And two stockier Chimps - Rocket, fur thinned and skin exposed to the chill of the Pacific air that drifted in and… Their King.

You’d heard stories, sure. Most of the Humans in the area had heard about it like it was nothing more than an everyday occurrence to recall and recollect, you had all seen it on TV during the seemingly Chess game of the Rise and then lived through the aftermath as the Flu wiped out every pleasure that Humanity catered to. It was word of mouth, it felt like it was hard against the shell of your ear, whispered to you in the dead silence by Caesar himself, alone in your hut. The only semblance of verbalization you felt struck by even though it was just your imagination.

As you paced your stare around the Apes, you watched them. Bonobos… Orangutans, Gorillas and Chimpanzees all painted into each other like a fine piece of art, cliqued into families who enjoyed meals together, there was no way to deny your train of thought the simpler pleasures of thinking about him.

Caesar was overpowering in presence alone, a lick of shock radiating and splintering against your spine at the lack of warmth the fire provided you as he came rounding in front of you. Even his gait, strong and powerful, caused your eyes to look elsewhere, focusing again on the distance. The shuffling of the trees with a minor breeze, the crisp sound of water running against the landscape.

‘Cae..sar.’ You butchered a sign out, simple enough as it was but even his name felt incorrect to your fingers as you dropped your hand from your jaw back into your lap to play your fingers against each other.

There was something signed in return, your fingertips urging themselves to follow suit as if you were going to non-verbally answer whatever was said in silence. The way that Caesar held his hands so tightly to his core, the muscles below his fur seemed to rip and the tips of his coat that tapered onto the back of his hands into the darkened skin that seeped against his knuckles was alluring enough to fixate on.

Blinking out of that, you tilted your head and glanced up at him only briefly before you choked a response out, “I-I can’t understand you when you sign that fast.”

Caesar lacked momentum as your words processed in his mind. Brashedly, he asked in a baritone that scratched at the incessant part of your mind that yearned for communication, “You do… Not speak to them.”

“Well…” Swallowing hard, you nodded in agreement there and tried to shove the notion out of your head that you were being watched by him often enough for that detail to come to light. “They talk really fast, and over each other I can’t keep up sometimes---” It was hard to ignore that you felt like an inconvenience to them, especially the way that Caesar huffed at your incantation.

“Has… Lake not been teaching you?”

“She’s a great teacher!” You were quick to compliment, never one to disappoint as you calmed your fluttering heart, forcing your mind into action as you had risen slightly from your chosen seat. Cold rock seared through your tactical pants and into the back of your thighs as you looked down at your own folded hands.. “I just… Haven’t been doing this since birth, y’know…? I can only learn so fast. I feel like talking sometimes bothers them so I stay quiet.”

“Takes time… to learn.”

“I barely even know how to sign your name.”

That was meant as a joke but Caesar remained stagnant and quiet in front of you. If it was funny, your mind running away from itself at the lack of camaraderie you had with anyone, he wasn’t one to show it as he looked off into the distance, mimicking the way that you had been in a bid to avoid eye contact in the first place.

He was not avoiding, his breathing was calmed and relaxed compared to your own which felt smoldering against your ribs as if you were being held under water. In the light that was fading from the Sun, his fur appeared a darkened shade of black though in lighter aspects, it appeared brown and there was a strange admittance in your own self that you had been watching him enough to know such a minute detail. Chalking it up simply to the fact that you didn't speak during meals and barely found any friends due to that, you resulted in admiring them instead.

For all you knew, there was a softened exhale from your mouth at the lack of understanding in yourself as to why you found Caesar so appealing in the first place, the fur detail you knew could have been true for all of them and not just… Caesar…

Attention was hard on your movement as you raised your right hand, forming into a ‘C’ shape near the tip of your jaw, your mouth contorting into an awkward half smile of depreciation as green and golden irises flickered along your expression.. Your fingernails tickled at the skin there and left it feeling aflame as you clarified for him.

“Caesar.” The action was tightened, your fingers unsure of themselves as you finally scraped up enough courage to look up at the large Ape in front of you. Your fingers placed harder against your jawline to the point where it felt like you were able to feel the uncut edges of your bones below the flesh. “Caesar.”

It was a flurried moment- your mouth falling open as the Ape King who superseded any speculations about him from the stories you had heard, raised his arm in a mirrored fashion to yours. The position of Caesar’s bent arm felt strikingly intimidating, his bicep flexing the tearing muscles below that could surely aid in ripping your throat out if he posed you as a threat. Instead though as you pushed aside the primal fear--- You were studious in how his hand curved into a loosened ‘C’ as if it were second nature to him. Not near his protruding jaw like yours had been.

Closer… Closer to… The flames of the torches that surrounded and kept the Colony alight shifted his eye color into capsules of orange, your throat tightening at the way he stared down at you. His positioned fingers, entrancing in their own right as they danced between darkened fur along his thick wrists, lighter colored around his knuckles and darkened along the palms, it appeared like splattered water color, they were against the side of his face, temple being kissed lightly by the backs of his fingers.

Radical fear seemed to leave the split second you made eye contact, breathlessly, you let your mouth open at the lack of imposition or fully wrought scare tactics that you thought his stare would be full of. Instead... They were... Making you uncomfortable with how Human they were. If you were not aware that you were in front of an Ape... A Chimpanzee who was standing strongly on his two feet, stanced hardened against the slick rock of the cliff that dragged adjacently to the kiss of the Suns light, you'd have sworn that he was Human. That he was... Just like you... Full of… Curiosity... Understanding. As if he were aware that everyone starts somewhere and you had only been in the Colony for a month now.

It felt like he stayed in position for hours, peering down at you from beneath the hardened brow line and it was miraculous that you were even able to make out the detailing of his expanding and disappearing irises as they were casted away by the darkness of his pupils.

“Caesar.” Finally! He spoke, the hackles lining his collarbones bristling as you shifted your body to mime him once more, your heart racing itself to the back of your esophagus as the older Chimp maintained the eye contact that he sought for. Something--- Anything for a connection to the Human that he allowed refuge in the Colony.

“Caesar.” The tone you used was breathless, it felt like everything had been rocked right out of you from the intensity of connection just made. Floating your hand near your eye, you tugged a piece of your hair back and smiled slightly, cursing to the Heavens that the fire in front of you was enough of an excuse for the sure reddening of your cheeks at the one-on-one lesson. “Thank you, I was too close to my jaw before.”

“Will get… Maurice to help you learn. Better teacher than… Lake or… Myself.”

There was no argument to be made as Caesar locked stares with you once more; your heart churned from the top of your throat and back down, passed its home in your rib cage and into your stomach at the intimacy it felt cased in.

“T-Thank you!” You managed to utter along with the accompanied sign as the Ape King paced away from you, one more casted glance thrown over his shoulder as you made the sign for his name once more, this time, to yourself.

And without a word to anyone, Caesar narrowed his enviously green and golden speckled eyes on your hand motions, not willing to admit how tantalizingly tempting it felt in the moment to shatter the delicate bones with his own touch. Not out of vicious intent, but out of… Curiosity.

Something that lingered even when he wasn’t around you and something that pestered the inner workings of his mind as if he hadn’t spent the first eight years of his life with Humans to the point where he went through quite a cultural shock when the time came to leave it all behind because there was a deeply ingrained part of himself that wanted to believe he was not Ape, that he was Human… In you, the way that he studied as he climbed to the perch high above the seats of the rest of the Colony, Caesar… Saw himself. And he liked… the way you signed his name.

[astrolynnworld]

under the table 2

pairing: bf! matt sturniolo x reader

summary: after a finished date with a horny matthew. he takes you back to your spot with a new goal

warnings: smut! switch matt, language, daddy kink, lots of oral, lots of pet names, praise, breeding.

a/n: this isn’t the story i ran the poll for, i just thought i would finish this series before i get to that story

word count: 1,201

after dinner, matt pays the bill and guides me out the restaurant.

“get in the car.” matt speaks while holding the door open for me

i quickly obey. matt then closes the car door and walks back to the drivers side.

“you drive me so crazy. you don’t even understand” he says while getting comfortable in the drivers seat

he turns on the car and starts the drive to my house since his brothers were probably home.

the car ride is filled with a comfortable silence while the weeknd plays in the background

that is until we are stopped at a railroad, waiting for the train to pass.

“fuck can this train go by any faster” the boy says anxiously as he craves to get back to my house

“you know we don’t HAVE to wait til we get home right?” i say while gently rubbing on his chest

he looks at me with his gentle glare trying to hint at a “if you want too, we could” vibe

i take this and start palming him through his pants. he adjusts his body in an angle for me to get better access

the railway gates start to rise as the train has finished passing. but this doesn’t stop me from touching the horny boy

“y/n i need to focus now, just wait til we get back to your place” matt speaks in a whisper

“would you really want that.. or would you rather me do this“ i say as i pull out his cock and start jerking it with my bare hands

“y/n..” he tries to speak

i lower my mouth onto the head of his cock and start circling the tip with my tongue

“fuck y/n- you’re gonna distract me” he says as he tries to keep his focus on the road

this doesn’t stop me. i continue to bob my head up his down on his cock at a pace that i knew would tease him the most.

“y- y/n” he begs

i now notice that he’s pulling into my street. i pull of and tuck him back into his pants.

he doesn’t say a word to me. he just turns into my driveway as if he’s in a rush.

he climbs out the car and comes around to my side of the car, to which he grabs me out and puts me on his shoulders.

“matt!! what are you doing!” i ask the hasty boy

he doesn’t say nothing, just grabs the house keys out my back pocket and guys me inside the house.

he lifts me all the way upstairs to my bedroom and tosses me on the bed

“strip.” says a firm matthew

i take off my shirt and pants.

“everything.” matthew says

leading me to further take off my bra and underwear

“good girl.”

“now get on your knees in front of me” he continues

i do as im told.

“take off my pants.” matt states

i slide matthew out of his tight jeans that compress the bulge sitting behind his pants.

he slides down his boxers, allowing his hard cock to spring up from the sudden freedom

“do i have permission to use your throat baby?” he asks

i simply nod my hand looking up at him with puppy dog eyes.

“i need words princess” he responds to my acknowledgement

“yes daddy” i reply

and with that. he grabs my head and forces his cock inside my tight throat

“fuck your mouth is so warm” he praises

he uses my head like a fleshlight and continues to pound into my mouth.

i close my eyes tight as i try to fight back tears from the choking and gagging that comes of his dick forcing itself in my mouth.

“you’re doing so good for me princess. fuck” he expresses while resuming to fuck my throat

“i can’t. i don’t think im gonna last.”

he further pounds into my throat with a few more thrusts until i feel his cum slide down my throat.

“are you okay baby?” he checks in as he pulls out and bends down to my face

i nod my head as i catch my breath.

“i’m gonna make it up to you princess. get on the bed.” he voices

i climb on the bed and lay on my back.

matt climbs on top of me and kisses my ears and neck all the way down to my princess part.

“you’re so wet baby. fuck i need to taste you” he says before flatten his tongue on my vagina

he continues to lick and slurp up any juices that were produced from my hole.

“you taste so fucking good sweetheart” he says from in between my legs

“don’t stop baby please” i whine as the cold air replaces his heat

he puts his tongue back on my vagina and continues to lick and slurp. i grab his head and push him further into me.

he continues faster and i’m left with no choice but to arch back into his head, i lose grip of his head as i feel my orgasm approaching.

he stops.

“fuck i need to feel you cum around my cock” matthew says while getting up from his position to slide his dick in me

“matthew. please don’t go soft on me. i can take it” i beg

“you’re gonna regret saying that angel”

he slides is cock in without giving me time to adjust. he just starts pounding into me like an animal.

“ugh matt. fuck- fuck fuck fuck” i scream out not being able to control my volume

“whats my name?” he says in a demanding tone

“daddy” i blurt out in a whimper

“say it again”

“fuc- daddy. you feel so good daddy” i repeat

“and who do you belong too?” he says while picking up the pace

i can’t even think right now. my brain is going fuzzy from the feeling of him in my guts.

“who do you belong too?” he repeats while putting his and on my throat and squeezing gently

“you. daddy.” i say out loud in a choked whimper

“say it again.” he continues

“you daddy. only you, i belong to you” i whine

“fuck you look so hot under me like this”

i feel the knot in my stomach growing as i close my eyes to focus on the sensation

“are you gonna cum for me baby?”

“yes daddy. can i cum for you please?” i ask while arching my back as the knot in my stomach starts to untie

“of course you can baby. cum for daddy. cum for daddy like the good girl you are” he says while continuing to deepen in me at a rapid rate

“fuck daddy oh my goddd.” i say as i let out my orgasm

he starts to slow down but not stop as he lets me ride out my high.

“you’re so fucking sexy y/n” he says

i don’t respond as i continue to let my mind fog up.

“here let me go run you a nice bath sweetheart” he says as he pulls out

i nod my head in acknowledgement as he laughs at the sight of his brain dead twinkie.

———————————————————————

a/n: thank you guys for reading 😝 let me know your thoughts

[thestarssecrets]

Learn The Basics; Astrology Edition

I get a lot of questions about astrology in my daily life, especially on how to start reading personal charts. With so much information thrown at you, navigating astrology can seem daunting at first glance. In this post I’ll be going right back to the basics. It doesn’t matter if you’re just brushing up on your knowledge, or brand new; In this guide I’ll go over the 12 zodiac signs, the house it traditionally rules, its ruling planet, element, and key traits to make sure you’re set and ready. These essentials will lay out the foundation for you to get the ball rolling on reading your own chart!

to start I’ll state key vocabulary and tools that can help aid you for a deeper understanding of the content.

Vocabulary:

House/s: represent areas of life. It shows you where an energy is being expressed. this would be the 12 sectors of a birth chart you see at first glance. example: to better understand how astrology works I’ll be using a theater play production as examples. the houses would be the scene backdrop. where is this taking place?

Zodiac Sign: a type of energy expression. shows you how an energy is expressed through their unique archetype example: this would be the dialogue of a character in a play. How is this character expressing themselves? What type of personality do they have?

Planets: show you what is happening in the chart. They reveal to you the force that’s being activated, like a player or a chess piece. example: the planets in a play would be the actress/actor. the strengths of the actor would be the characteristics of the planet. ex: Venus: Love, Partnerships, Finance, Harmony, Affection

Aspects: Show the conflict between planets. Aspects in astrology is the degrees apart or close a planet is to another in a chart. If a planet makes a certain angle with another it creates a channel where they “speak” to another. there is an action going on between the two planets.

Trine: effortless, flows naturally without any work needing to be done

Sextile: easy, all the skills to work together are there, but there needs to be some action required to make the energy happen

Opposition: opposing, there needs to be balance required. one planet wants one thing while the other wants the opposite

Square: Tension, there needs to be patience and experience required to work through the conflict

example: this would be the characters’ relationships with other characters in a play.

Shapes: There are certain shapes aspect lines can make in the middle of a chart that shows an important theme in an individual's life depending on the planets involved and the shape it’s making. example: this would be a specific theme or reoccurring event happening in a play. i might do a separate post about shapes so watch out for that!

Tools:

Astrology App: Time Passages great for navigating a birth chart for the first time. It explains everything in the birth chart, as well as having a separate section to learn about terms!

Astrology App: The Pattern great for navigating big transits happening in your life. breaks down important parts of your chart into sections and narrates it in an easy to understand way. also gives a unique perspective on compatibility charts.

Website: Astroseek Great for diving deep into astrology. lots of different types of chart types to pull up.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱���︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Aries

Planet ruler: Mars (aggression, motivation, sexuality)

House: 1st – self, identity, first impressions

Element: Fire

Mode: Cardinal

⸻

Taurus

Planet ruler: Venus (values, sensuality, stability)

House: 2nd – self worth, possessions, security, body awareness

Element: Earth

Mode: Fixed

⸻

Gemini

Planet ruler: Mercury (communication, curiosity, thought processes)

House: 3rd – language, learning, siblings, local environment, early schooling

Element: Air

Mode: Mutable

⸻

Cancer

Planet ruler: Moon (emotions, intuition, inner world)

House: 4th – home, roots, family, emotional foundation

Element: Water

Mode: Cardinal

⸻

Leo

Planet ruler: Sun (identity, confidence, creative expression,ego)

House: 5th – joy, play, romance, creative energy

Element: Fire

Mode: Fixed

⸻

Virgo

Planet ruler: Mercury (analysis, organization, precision)

House: 6th – habits, service, health, daily life

Element: Earth

Mode: Mutable

⸻

Libra

Planet ruler: Venus (aesthetics, relationships, harmony)

House: 7th – partnerships, balance, reflection through others

Element: Air

Mode: Cardinal

⸻

Scorpio

Planet rulers: Pluto (transformation, power, depth), Traditional: Mars (willpower, intensity, survival)

House: 8th – intimacy, shared resources, death & rebirth

Element: Water

Mode: Fixed

⸻

Sagittarius

Planet ruler: Jupiter (expansion, belief, exploration)

House: 9th – philosophy, travel, higher learning, truth-seeking,morals,inner compass

Element: Fire

Mode: Mutable

⸻

Capricorn

Planet ruler: Saturn (discipline, structure, responsibility)

House: 10th – career, reputation, long-term goals, authority

Element: Earth

Mode: Cardinal

⸻

Aquarius

Planet rulers: Uranus (innovation, disruption, freedom), Traditional: Saturn (systems, boundaries, long-term vision,blockage)

House: 11th – community, social progress, future thinking

Element: Air

Mode: Fixed

⸻

Pisces

Planet rulers: Neptune (dreams, intuition, spirituality), Traditional: Jupiter (hope, faith, wisdom)

House: 12th – subconscious, surrender, healing, solitude

Element: Water

Mode: Mutable

these are just the basics to get you through the understanding of how a birth chart works. I highly recommend doing more research into signs, houses, planets, etc once the basics are learned! thank you for reading and happy learning! :)

references:

gloomy bear https://pin.it/4hx77u6DO

letter and sword https://pin.it/24RpsUmsC

©thestarssecrets do not steal.

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Happy 28th! Here is my May 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

We Were Such Fools by kiddle / @bluejeanlouis (98k)

Rule #1: The Rewind Machine cannot be used to change the past, only to experience it. History will reset itself to the original timeline every 24 hours.

On his fiftieth birthday, two things are consuming Harry’s mind: what he’s going to make the kids for dinner tonight, and the fact that his marriage is crumbling at his feet.

So, when his best friend gifts him the trip of a lifetime, Harry chooses to venture off to the summer that set his life on its course—all the way back in 1987, California.

It only took him one summer to fall in love with his husband the first time around. How hard could starting all over really be?

Once Bitten and Twice Shy Series by pinkcords / @pinkcords (60k)

once bitten and twice shy (19k) This time as his stomach rolls, there’s no doubt about it. He’s going to vomit. And if he does, it’ll be on Louis’ shoes, a nice little parting gift to go with the embarrassment he’s caused the both of them. “I’m gonna throw up,” he says just as Louis turns to look at him, blue eyes swimming with shock and confusion, and asks, “Is that true?” Or, in a rush of bravery only senior year can bring, Harry confesses his feelings in a letter to his neighbor and best friend, Louis, only for the entire school to hear it and laugh him out of their small town in Wisconsin. Ten years later, Harry's a successful lawyer at Columbia Records, coming home for Christmas for the first time since he departed for college. He plans to work his way through the trip, eat his mom's cooking, and avoid everyone from his past for as long as possible. The only problem is best laid plans hardly ever go as intended. These Stars Will Guide Us Home (41k) And then he’s gonre. Harry watches him take off his shoes, sort his belongings into bins, and keeps watching until he vanishes entirely, around the corner to his gate. Louis doesn’t look back and Harry can’t blame him, certain his expression, body language, entire being would implore him to stay. It would just make it more difficult on both of them. Louis’ always been intuitive like that, strong enough to make the hard decisions that protect both of them. Or Harry lives in New York and Louis lives in Wisconsin.

Cabin Fever by germericangirl / @germericangirl (46k)

“What the fuck is he doing here?“ He asked still looking at him, before he turned back to look at Niall for an answer.

Niall’s mouth fell open and he looked at him with wide eyes "He um changed his mind?“

Harry stared at Niall for a few seconds in silence, before grabbing a bag and walking towards a bedroom without looking at anyone else, slamming the door shut behind himself.

Liam flinched in front of Louis.

“Well I’m happy to see you too.“ Louis mumbled, some of the tension leaving his body. This wasn’t exactly how he thought their first meeting would go. It was quiet for a moment before Louis finally spoke up “Did you seriously not tell him I was coming?“

Or:

One cabin, one bed, two ex-boyfriends. What could possibly go wrong?

You, In Every Color by blueskiesrry / @blueskiesrry (38k)

But then he thinks of the soft curves and sharp angles he had imagined when he first drew up the sketches for the collection, the specific green of fabric he had picked with the thought of how they’d saturate green eyes, the glossy silks and soft velvets he had once pictured sitting delicately against milky skin.

“We’re drunk,” Louis decides on a sigh. “We shouldn’t make any drastic decisions now.”

or: fashion designer louis and his model bf harry have vowed to never work together again, but with the show for louis’ first solo line on the horizon, they decide to give it another shot

We'll Be Alright by ShatteredGlassHouse / @larryislove (36k)

"Lou, I know this-"

"Not plan? Of course, this wasn't planned. Harry, this can't be happening. We can't have a kid. We are not even supposed to be sleeping together."

Harry flinched at Louis' words. He was right, but Louis didn't need to be blunt about it.

"I'm not ready to have kids. I said that when we started this… Relationship," Louis stuttered the last word, trying to find the proper wording.

"Do you think I am? I'm not even twenty-four. You are almost twenty-nine! You're at the age where most people start a family."

"Doesn't mean I want to have one!" Louis snapped.

"Well, it's happening," Harry said, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Be serious, Harry. We can't have a baby. If people find out, you'll be fired."

Harry subconsciously wrapped his arms around his middle. He suddenly felt small. He didn't expect Louis to be excited. This wasn't the best news for their situation, but he thought he'd be happy.

"I know, Louis."

Or Louis is the Captian of Liverpool FC and Harry is one of the team's physiotherapists. They have a secret relationship going but things become complicated when Harry finds out he's pregnant.

Host of a Name by Signofcomfort / @signofcomfort (35k)

Louis leaves the band in the middle of the tour and drops off the face of the earth. Five years later, they might have a chance to meet him. Harry can finally have some answers and tell the truth for the first time.

Cabin on the Bluff Series by juliusschmidt / @juliusschmidt (6k)

Beech Tree in Autumn (1k) Louis walks forward. Harry walks back. And back. And back. Off the two track, through the brush, until his heel bangs against the trunk of a tree. Louis presses further still. Without so much as a, 'hello,' he's kissing Harry, hard and hungry. Mosquito Bites and Cheap Beer (2k) Harry’s careful not to look at Louis as he plays. At least, he starts out that way. But then the sky behind Louis begins to shift, clouds morphing from piles of gold-tinged wool to scoops of pink and orange sherbet. And at some point, Harry forgets-- forgets not to watch. And when he catches himself, it’s fine. Louis’ watching him right back. Sandwiches on the Shady Shore (2k) “You don’t have to do this,” Louis says. It’s hot in the little kitchen, even with the windows open and a breeze blowing in. Harry feels a flush enfold him from the inside out. “I know,” he says. And then, because he’s already showed up embarrassingly early in the day and made Louis a cheese sandwich, he adds, “I wanted to.”

Trust Me to Take You Home by hattalove / @hattalove (4k)

“I made breakfast,” says Harry, and Louis can feel him smile where his face is smushed against Louis’s shoulder blade. “Full English. All for you.” Louis finally opens his eyes, and blinks. “What about the others?” “Asleep,” Harry whispers, “it’s five in the morning.”

or, a clichéd tale of two boys in love and their first valentine's day together.

[vorpalmusings]

This is an excellent summary of the problems with AI Art beyond even the legal issues of copyright- though it indirectly addresses them as well- and especially points out why the comparisons between human learning and the algorithm “learning” only show a deep ignorance of the human process— and why relying on the algorithm will create nothing but stagnation.

From Christopher Doehling:

“I’m often accused of not understanding how gen-AI works. Nahh. I understand. Counter: a lot of tech people don’t understand human creativity or learning. I have backgrounds in all three. But mostly in art and creativity. Check my LinkedIn profile.

Before you come at me with “computers learn/create like peoples do” consider: it may be you who are in a strange land. Not me. Before you go running into the jungle, you might want a guide.

For example, ever wonder why it took us so long to learn how to draw and paint "realistically"(to make images that look like what we see)? It's because by default, our brains learn concepts, not visuals. For most, our eyes are used to recognize, not replicate.

It's like our mind throws away the visual information that is explicit, and exchanges it for understanding. I quickly know a cat from any angle I see it. I know that they are furry quadrupeds that purr when you pet them unless they scratch you. I know a cat when I see one.

My eyes also help me quickly understand the 3d space the cat occupies, so that I know where it is in relationship to my body, so that I can pet it or avoid it. My eyes help me understand "cats". Can I draw one? Not easily, because my brain, by default, doesn't care about that.

Unless... I want to care. I want to make images that represent or communicate my understanding of "Cat". Early art is more abstracted/symbolic because we expressed concepts first before explicit visuals. 4 lines= 4 legs. Shape language tells the story, with an arresting style...

Even if the exact visual (what my eyes saw) is not transmitted. Its not that we didn't want to. We didn't know how, any beginning artist experiences the same problem. Your brain wants to express what it knows conceptually, not what the eye sees.

But over time, our concepts and understanding grew to include things like optics, math, color theory. Tools we could (with great effort) apply to our artistic expressions as well.

Filippo Brunelleschi (re?)discovered linear perspective not just by looking at the world around him or at other art, but by application of those concepts. and then, finally, we could (again?)draw and paint what we saw. We could also make others see what we had only imagined.

So, we draw what we know, about what we see. Even if what we see is other art, even if I do a master copy, It comes from a place of concept. We are seeking to understand technique, another's experience, another's knowledge, not just absorb a visual for later source material.

evidence: If you have not gained at least some of the same conceptual understanding that the master did, you probably will not be able to copy their work, at least not convincingly.

"Generative" Ai (as it is) is not only unlike humans in the way that it learns, it is the polar opposite. It can copy what it sees. it can combine what it sees. But it does so without any understanding at all. About anything. At all.

A computer does not know what "cat" is. It may have some pixels->patterns that are keyworded "cat" but that is all it has. It can denoise from those latent images/parts of images, but it will only do so as instructed by our keyword requests and/or randomly seeded math, etc.

The only concepts delivered into an AI gen image are those given by the original artists or photographers. If you see a cat, its because someone else (or many someones) gave you cats to see. All the Ai did was serve it up, blindly combined.

The uniqueness of each of us, our experiences, and the concepts we learn and teach are what makes art evolve. If Ai had "taken over" for us at, say, the medieval period (in Europe), Art movements would have ended there too. Renniassance, Baroque, Impressionism, Cubism,...

Etc. they never would have happened. because no matter what prompt you gave, all you would get would be remixes of Medieval paintings, or anything previous to that time period. Ai doesn't make anything really new. not the way we do. It only (blindly) combines what's already made.

That's what's at stake here. We are on the brink of handing our creativity over to something that isn't creative. Why would we limit ourselves like that? If you think it makes art easy, it doesn't. It's an illusion. All you have is the art made up to this point. and no more.

If you want to be an artist, be one. No matter what your skill level, it's better than this. You are contributing of yourself to the world. You are contributing. period.

P.S. it’s not that Ai doesn’t have valid uses as a real tool. But when we get the idea that it’s a pet pro artist that “does the dirty work for me”, that’s a dark path. The dirty work is what moves us forward. it’s also the fun part, and we are the only ones who can really do it.”

Original post:

https://twitter.com/dolimac/status/1635286958330224641?s=46&t=MInooHF4e3-CHmlyx2cj8w

[ivanpshenichnyy]

Day 1 of Filming

Hello again! Today we had our first shoot day, and I will be honest, we had some unexpected challenges. But still, there were plenty of valuable lessons and progress made. Below is a recap of the whole day:

I came to school at around 7:40, and met my teammate Ruben (who plays Cliff) outside to help him bring all the equipment into the class. First we moved out most of the tables and chairs, and then we started to assemble and set up the lights, tripod, plug in the sound equipment, and test it all out.

Unfortunately Ruben forgot the detective hats and the gun at home. On top of that, one of our lead actors, Angelo (who plays Russ), had trouble remembering some of his lines, and the first takes weren't working the way we had hoped. In fact, 25 minutes per shot as we planned, wasn't enough. Me and Ruben decided that we may need one more day to finish our shoots, therefore we plan to end on Wednesay 2nd of April, instead of Tuesday, 1st of April.

I was resonsible for making the evidence board, but I wasn't satisfied with how it ended up looking, because as you can see on the pictures, only a small segment of the corkboard was used, which looks empty and kind of unrealistic. Also, I didn't like the red yarn, because looked too thick.

To improve this, today I will print more stuff so I can put it all on the board tomorrow morning, and I will find another string. I will make a separate post regarding the evidence board production.

Despite those challenges, this day was still very useful because we have spent a lot of time rehearsing the lines and going through each scene again and again. By the end of the day both Ruben and Angelo were more relaxed about acting.

We also had a lot of time to expriment with the lighting for each scene, and cinematographic elements such as camera angles, framing (rule of thirds) and camera positions.

Then, Ruben and I have worked closely with Angelo to guide him on the body language, facial expressions and intonations that we wanted from his performance. Also, we came up with some ideas that we didn't think of when writting the script. For example Ruben suggested that when Angelo's character walks into the room, he should put his hat on the top hanger which is a subtle detail to show his superiority in the room.

Also I made and added some behind the scenes pictures which you can see below!

Even though not much made into the camera today, the work we put in today, will definitely pay off tomorrow, so stay tuned for the updates.

[creativeprojectemmamarie]

Painting 2: Process

I stretched and stapled fabric onto the canvas frame, applying several layers of white gesso and sanding the surface smooth using sanding blocks as each layer dried. I felt the bumpy surface would make precise lettering difficult as the brush wouldn’t glide over the canvas smoothly. I felt this extra preparation step was absolutely necessary.

These are ways that I adapted as I faced a problem, meaning each painting became more technically refined. My favourite way to learn is on the job, experimenting and letting my intuition guide me!

I improved the accuracy of my technique by borrowing a tripod from a friend to allow me to manoeuvre the projector. I also set up the projector and canvas at opposite sides of the room, so that they could face each other directly. Angling the canvas as upright as possible helped to get the text straight.

I used a light red pen to sketch out the letters. This was tedious as I had to ensure I wasn't warping the canvas too much with the pressure of my hand, which could lead to the letters being uneven. I also had to be careful not to block the projection with my body, meaning I angled myself according to which letters I was tracing.

I decided to split the text into two sections by using different colours. I filled in the lines carefully with red paint, trying to keep the lines as straight as I could through slow, steady brushstrokes. Next, I mixed a baby pink colour and filled in the top section of the text. I found difficulty in this as the paint was lighter than the pen underneath - a product of my not having a plan when I started the text. I had to paint several layers of pink to get an opaque result, which left the words more textured than the red text, an effect which I wasn't necessarily happy with. In hindsight, I wish I had used a better quality pink paint, like I had with the red.

The text 'I just want to love you in my own language' is taken from track 3WW from Alt-J's 2017 album Relaxer. The title stands for 'three worn words' in reference to 'I love you'. The song explores themes of love and fleeting intimacy in a melancholy tone.

Reflection

I will refer to this work as '3WW' until I decide on a title.

The phrases in '3WW' and 'Queer' capture the difficulties of emotional connection and communication in romantic relationships as well as the frustrating impossibility of fully expressing yourself to another person. This piece is only text, emphasising the rawness of the statement.

I chose this line because it directly mirrors my feelings of not sharing the same internal language as my partners in past relationships, and acknowledgement of a communication barrier despite my desire to love fully.

After completing the third painting (queer version 2) I revised this painting with my new techniques and was able to straighten, neaten and tweak the letters so they looked more uniform.

[thecameronchronicles]

Coming Out On Top

TW: smut. Language. Dom!Reader. 

SUMMARY: You prove to Rafe to can take the reins after one too many taunts. 

WORD COUNT: 1200

REQUESTED

IM COUNTING DOWN THE DAYS

Idea for a story!!

Rafe is always saying how reader “can’t handle being on top” and so they trick him into handcuffs to show him they can handle it and rafe is all “you’re gonna regret this” but he actually enjoys it🫣 

🤍🤍🤍🤍

Coming Out On Top

You were the epitome of innocence. Before Rafe, there was little you knew about sex. The basic scientific properties were enough to sound intelligible and deduce that which was spoken with your friends. But until him, you weren't aware of how he could turn sensations into tremors. But of the ways he made you satisfied and blissed, there was one annoyance he had uttered one too many times. His arrogance was ignored until now as you set out to prove a point. 

"You don't wanna stay at the party any-oh!" You pushed him into his bedroom door as it gave way to his weight. Your foot kicked it closed as you continued to guide him towards the bed. But even if you had a mission, you basked in the way he held you. Soft hands with cruel fingers eating into your naked hips as you dropped the dress to your ankles and straddled him at the edge of his bed. 

"You don't want me to do anything to you?"

"I just want you inside me..." You confessed as he moved to guide you on your back, before your hands came to his chest. 

"I want to be on top." To this, he smirked. Even if it had taken some time with him, you were confident in most angles and positions. Your favorite matching that of his own. But this was one chosen, you were never able to exercise as he simply took control. Just as you found depth and rhythm, you were spun onto your back or stomach. Of course, he made your anger deplete with the several orgasms that came as consolation. But tonight you were going to prove Rafe Cameron wrong. 

"But baby, you can't handle it..." 

"I want to try, Rafe...please...it makes me so wet just thinking about it." You knew exactly how to convince him if anything. Just the mention of what he would have and he was willing to do whatever it took to make it happen. So he agreed. But the second he was distracted, the sound of metal cuffs pinned him to the bed. 

"Baby-" he spoke rather angrily. "Come on, take these off..."

"I need to practice..." You pouted, lowering down his body and unbuckling his pants. 

"Oh Rafe..." He moaned to your hands stroking him in perfect swirls. Precum already leaking from his tip as he rocked in to your grip. 

"Fuck... You're gonna regret this…" Your mouth wrapped around him slowly but you took him deeply, curses spoken between the moans of your name. 

"You still want me to let you go?"

"I want that pretty little ass riding me..." He shot as you bit your bottom lip, spitting on his cock as he groaned before you set yourself in position. 

He fought against the cuffs. 

"Sit on my face first...I need it..." He nearly begged as you framed his cheeks with your thighs as he savored you immediately. His eyes rolling to how you already dripped against his mouth. 

"Good girl..." He growled between breaths before you held onto the headboard as it squeaked to your motions. 

"Just like that baby...oh my God!" You nearly sobbed as you withdrew just before that rush overtook you. 

"Come back here and ride my face until you come..." 

"I want to come on your cock, baby..." You impaled yourself slowly on him as he groaned. Trying the binds again, he forced them against the headboard to chime as you began to move. Slowly until a purposeful pace was made as he scowled to the sight. 

"I want you in my hands...I want to make that ass every shade of fucking red for tying me down..." He broke weak of his dominance to the pleasure in his voice. 

"You feel so good, Rafe..." You rocked and bobbed, reading his expressions and continuing until you began to tire. His expression illuminating, admitting what he refused to. He loves when you took control. At least for now. 

"Maybe..." You reversed your motions as he growled. 

"Fuck...you're killing me..." 

"Ahh! Oh Rafe!"

"Use that cock baby...it's yours...feel good on me..." You dug your nails into his skin as you rode into him, every perfect inch hitting you precisely where you found the deepest of sensations. 

"I miss you pulling me hair when you take me like this..." You teased over your shoulder. 

"Take off these cuffs baby and I'll pull it so fucking tight for you..."

"Not until you come..." He hit his heels into the bed in frustration. 

"I don't want to...You look so good taking me..."

"Like this?" You asked, showcasing how his cock disappeared and emerged from your greedy sex. 

"Slower...I wanna watch..." You obliged. 

"Spread those cheeks baby...let me see it..." You lowered for balance but obeyed as he moaned. 

"Perfect...so fucking perfect..." 

"Yeah? You think I can handle it now, baby?"

"How you handle me so well..."

"Does it make you wanna come?"

"Fuck yeah..." 

You threw your head back as you relished to how deep he was inside of you. But each time he tightened and hardened, you edged him. Once to switch back to a normal straddle and again to suck him back to your throat. 

"Fuck!" He grunted. "Baby! Make me come!"

"Pretty please?"

"Please! Please baby! I'm so fucking close..." He grunted, eyes wild with desire as you returned to him. 

"Inside of me?"

"Every inch..." 

"You want to make a mess of me, Rafe? Every inch of me covered?"

"Mmm...fuuuuck....here it...baby-" He tensed and erupted, that familiar warmth coating you from within as you slowly rise and slammed down on him again. 

"Shit! It's-" you did it again. "It's-" you continued as he moaned and whimpered. Overstimulation at its finest as you adored the way this strong man fell apart beneath you. His cock flexing and reliant solely on your mercy. 

"Make me come again...oh baby...please please please..."

"But I want to..." 

"My face...come back... sit-" He struggled to speak.

"I want to use you...This perfect...hard...thick cock...all mine..."

"Take it...fuck me baby..." You resorted to your wiles. Your body both heaven and hell above him as the sight was serene but the fact he could only watch was torture. Your breath, your breasts, your moans, everything brought him to that second edge. 

"Rafe, I'm gonna come! Oh God!"

"Give it to me baby...please " Your body betrayed any attempt to fight this as you washed over him, channeling his second release. Sticky and dripping, you reached over him. 

"Clean me up, Rafe." He was gluttonous to this, every drop cleansed before he strived for a third. Your body shaking and nearing for that edge he brought effortlessly by only his tongue. 

"Untie me." He demanded, his jaw wet in the evidence of your recent release. 

"My turn." He growled, thing you to the bed after you were on all fours. A long night ahead…

TAGLIST:

@rafesmoon @maybankslover @puzziepoppin @gillybear17 @onclouds999

@penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @jjmaybanksangel @phildunphyisadilf 

@belcalis9503

MASTERLIST

RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST

2ND RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST

3RD RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

riding tasm!peter for the first time

Ride it

pairing: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

summary: see above^

warning: Sex, praising, language [18+]

a/n: okay this a little short but it's my first time writing for Peter, let me know if it's okay or what I can do better! Thankyou for requesting and reading <33

Peter held your hips tightly, guiding you on top of him. Your soaking pussy brushing the tip of his throbbing cock, with shaky hands you held his shoulders tighter than usual.

"What if I do it wrong?” You hesitated, holding yourself up on your knees. Peter’s own movements halted as he peered up at your worried expression, a soft grin on his lips as he leans up to press them to yours. “You won’t sweet girl, I will help” he hushed, his thumb caressing your lower lip.

You nod your head against the palm of his hand and look back down between you both, your skin was sweaty from the multiple orgasms he had already pulled out of you. His hand left your face to grip your hips again, your eyes watching as he reached down between you both to angle his cock up. “Go on” He nudged, his voice was needy but assuring.

You nodded your head and brought your hips down onto him, pushing down slowly onto him until he was buried so deep inside that you could feel him in your stomach. “Shit” You gasped, the feeling of him expanding your walls made you physically full. “Now what?”.

His eyes were closed when you looked up at him, springing open when he felt you staring, he guided your hips to move. Bringing you all the way up until he was almost completely out of you and then bringing you back down harshly.

Your finger nails left half crescents moons in his skin as you began to take control and move your hips at the speed you wanted, even swirling your hips a few times like you had read about online once or twice. Your eyes never left Peters, watching as he tipped his head back to look up at the ceiling and bit down on his bottom lip.

“Kiss me Pete” You begged; at the sound of your voice his eyes were back on you. Lips peppering along your jaw and neck until they met your lips, sloppy and rough as you continued to bounce on him.

Every time you came down on him your clit would rub against his skin causing your walls to flutter around him, his own fingers buried deep into the flesh of your ass cheek. The sounds of your lips meeting and heavy moans filled the apartment, the lights from outside casting a shadow over the two of you.

“Doing so good for me baby, just a little faster” He praised, trailing his lips until they met your collar bone. You wrap your arms around his shoulder bringing your chest to his to give you some sort of stability to bounce faster, you could already feel your orgasm in your lower belly.

You were enjoying riding Peter a lot more then you thought you would, the feeling of his hands exploring your body and the new found angle was heaven. The moans and noises coming from Peter was very different, you felt in control. Something you never usually had when it came to the bedroom.

“Amazing, absolutely amazing, your perfect” Peter gushed, his lips had now found home on your right breast. Teasing and biting at your nubs, hands gripped tightly on your ass and helping you roll your hips onto him. “Yeah?” You breathed, you liked being praised.

The sound of Peter’s voice was everything to you especially when he was calling you sweet names and telling you how amazing you are. “Mhmm....so fucking good baby”.

“I’m close...really close” You moaned, using the slither of strength you had left to bring yourself down onto him harder and faster. Riding until you found that familiar high that left you weak and gasping for air. He nods his head frantically against your chest. “Okay okay...hold on a little longer sweet girl” He whispers, him too focusing on that familiar feeling in his stomach.

Your toes curl underneath you and your stomach muscles clench as you hold onto your orgasm, waiting for Peter to join you. His lips feverishly kiss at the skin of your neck until he pulls your head to connect your lips, his tongue explores your mouth and one hand grips at the back of your neck to pull you in closer.

“Now” he demands, you’re the first to let go. Letting that warm feeling rush through your veins and the white spots take over your vision. Your walls clench and unclench themselves around Peters dick pushing him over the edge, pushing so deep inside of you and coating your walls with his seed.

The both of your juices mixing together as you come down from your high, your legs are weak and you can’t hold yourself up any longer. Dropping your body weight into him, you can feel him nudging further inside of you as though suddenly you had extra room for him.

“You did so good baby, I knew you’d be a pro” He whispered, brushing away the sweaty pieces of hair that were in your face. Kissing your lips tenderly, you grin down at him with pride. “That was good, what else can we try?”.

[evercelle]

How do you come up with ideas for your more finished pieces like the one you showed in that process guide you posted earlier? Do you just doodle poses and come up with the symbolism aspects after or how do you go about thinking about it? Even though I love drawing symbolism heavy pieces for my favourite characters, I can never actually come up with composition ideas for them anymore

sometimes i doodle first and end up accruing more ideas along the way, but i usually have some kind of a key feeling/concept in mind for the more heavy-handed pieces i draw... for example, this drawing came about because i really enjoy how complex ouma's motivations are, and how there's a huge gap between what he says, what he does, what he wants, and what he's capable of giving in the game... and the one i showed in that process pic was linked to a specific line of dialogue in chp 4 contrasted to the events of chp 5, and what i imagine it must have felt like post-game! hoo hoo

all that's to say: if you want to draw something that's symbolic, you have to start with the meaning first... what is it that's interesting to you about your favorite characters and their stories? what kind of feeling do you want to highlight or story do you want to tell? even if it's just a single image, you're storytelling through the pose/body language, angles, expressions, colors, and literal or metaphorical imagery used. i think if you start from "this is the feeling i want to examine," it'll become easier to think through "what components can i work in to generate that feeling?"... i think. hope that helps...!

[hxt1b]

Come Around 

Yuta x Reader 

Requested Prompt 74 "get closer"

Warning: 18+, mature content, minor dni, reader discretion is advised, explicit language. 

Genre: Smut [some public finger fucking, masturbation, teasing, orgasm denial? finger sucking, gagging, chocking, safe sex, some sexting I guess… it just a lot of sex stuff guys] Idol AU, no seriously there is no plot, it's just sex. 

WC: 4.7k

Masterlist 

requests open for 1k event, click here for new prompts ----> taking requests until the 26th 

A/N: i hope you guys like this, it took me a few days to write it tbh and i didnt have time to read it over so im not too sure about how it is, but hopefully it isnt trash. there are probably grammatical errors so i hope you guys can ignore them and still enjoy reading it. please let me know what you think, or by filling out the feedback form i have. 

You glanced at Yuta as he sat across from your on the counter the undecorated cookies spread across in between you. Yuta was so concentrated on his that you could get by with all the staring you wanted. 

You thanked your friend for wanting to decorate sugar cookies randomly for this hangout.

You hadn't been able to keep your eyes off of Yuta from the moment that he strolled in behind Johnny, Taeyong and Doyoung. He was in a pair of black sweats that sat low on his hips and a white t-shirt, his hair was messy and falling into his eyes and damn for a second you really couldn't breathe. 

"What movie are we watching?" Johnny asked him and a few of your friends were sitting at the dining table decorating their own cookies. 

"It's Y/N's turn to pick today," Yuta said looking up at you. You snapped out of your daze the moment his eyes met yours. Turning your head to look at the table full of people you nodded. 

"Yeah let's watch grown-ups!" You exclaimed happily. Your best friend groaned from her seat next to Johnny. 

"Dude no, we've seen that movie a million times." 

You pouted at her, Yuta laughed from across the counter at your expression pulling your attention back to him. 

"How about Venom?" He asked you, you nodded your yes. You'd seen that movie before as well but if Yuta wanted to watch it again it was okay with you. 

You couldn't really pinpoint when your crush on him had begun, you'd been friends for such a long time at this point that it was all muddled together. 

You silently fell back into decorating your cookie, still stealing glances at Yuta the entire time. 

"Oh my god, I'm done with these fucking cookies." Your best friend groaned before getting up, "let's start the movie."  

You frowned slightly at your cookie, the icing was a mess and honestly, your decorating skill were better usually than what you'd done. 

"Are you coming?" Yuta asked his body was angled towards the exit of the kitchen everyone else had already filtered out to the living room. 

You nodded and followed behind him towards the couch, you sat down next to Yuta on the love seat. Your friends were pulling up the movie as you adjusted to make yourself comfortable on the couch. 

"Can I sit here I don't want to sit on the ground," Doyoung said indicating the spot beside you. 

Yuta pulled you inside his side forcing you to scoot over and give Doyoung room, his arm staying around you tucking you into him. You didn't complain and let yourself relax into his side as the movie started. 

"Get closer" Yuta murmured in your ear his hands tugging at your hip to get you half onto his lap, his hand guiding your leg so what it was tangled over his.  

"You know babe, you're not very good at being subtle with your staring." He breathed in your ear, his breath causing a shiver to run down your spine. 

Your face heated at his comment, a part of you wanted to jump out of his lap and go hide in the bathroom, but with the way Yuta was currently drawing circles on your thigh with his finger, you were glued in your spot. 

You glanced at Doyoung, his head was angled comfortably onto the couch and he was engrossed in the movie. 

"Maybe I wasn't trying to be subtle." You replied letting your head tilt back so that your face hovered dangerously close to his. 

Yuta narrowed his eyes at you, he grabbed for the blanket that was settled behind his head and covered you both with it. His hand returned to its stop on your thigh instantly. 

"You want me, babe?" He asked his head dipping close to yours again. Your breath hitched at his question, your thoughts short-circuiting as you took in his darkened expression. 

His hand moved further up your thigh until he was hovering over your clothed core. 

"Yes." You mumbled back, the word barely a whisper. 

"You're gonna have to wait for the movie to end then." You narrowed your eyes at him but he was probably right. Slowly you turned your head away from his. 

Letting your head rest on his shoulder as you watched the movie you realized that this movie was going to be way too long for you. Yuta's hands were still over you. One of his hands was at your hip, his slender fingers drawing circles on your skin that was peaking out due to your shit riding up. His other hand was still close to your heat, your mind drifting to everything dirty you wanted him to do to you. 

You squirmed slightly in your spot, Yuta moved his head closer to yours again, his lips brushing your ear.

"Uncomfortable?" He asked, his hand moving towards your waistband. You shook your head but adjusted the blanket as his fingers slipped past the waistband of your sweats. 

His fingers didn't immediately do what you wanted to them, instead, he tried his fingers through your folds ignoring your clit or even pushing them in, he would only dip in enough to gather your wetness on the tip of his finger before continuing to move in a slow circle around your clit but never touching it. 

You bit your tongue to keep yourself from groaning at the torture that Yuta was subjecting you to. Your head lulled into the crook of his neck. 

"Keep watching the movie." He mumbled to you, you turned your eyes back to the screen holding yourself back from bucking up into his hand to get him to touch your clit. 

You focused on keeping your breathing even as he continued to tease you, but it was hard to keep your hips still. You gave in for a second, getting desperate for him to touch you where you needed him. 

"Are you uncomfortable?" Doyoung asked, his head turning towards yours. You looked at him and shook your head. 

"No no, I'm just a-adjusting." You tried to reply steadily, halfway through your words Yuta decided that your clit was lonely, his fingers began to draw slow figure eights over your neglected nub. You wanted to grind into his hand, you wanted to let out a moan that was bubbling up in your throat. But Yuta's fingers dug into your hip keeping you in place, and Doyoung's eyes on you kept you from making any stupid sound or facial expression. 

"Okay," Doyoung replied and turned back to the movie. 

You let your head fall back over Yuta's shoulder your eyes closing as you let your mouth hang open from the pleasure you were feeling. 

"Close your mouth babe," Yuta said, right before letting his tongue run along the shell of your ear. 

Taeyong suddenly sprung up, his abrupt action caused you to push Yuta's hand away from you. Yuta turned to you with his eyebrow raised and his lips turned up in amusement. 

"Going to the bathroom," Taeyong announced and bounced off. 

"Should we pick up after the movie? Would that be better for you?" 

Reluctantly you agreed with Yuta's questions because even though you wanted him now, fucking him in front of your friends wasn't going to go over well with them. 

So you suffered through your movie, wondering why you guys picked such a long one. 

When the movie ended it was around midnight. You stayed seated as everyone got up, your brain was in overdrive thinking of what would happen next. Would you guys go back to your apartment that would be the most practical right? Seeing as you couldn't go to the dorms. 

Yuta moved first his hands moving off you and slowly pushing the blanket away from him. You had to move for him to get up, so you quickly got up turning to face him as you did so. 

"So you want to come to my apartment?" You asked lowly, Yuta's eyes flashed with lust at your question. 

"Yo Yuta let's go!" Johnny called from the other side of the living room, his car keys jangling as he spoke. You looked back at Yuta as he looked at Johnny.

"We've got a lot of schedules tomorrow," Doyoung added. 

"See you guys soon." Your friend said putting her hosting abilities to use and shoving bags of cookies at them. Yuta shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked towards the boys, an apologetic look flashing across his face as he left you in your spot. 

You got a bag of cookies when you left as well, but you couldn't say that they were what you wanted to be eating today. 

——— 

Back at your apartment, you sighed loudly as you fell back into your bed. Your body heated still from your encounter with Yuta, you could still see him when you closed your eyes, his fingers still stinging at the skin of your waist. 

You groaned loudly. You grabbed your phone from beside you on the bed you'd have to distract yourself maybe YouTube would do the trick. 

Instead, you were taken by the text you had from Yuta, he'd send a picture of himself in sweats, his cock hard against the cloth of his sweats. 

You were the type to make fun of guys when they sexted, typically sitting there and just entertaining the boy, but you couldn't lie to yourself this time. You were already turned on and this was adding to it. 

'You've got me fucked up.' He texted a second later, you quickly exited the photo and replied. 

'Cause I'm just fine right?' You could feel your body heating again. Your blood was rushing as you waited for him to reply. 

'If I was there rn you wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow.' You rubbed your thighs together, your hand drifting down your body towards your waistband. 

You could feel the moisture gathering in your panties, Yuta's words weren't doing anything to curb your desire. 

'Make sure you aren't busy tomorrow night.' Yuta texted quickly followed by a goodnight text that was accompanied by a winking emoji. 

You groaned again as you let your hand sink past the plastic of your sweats and underwear. You dropped the phone on the bad and let your mind drift to Yuta as you got yourself off. 

———

Some texts were exchanged over the course of the day, all of them teasing all of them working you up. Not to say you weren't working him up in return, you'd sent him a photo of you in black lingerie before you went to work in the morning letting him know you'd be wearing it all day. 

He came at exactly eight like he said he would, you were fixing your hair in the mirror, like it would stay like that, when he texted you to let him up. 

Your blood rushed as you waited, pacing your living room for him to come up to your floor. It didn't take him long, but to you, it felt like ages until he was knocking on your door. 

You pulled it open for him, your teeth nipping at the corner of your mouth as you did. 

Yuta froze once his eyes landed on you, his eyes drifted down your body taking in the loose t-shirt you were wearing and your bare legs. You knew he already knew what was underneath it, and seeing his reaction in person turned you on more than you could have imagined. 

He walked towards you slowly, shutting the door behind him his eyes never leaving you. You stepped backwards into the living, no words spoken yet. You were content on looking at him forever, it wasn't new for you. 

"Fuck," Yuta let out under his breath before he grabbed you, his hands tugging at you until he had you tightly pinned against him. 

His hand gripped the hair at the back of your head as he looked down at you, his breath fanning your face. 

"What the fuck are you doing to me?" He whispered before he pressed his lips to yours. 

He kissed you like he'd been dying to kiss you all day, and you couldn't complain you had been dying to kiss him all day. 

You let his lips control yours, your mouth moving against his the way he wanted his tongue moving into your mouth pushing against your tongue and tasting you. He pulled a moan from you as he pushed you towards the kitchen island. 

"Jump." He commanded as he let his hands roughly gran at your hips. You obliged and he lifted you onto the counter the back of your thighs meeting the cold counter caused shivers to run your body. 

Yuta leaned into you forcing you to move your weight onto the palms of your hands as he continued to kiss you. His hands roamed your body, pushing your shirt up so that his thumbs could trace along the underwire of your bra, he let out a low moan that you muffled as you kissed him back. 

He pulled back so that he could look at you, and give you both a chance to breathe, you watched as Yuta took in your black lace bra and matching underwear. His tongue pushed against the side of his cheek as he narrowed his eyes at your body, he looked like he was ready to eat you. 

The hand holding your shirt moved to your mouth, nudging the cloth into your mouth he pressed a soft kiss to your nose. 

"Your so wet for me." He muttered as his hand traced the outside of your panties feeling the wet spot, you groaned into the t-shirt stuffed in your mouth. 

"Show me what you did to yourself last night." He muttered, you looked up at his your eyes widening for a second before you shifted your weight onto one hand, slowly bringing your left hand to his. 

Yuta kept his eyes glued to your face, slowly you moved your hand under his pushing your underwear aside to run your finger through your wetness. Your eyes fluttered shut as you moved your finger along your slit, teasing yourself like you typically did. You let your head fall back as you moved a finger into your heat, gathering more of your slick onto it before bringing it out to swirl it around your clit. 

You breathed softly into your shirt, your ears sensitive to all the sounds Yuta was making his shallow breath, his slight gulps as he watched you. You could imagine the look he had on his face right now.

But you didn't have to imagine though, slowly opening your eye you look up at him, his eyes were turned down as he watched the movement of your hand. 

Your breathing became shallower as more and more moans leaked out of you, you could feel your sex clenching as the knot in your stomach tightened, you added your middle finger as you picked up the pace of your movements, rubbing harsh circles on your clit. 

Your hips stuttered into your own hand, Yuta moaned at the act causing heat to flood your chest. 

"Are you close baby?" You asked, his voice low. You nodded your head, your hand moving faster as you chased your orgasm. 

Yuta grabbed your hand pulling it away from you. You whined at the lost contact your hips bucking up trying to regain the touch that you lost. 

Yuta brought your fingers to his mouth, sucking on them as he hummed. His tongue wrapped around each digit to clean them off. 

"I like how you taste." 

You moaned loudly at his words, he brought his hand back down to your core, dragging his middle finger through your folds he gathered you onto his finger. 

"Want to taste?" 

He didn't let you reply, simply pulled your shirt out of your mouth before pushing his finger into your mouth. You sucked on his finger, tasting yourself, sucking on it Yuta pushed his index finger into your mouth as well. You worked them like you would his cock, moving your mouth around his fingers. 

Yuta moved his free hand to your clit, continue to smear your wetness around as he rubbed rough circles against your nub. Your hips moved against his hand as you moaned around his fingers. 

Your eyes watered as Yuta shoved his fingers deeper into your mouth as you tried to swallow the spit that was starting to gather in your mouth. Some of it slipped out past your lips and down the side of your face. 

"How dirty." Yuta tsked, however, he still didn't remove his fingers from your mouth. He instead pumped them into your mouth further, you gagged as he did so. Your eyes watering more than before. Yuta moved his fingers back onto your tongue giving you a chance to breathe. 

His fingers on your clit slowed as he leaned down towards you, his lips pressed into your cheek. 

"You look so hot right now." He muttered into your heated skin. He pushed his fingers back into your mouth, you swallowed around them again trying your best not to gag, but failing. Once again he pulled his fingers back but not entirely out your mouth. 

With his other hand, he moved his fingers down your slit, slowly pushing two fingers into your heat. You let out a loud moan at the stretch, your walls clenching around his fingers. The knot in your stomach was dangerously tight. 

Yuta trailed open-mouthed kisses along your jaw as he slowly began to pump his fingers into your core. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth leaning onto the counter with that hand. 

Your lips found his as your body heated, the blood in your veins rushing as your head became fuzzy; your orgasm coming up quickly. 

"I'm close." You muttered against Yuta's mouth, he moaned into your mouth before nipping at your bottom lip and then pulling away from you entirely. His fingers slipped out of you and his lips left yours. 

He took a step back from you, his shoulders moving from the way he was deeply breathing. He wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb. Your shirt fell down your body, covering you up on its own. 

"Show me your room." 

You were flustered from your lack of orgasm again, your legs felt unsteady as you got off the counter and nodded for him, wiping at your own face. 

You motioned for him to follow you as you lead the way to your room, he walked closely behind you. You could feel the head of his body the brush of his chest against your shoulder. 

"So this is your room huh?" He asked pushing past you, he looked around. You'd had your friends over before but only your closer girlfriends had been in your room. 

Yuta trailed over to the wall that you had covered in photos of you with your friends and family, he slowly moved his eyes across the collage commenting on a few photos he was in. 

Your fingers tensed at your side as you watched him act like you were in the middle of something like his fingers weren't just in your throat. 

"Yuta, what are you doing?" You asked walking over to him slowly. 

"Looking at your photos." He replied, throwing you an amused look. You groaned quietly. 

"Well can you stop?" You asked your arm looping around his waist as you moved in front of him. 

"You want me to be doing something else?" He asked. 

"You know what I want." You answered. 

"Do I?" He asked, "You may have to specify." He brought his hand up to your face, pushing some of your hair behind your ear before his thumb caressed the soft skin under your ear. 

You bit your lip, "I want you." 

"Want me to what?" 

"To fuck me." 

You kept your eyes locked with his, his lip tilting up in a smirk as you finished saying the words to him. 

He tilted your face up to him, very gently it was the opposite of how he treated you in the kitchen, his lips meeting your bruised ones moving against them softly and slowly. To you felt like the calm before the storm. 

He pushed you back, your back pressing into the photos that you'd taped on the wall. His hands moved to your ass as he deepened the kiss.  

"Bed." You muttered against his mouth pushing at his chest. He listened, his hands gripping your ass roughly as he spun you around his lips digging into your as he did the kiss turning rough. 

You gasped when he pulled away from you, his hands quickly taking your shirt off before he pushed you into the bed.  

You laid on your back, breathing heavily looking up at him as he got rid of his own shirt. Your mouth watered at his abs, forcing you to shoot up as he climbed onto the bed. You met him halfway, your hands itching to touch his body, to drag your tongue over the hard plains of his body. 

But it seemed that Yuta came with a plan, because the moment you reached out to touch him he grabbed your hands, pushing them away from him. He leaned into you until you were flat on your back again, his body hovering over you with your hands pinned above your head. 

"Maybe next time you can take your time with me, but not today." 

You groaned at his words, your thighs rubbing together as you imagined having Yuta under you, as you sucked bruises into his skin. 

Yuta laughed lightly at your display, his teeth caught the skin of your collar bone biting lightly before sucking on the reddening skin. He let go of your hands as he kissed and sucked on your skin down to the soft flesh of your breasts. 

"I really like this, but I have to take it off of you now." He muttered, his tone almost sad as he spoke about your bra. 

"It opens in the front." You muttered to him, he nodded as he licked his lips and grabbed for the clasp. He didn't let you process that your bra was off before his lips were sucking on your nipple. He was rough with it, his hand pulling at the other one. 

He bit at your nipple pulling moan after moan out of you as he continued his assault, your back arched up, you pushed yourself at him. Yuta moaned as you did so, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. He moved to the other side, repeating his actions until you were begging for him for more. 

Yuta kissed down the centre of your stomach, his fingers looping into the elastic of your underwear, he slowly pulled it off as he pressed wet kisses right up until your navel. 

Sitting upon his heels to get your panties completely off, you stared up at him already out of breath, your eyes half-open as you looked up at him. 

 He chuckled the black lace somewhere in the room once he had it off, his body coming back down over yours. His lips latching onto yours again, he kissed you roughly. His lips bruising against yours, his hand trailed down your stomach to your clit, his touch leaving fire in its trail. 

Your hips bucked up into his hand as he faintly brushed over your swollen nub. 

"You want me bad?" He asked into your mouth. 

"We've already established that." You replied, your eyes closing as his fingers pressed down into you. 

You moaned as he created a steady rhythm with his hand. You could hear the sound of his fingers pumping in and out of you as his thumb moved against your clit you body burned, your nerve endings stinging as you got closer to your orgasm again. Yuta's name fluttered on your tongue as you let him know that you were close. 

He pulled his hand away from you and sat up once again. 

"What the fuck." You groaned, he smirked down at you as he stood up to shuffle off his pants and boxers. 

"Be patient baby." He spoke lowly, his voice heavy with lust. 

"I have been." 

You took in his cock as it stood up hard and angry, seeing it for the first time your mouth watered at the sight. He was a good size, thick and veiny. 

A part of you wanted him in your mouth, but a bigger part of you needed him somewhere else. You met him halfway as he leaned onto the bed, your arms looped around his shoulders your fingers tangling into his hair so that you could tug at the strands as he licked into your mouth. 

"Wait, wait." He grumbled. 

"What?" 

"We need a condom." You shook your head at him. 

"I'm on the pill and I'm clean." 

"I'm also clean." 

"Then you're good." 

With that you pushed your mouth up against his again, your tongue fighting against his. You widened your legs as you pushed your hips up towards him again. 

"Please." You whined. 

Yuta didn't tease you this time, he palmed his cock before grabbing it and guiding it towards your centre. 

He slowly pushed into you, your head knocking back into your pillow as he did. He sighed as he bottomed out. 

"Ready?" He asked, his hand cradling the side of your head forcing you to turn your head back to him. You simply nodded for him.  

His teeth grazed the skin of your jaw as he began to thrust into you, his pace picking up as he went. Your brain quickly turned into mush as you breathed heavily into his ear. You could hear him moaning into the crook of your neck. 

You nipped brushed against his chest causing your body to heat faster, your overdue orgasm was approaching fast. Your fingers dug into the skin at his back, your toes curling as he hit the perfect spot inside you.  

Yuta's hand circled your throat applying pressure, and it was just what you needed as you came. Your head lulled to the side as your body arched up into him. Yuta kept on moving abasing you through your orgasm, but you were too gone to really notice. Your fingers gripped the sheets pulling at them roughly as your sex clenched around his cock. 

Yuta pulled out of you as you came down from your high. 

"Did you finish?" You asked, your eyes glazed over as you looked at him. 

"Not yet." He replied and flopped onto his back beside you. 

"Get on top, reverse cowgirl style." He demanded. 

You breathed heavily taking a second to oblige his command. Slowly you got and moved so that you were straddling him. 

You grabbed Yuta's cock, your hand shaking as you did, and you lined it up with yourself. Slowly sinking down on him. His hands were at your hips guiding you down.  

You were sensitive from your recent orgasm, the stretch from his cock causing you to whine. 

Yuta pulled you back down onto him, your back flush with his chest as he began to rock up into you. His hand returned to your throat choking you as he fucked up roughly. You whimpered your head against his. His other hand held both your wrists tightly against your stomach. Pressing you into him tighter. 

You moaned loudly as his cock dragged against your walls. Incoherent words spilled out of you as he cursed in your ear. 

"I'm close." He growled. You moaned again, your walls clenching around him because of his words. 

"Fuck." He groaned as he came you could feel his cum in you as his hips stuttered against you. He continued to move into you until his orgasm subsided. His hands let go of your throat and your wrists choosing to wrap around you instead. His lips pressed soft kisses into the side of your head. 

His cock still deep inside you. 

You turned your head towards him, catching his lips against your in a slow kiss. There was no way you could let go of Yuta after that. 

"Fuck Y/N," Yuta groaned, "there is no way we don't do that again." 

because i love this gif of yuta i had to include it.....

-neocain ♡